Final reflections on the Summer Institute, from volunteer & slam poet rockstar Emily Weitzman!
“Kibera School for Girls.” The name does not do it justice. They might as well change it to “Kibera School for Energetic, Enthusiastic, Intelligent, Compassionate, Unique, Determined, Beautiful, Kind, Adorable, Spunky, Courageous, Clever, Passionate, Confident, and, of course, Sassy Girls.” Not sure if that would fit on the sign though. And even then, there are really not enough or any words in the English or Swahili language to describe this group of 63 young ladies. At the Summer Institute, I was given the rare and wonderful opportunity to teach and mentor them for a month. My feelings toward the girls quickly transitioned from adore to respect and finally, for lack of a better word, love.
Each Summer Institute volunteer was in charge of a group, the groups named after a different native animal. I am obsessed with elephants; totally by chance, I was assigned to teach the “elephant” family group. And a family we were from the very beginning. The moment the elephants were announced at the “Camp Kick-Off”, my six girls ran to me, arms open and ready for a huge hug. We sat in a small huddle, tuned out the noise behind us, and jumped for joy at the prospect of being a family of elephants. We made up a name, “The Energetic Ele-phants,” and a group cheer, which we recited with some sassy head-bobbing. When it was then announced that the girls would be receiving new uniforms for “summer camp,” a wave of raucous cheers exploded throughout the room. One of my elephants, Juliet, was so excited that she impulsively flung her arms into the air. Unfortunately, her understandable stroke of spontaneity happened to cross paths with my right eye. But of all reasons to get punched in the eye, for the happiness of an adorable 6 year old girl, is one I’ll take every time. Later, other volunteers told me they thought my eyes were tearing because of how touching it was to see the response of the girls; they might as well have been.
Lensa, Mary (Ivon), Marion, Grace, Juliet, and Lillian, all in Pre-K or Kindergarten, were my “Energetic Ele-phants.” Although we decided the name on the first day before we all knew each other, the “energetic” part of our group name could not have been more fitting: my girls never ran out of energy. Lensa loved to joke around, and the sight of a funny face would provoke spasms of uncontrollable laughter. Mary was always by my side holding my hand, or running up to me during recess to sing “Mary Had A Little Lamb.” Marion, an adorable and genuinely sweet girl, loved to sing songs and dance with me. Grace, who I called Grace Face, has a deep voice that did not seem like it could have been emitted from her small frame. I could always count on Grace to make a hilarious face that would have all the elephants cracking up (especially Lensa). Juliet had a thirst for life and knowledge… so much so that she sometimes focused her attention more on the surrounding world than what she was supposed to be doing. While Lillian was often shy, she also could be silly, and would often sneak me an enormous smile. Elephants supposedly possess very human qualities: an incredible capacity for compassion and impeccable memories. My elephants are no different. The seven of us, an inseparable pack of elephants, cared for each other every day at KSG. Our experience together is one we will all never forget.
All summer volunteers got to teach topics that we were interested in. Some of the favorite lessons I taught were dance and public speaking. I was so excited to get to teach the girls Modern Dance, something that has played such a large role in my own feeling of empowerment as a woman. Along with Jordana and Kim, I taught the girls the concept of improv, and how to move your body in interesting ways in response to directions like melt, roll, jump, or take up a lot of space. We even taught them about contact improv, involving continuous contact with another body, requiring a lot of trust and willingness to try something new. In one contact improve exercise, the older girls went to a “museum,” where they moved a partner’s body to become a sculpture. The younger girls got to go “body surfing” on fellow volunteers Jordana, Kim, and me (We were body surfing . . . literally). In another dance lesson, we taught about the idea of using your body to create “music” to dance to. The girls got to show off their silly sides, making funny noises to dance to in crazy ways. This lesson also included teaching them step dancing, a type of dace I love to do that involves clapping and stomping to create different beats. Martha, in particular, caught on quickly and loved doing the steps. To step dance you need to work as a team; it’s very obvious if someone claps during a pause. The girls understood this concept, and worked as a group to create the sounds and movements. All the girls speak English really well, but movement is yet another language that we could all communicate with.
