What Role Models Do You Have?

We arrived at the school 5 plus hours after leaving our hotel in Port-au-Prince this morning. Traffic in the city had been at a literal standstill and the stop-and- go twists and turns of the remaining 4 hours into the central plateau had started to take its toll. We were hot, some were nauseous and all of our muscles were cramped.

Anxious to show us the WASH program in action (Water, Sanitation and Hygiene) local World Vision staff were quick to usher us over to the upgraded hand washing, clean drinking stations and the new latrines. This was just one example of what the $16,000 already donated by Freddyink was accomplishing (our goal is $25,000- you can donate here: https://freddylink.com  . I had visited this school in 2013 and there was no running water, let alone clean water and latrines. In 2016 they had running water but no clean drinking water or latrines. They have been working hard. Fresh blue paint stained the videographer’s tshirt as he leaned into the building to take a shot- obviously they were excited to have us here.

As we celebrated all that had been accomplished, listening to their stories of fewer sick children, consequently more attending schools, proper health and hygiene education, clean drinking water, my heart was drawn to the classrooms of children just a few feet from where we stood. I could hear their excited chatter as they watched their Canadian visitors learn about their improvement plans and their hope for the future.

Soon, they filed out of their classrooms in their carefully pressed blue uniforms- except the Kindergarteners, they were in bright yellow: bright yellow skirts and shirts, bows and ties on tiny legs and arms and tightly braided hair. Big dark eyes watching our every move; some skeptical, some timid, others joyful and full of spunk.  They were to sing for us. I wanted to play with them, to connect with them, I had bubble wands and skip ropes, Dave had soccer balls stored in our yet unpacked suitcases, but we waited to be told what was next.

We were invited into a classroom of 6^th graders, the highest grade in this school. The bare cement structure is painted yellow, large slats in the windows allow for airflow.  Thin wooden desks and stools are shared by every two students. A daily schedule is mounted on the wall, French class, math, creole. A black chalkboard is at the front of the class evidencing their hard work. Eyes and ears are attentive to their visitors.

Pastor Verner introduced himself and made some opening comments before introducing me and asking me to share something.  I wanted to hear from them, their hopes and dreams but I couldn’t help but be drawn to the 1/3^rd of the classroom sitting together, all young women. “Where are the girls?” I wondered. I felt a tug on my heart and followed it.

“I want to specifically address the young women here today.  God has placed a dream in each of your hearts, work hard for it, fight for it. Don’t be timid, or hide behind one another, stand tall and proud. We need to hear your voices. There is so much potential sitting, right here.”

Verner added “God gives the dream and with God all things are possible!” He told them that in Canada I work with children and he explained a bit of what I do. I watched as some of their eyes lit up as they began to understand that I was for them, that I am drawn to the potential in a child, like I am drawn to take breath.

The floor opened for questions and Dave asked the young women “What female role models do you have? Who do you look up to?”  They were quiet, looking away, unsure.

Lori leaned over to me and whispered, “I don’t know that they understand the question, that they have thought about having female role models.”

And then a bright, young woman with a huge smile and dimples that would melt any heart, looked directly at me and pointed her sleek, dark arm at me.

“Heidi, she’s pointing at you.” Someone whispered, but I knew. Our eyes had locked, our hearts connected and I was fighting back tears.

I woke up this morning thanking God for the opportunity to come to Haiti again. How I love the people, the country, the children, but I also told Him I wasn’t sure why I was here. I wanted to help paint the story from beginning to end for Pastor Verner, but I knew there was more to it than that. I told Him that my heart was open for whatever it was;  and even now I could honestly go home and say this trip was worth something. If you could have only been in the room at that moment.

Perhaps, that girl, or the others beside her, one day when they are struggling, because their battle will not be easy, will stop and remember when a crazy white woman came to her school and told her to stand tall, to chase her dreams, that the world was waiting to hear her voice.

As I left the classroom I looked her in the eye and said, “I’ll be watching for you.” She nodded her head.