Before I knew how much I don’t know, I had opinions.
Such opinions led me a while ago to commit to the monthly educational sponsorship of a child in a remote area in the country in which I write this update. She lives at home and goes to school in her home community. Her school fees and a nutritious meal most days are provided through a local organisation with ties to a network I trust. Ask me privately for more details if you’re interested. I haven’t pursued meeting that child or seeing that programme while in her country. She lives in a very remote area and it isn’t practical.
I am pleased that ‘my’ sponsor child gets to stay at home while she gets an education. (Not that she is ‘mine’ in any sense except an organisational one.) Many other children in her position end up moving far from all that is familiar to them and living in a children’s home.
I used to think that removing a child from his or her community was bad – very bad. Now I have an inkling of how ignorant I am. There are many factors to consider. Some families want their children to have opportunities they can’t provide. Others aren’t in a position to care for their children. And yes, perhaps some people have been tricked or manipulated. It’s complex.
I have met a number of adults these past weeks who spent at least part of their childhood in children’s homes or boarding schools far from their families. Some of these homes are run by Buddhists. Some are non-religious. And some are run by Christians.
The country
Scattered around the city in which I write this blog post are lots of children’s homes, as well as boarding schools. A driver I met lives as simply as possible so that his two children can attend a Montessori boarding school. His story is not unique. Not everyone can do that but far-flung families with connections with well-meaning people in major centres sometimes send at least one of their kids to a children’s home.
What is actually best for the child? Is it better to keep a child in his or her community and only give him or her access to a very basic education, if that? Or is it better to remove a child from their community and give him or her a good education? And what should be done when a community can’t provide materially or emotionally for a child?
Before I continue, let me add that this country has done amazingly well in improving the state of education in recent years. (Christians have played a role in that too.) Literacy has shot from 5% in 1952 to 66% in 2015, according to UNESCO (see https://unesdoc.unesco.org/ark:/48223/pf0000247317 p15). That’s no small achievement!
Jena’s story
(Jena’s story is a mixture of stories from people I have met or heard about. Her story is not exactly fictional but neither is it biographical.)
“I still remember the night our mother passed away. I was nine years old. My life was turned upside down after that … and it wasn’t just because I was now motherless.
“’Home’ back then was high up in the mountains. The air was fresh and our food organic. Yet there were were nights our stomachs grumbled with hunger and we shivered with cold. Our parents were tenant farmers who worked on terraced fields. Regardless of whether the crop was good or bad, they had to pay the landlord every year. To make the payments, Dad picked up itinerant labouring work here and there whenever he could.
“When Mother was sick, kind neighbours helped care for us. But no sooner had her fragile frame been cremated on an open fire, as is our custom, my sister and I were put on a bus with a distant relative. Down, down, down the mountains we went, one hairpin bend after another. We spent most of the journey hunched over plastic bags, retching.
“We were delivered to a children’s home in a noisy colourless city. That was the last we saw of our relative. He had accomplished what was needed. We were just girls, too young to care for ourselves let alone anyone else. Foreign women with white skin and yellow-brown hair ushered us into the home, washed us, clothed us, fed us and put us into clean beds.
“Days led to months and months led to years. We learned the national language, as well as English. We went to school from Sunday to Friday every week. When we finished high school, we were able to find traineeships which provided room and board. The Christian ladies who ran the home never forced us to deny the religion of our home area but neither did we practise it anymore. What we did experience was love.
“Years later, when I worked in a Christian hospital, I decided to get baptised. Nobody forced me to do that. It just made sense.”
A trekking guide’s advice
(The following paragraph is accurate – it is not a conglomeration of stories.)
“If you want to give money to a children’s home, come to my village. I won’t pass on the money – you can do that yourselves. I just want low caste kids like I once was to get a good education.”
We were sipping masala tea in a tea house, halfway down a 1000 metre descent, trudging one weary step after another. The tea had a kick to it. It was the spiciest tea that I have ever drunk … not that I have drunk much spicy tea in my time.
Our guide pulled out his book of traveller’s photos and hand written testimonials, a book carefully wrapped in a padded envelope. At my suggestion, because of the storm we walked through, it was now also encased in a ziplock bag. Opening it with pride, he showed us pictures of fresh-faced foreigners with strings of orange marigolds around their necks sitting at a ceremonial table with leaders from the children’s home in his village.
“Don’t give money to children’s homes unless you know the people concerned,” he cautioned us. “There are greedy, corrupt people out there who will show you pictures that tug at your heart strings, but they’re frauds. Maybe they do have a children’s home. Maybe not. Either way, they live very comfortably themselves by convincing donors to give money,”
“Foreigners sometimes run children’s homes and they usually do a good job. They are less likely to be in it for their own gain,” he added. Was that to make us feel better about being foreign? Was it true? I sure hope it is true of faith-based homes.
“Come to my village,” he urged us again. We did not, but I was more glad than ever that I sponsor that little girl’s education in a mountain school perhaps not dissimilar to the one we had passed on this mountainside just an hour earlier.
Considerations
Dreadful things have happened world over where there are power imbalances. This is particularly rampant in institutionalised care. The media in my home country frequently covers injustices of years past that happened in faith-based institutions. And yet, just because power imbalances can be abused, does that mean that ALL children’s homes are bad? Are there situations in which the benefits outweigh the risks?
Jesus repeatedly taught that powerless children are very important in God’s eyes. But how do we care well for these little ones he values so dearly?
He offers us the wisdom and insights to see through the complexities. We have his indwelling Spirit who gives us wisdom. We have local partners with whom to work. And yet it’s still very complicated.
A conclusion of sorts
I am glad that individuals like Jena are provided for in the name of Jesus. I am delighted to play a small role in enabling one particular child high up in the mountains to receive an education.
Yet I remain concerned as I hear about people who grow up in children’s homes and end up confused and unsure of who they are or what they believe. And of course, stories abound of young people who are unwittingly placed into slavery or positions of abuse or worse, though I have not met anybody during this trip who has suffered like that.
I have more questions about the ethics of aid and development than ever before as a result of this trip. One thing I have observed, though, is this: When run well, a children’s home can change a child’s life trajectory. When run badly, of course, it can be awful. Checks and balances, accountability and very great wisdom is needed.
As Australian Christians, let’s support people seeking to show Jesus’ love and respect to ‘the least of these’. Let’s continue to provide finances so that those who have wrestled with these questions can get on with the job at hand. And let’s offer prayer for them too. May God give hem wisdom, day by day, and situation by situation. (And may the school girl whose education I support, high up there in the mountains, do well in life.)
