First-time school

DR ERROL N BENJAMIN

MY HEART warmed on seeing "small man" playing catch with his favourite tennis ball as he pranced up the hill in Sunkist Drive behind his mom holding his sister’s hand on his first day to school.

He seemed not so lucky as others who had their own “ride” to school, taking me back to my own first day when I had to walk barefooted almost two miles away to St John's EC from Golconda, but his demeanour was refreshing, probably seeing school as a place to play and have fun – the learning would come after – unlike others like him who on this day would probably be in tears having to leave the safety of home for the first time and venture into the unknown.

My little inspiration with the tennis ball did not know how lucky he was having the opportunity to go to school and “take learnin'," as my father used to say, never wanting us to toil in the cane fields as he did, when children in countries like Sudan, Ukraine and Myanmar, inter alia, are lucky that they may still be alive, always in fear of the next bomb or bullet, or where the next meal is coming from, or where they will be able to sleep, with the idea of going to school an elusive dream.

And the mum, too, seemed to respond to this moment, clutching the sister’s hand as if she held their future in her own hands. In a land where fear seems the norm, she seemed to have acquired a new sense of purpose as she walked up the hill, her face aglow with the pride of having the personal responsibility of watching the fruit of her womb take the first giant step in their growth path.

Perhaps she never read Kahlil Gibran who speaks of parents being the “bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth” (The Prophet pg 20), but she was the living embodiment of that idea, unlike the mothers from Sudan, Niger, Ethiopia, Myanmar and the refugee camps of Iraq et al who do not have the opportunity to prepare their children for school, packing their bags and waiting for them at the end of the day, full of pride, just hoping that they will survive the violence for another day.

Perhaps our mum that morning may have had to deal with a disgruntled father, did not have the fancy lunches to give her children, worrying about the bills and the rent that was coming, but this was her moment and nothing would take away from it. With all the troubles swirling around, it was her epiphany and Trinidad should be proud of making such possible for the mothers of this country.

My wish is that the authorities, like this mother, would find their moment of inspiration for the good of the children of this country, putting the politics behind them, and ensuring that nothing comes in the way of this noble purpose. Like ensuring that schools are adequately staffed, that the syllabuses are geared to their moral and spiritual development, that they take a hard look at the exorbitant prices of books and the booksellers with their “new" editions.

Also, that services are provided for the needy and that schooling is mandatory for all, even for those not so inclined, and even for the Venezuelan migrant children, and in other little ways that affect the children and are often taken for granted, like timely school repairs and, unlike the fiasco of the first day of this term, water for all.

The reason for the authorities so to do is simple. You feel good about yourself to do something worthwhile for its own sake, away from the politics.

They must all try it some time.