I also taught Public Speaking and How to Make a Good Argument. Most people break out in sweat and hives if asked to speak publicly, however, the girls at Kibera School for Girls created speeches and then performed them with confidence and eloquence. I told the girls that public speaking is important, because no matter what they do in life, they will probably have to talk in front of a group of people, and being able to do so with confidence will help them a lot. I was astonished at the sophistication of what the girls said, and the way they were able to articulate, engage the audience, and, most importantly, speak with utter poise. Some girls spoke about what they want to be when they grow up, while others chose to write about something they love. Mercy, who refused to talk when she first arrived at KSG, presented a beautiful speech with self-assurance on why she wants to be a teacher. Movin did not even once peek at her notes as she talked about wanting to be a banker. Her stage presence made me think maybe she should change that profession to an activist or politician, anything that involves public speaking (Movin for President!). Lucy described her love for running, and Sheldan explained why her favorite food is rice. In the Making a Good Argument lesson, the girls wrote speeches about why they love KSG, and why a prospective student would want to go there. Some answers included: “Because we have so many nice teachers” “Because girls are able to learn,” ”Because we do not beat others here,” and “Because we now can grow up to be what we want.”
And speaking of what the girls want to be when they grow up, “I know I can” seemed to become the theme of the summer. It all started when our fearless Summer Institute leaders, Max and Nathan, had the idea to make the popular Nas song “I Can” into a music video, starring the girls, of course. The chorus goes: “I know I can/ Be what I wanna be/ If I work hard at it/ I’ll be where I wanna be.” Since I was known as the Slam Poet among the institute volunteers, I was assigned the task of rewriting the lines to make the rap about the Kibera School for Girls. But the idea of “I Can” became so much more than just an awesome music video that could potentially be created. The girls would practice the song, one standing in the center of the circle leading the other girls in the choral-response tradition. As Jane, Lydia, Sharon, Exferance, or any of the other confident and sassy girls conducted the group with the words “If I work hard at it, I’ll be where I wanna be,” I have never believed the lyrics to a song more in my life.
Since the girls are often asked what they want to be when they grow up, they each have an answer (or two or three) they will excitingly share. Teacher is a common response, a reflection of the wonderful job teachers at KSG are doing. Many want to become a doctor to help others. A pilot is a very sought-after profession, which explains our field trip to watch the planes fly at the airport. Banker, lawyer, and policeman are among the other common answers. The truth is, the jobs themselves don’t actually matter, just the fact that they are thinking about the future. It’s rare to have hope in a place like Kibera, but vital to their community. Instead of having to leave the slum, the girls are working hard and gaining hope right in Kibera. The most beautiful part of the Summer Institute was experiencing the pure love for learning and life that all the girls exhibit. KSG is always full of energy, love, and, literally, noise: the sound of the girls eagerly singing and shaking their hips to the music. Each girl is incredibly lucky to be there, but each girl also brings something special and magical to the school. At KSG, the girls are taught that they are worth it. Not only are they lucky to have an education, but that they deserve to have one. In a poem the girls perform, they turn their hand as if opening a door while they exclaim, “education is the key!” Sixty-four girls gesturing the motion of turning a key to unlock a door while reciting, “education is the key:” as I watched them perform this, I truly understood the mission of the Kibera School for Girls. Every girl opening her own door to a future unknown, but surely waiting just ahead. If one thing is for sure, the girls won’t merely enter through their door, they will come running in with enthusiasm, determination, and enormous grins. As they run, they will be shouting, or maybe singing: “I know I can!” Maybe that should be the name of the school: “Kibera School for Girls Who Can.” After getting the opportunity to teach, mentor, laugh with, and love these girls during the Summer Institute, I am confident that they will.