Going to school – for the first time!

Last October, we told you about a school that our friend, Deshpande, started in a very poor community here in Delhi. Years ago, some nomadic Muslim people found an empty lot in northwest Delhi. They stretched some tarp over pieces of bamboo for tents, and have lived there ever since. There is no running water, no electricity. There are no bathrooms. There is no grass. There are no trees. This week, daytime temperatures will reach 100F (40C), and summer has only begun.

 

The good news is that Deshpande cares for these people, and they now have a school. Today, I visited that community because Deshpande wanted me to talk with the parents, to try to convince them that sending their children to the school is important. They like having the school there, and theoretically see value in education for their children, but when it comes down to it, attendance is irregular.

 

Education is important. You’d think that would be an easy topic for a teacher whose mother and grandmother were both teachers! Yet, there I stood, unsure of what to say. Learning to read is important for these people? Really? How? I mean it…how? It’s one thing to believe that education is important when you live in a land that revels in the pull-yourself-up-by-your-own-bootstrap stories, but what do you do when you live in a land that doesn’t allow for that? Here, if you’re born a street sweeper, you die a street sweeper, and your kids will, too, even if they can read. The only hope is a good death which will either free you to your next reincarnation (if you’re Hindu), or take you to paradise (if you’re Muslim, like these folks).

 

So, I asked them. Why was education important to them? One lady answered the obvious, “If you go to school, you can learn to read.” I responded with, “What’s so good about that? Why is reading good?” That stopped her. She didn’t know what to say.

Our meeting took place in an actual cement building located across the street from the tent community. All the parents were sitting on the floor, except for the three male community leaders who sat on plastic chairs. I stood in the corner, yelling over the fan that someone had turned on by splicing ancient looking wires together. After my initial question, Deshpande asked a question of his own. Who in the room could read? One man raised his hand. He looked to be mid-20s. He’d dropped out of school after fifth grade. No one else raised a hand, not even the community leaders. This one young man, living in urban Delhi, about 30 minutes from one of the most upscale shopping malls in Asia, with his 5th grade education is one of the most educated people in a community of about 150 families!

 

I looked over at the old man sitting in the plastic chair to my right. Long white beard. Muslim skull cap on his head. How many children did he have? Nine. Did any of them go to school? No. Did he know how to read? No. Another man was the father of six. Some of his kids did go to school, but he can’t read. Another lady had four kids, but none attended school. No, she can’t read, either. They live literally their whole lives in the dirt. What was I supposed to say to people who are truly thankful for daily wages, and who are so locked into an oppressive system that they truly have no hope for improvement of their own or their children’s lives?

 

Where to start? With a story. I told them about King Solomon, the wisest king who ever lived. I had no idea if they’d ever heard of him, so I started with his father, David, and told how he’d been a good king, and that Solomon wanted to rule well, but was afraid he wouldn’t. One day, he burnt 1000 sacrifices on the altar, and then that night, he had a dream. Muslims know all about sacrifices. The folks in this community kill a goat every year on Id. So, when they heard that Solomon made 1000 sacrifices in one day, they were impressed. He must have really wanted God’s help! Muslims also believe in the power of dreams, and so it didn’t surprise them at all that God spoke to Solomon that way. But, they were amazed by God’s offer. Solomon could really ask God for anything he wanted? I asked the folks what they would have asked for, if they’d been in Solomon’s place. Most said that they’d ask for peace for the people, but when they heard that he’d asked for wisdom, they all nodded their heads. That was an even better request than peace! If the king has wisdom, then the kingdom will be fine!

 

I ended the story by quoting one of Solomon’s proverbs: A wise man is mightier than a strong man, and a man of knowledge is more powerful than a strong man (Proverbs 24:5). Here, from the wisest king who ever lived, is the answer to the question. Why should we send our kids to school? So they can learn to become wise.

 

Do you know, they clapped at the end? They loved it. Heads nodded. They agreed! Yes, our children need wisdom. We must encourage them to go to school!

 

It wasn’t until later that I found out that these people had heard of Solomon before. They didn’t know the details, but they knew he’d been a great king. Leave it to God. He’s amazing, isn’t He? He promised to make Solomon’s kingdom a great one, and kept His promise to such an extent that even today, thousands of years after Solomon died, people who live thousands of miles from Jerusalem, aren’t Jewish, and can’t even read, know his name! Amazing!

 

God kept another promise today, too. Years ago, Jesus told His followers that He would always be with them wherever they went. I felt that today. I had absolutely no idea what I was going to say to these dear people. Honestly, I haven’t thought about Solomon for a long time. But, God knew how to reach these folks. He knew what they needed to hear, and it wasn’t some American, suburban perspective on improving one’s life by good education and hard work. No, what these folks were ready for was the real story of a real man who asked something from the Real God.

 

Please join us in praying for this dear community of people, that, like Solomon, they will become wise, and therefore, mighty!