Our first sessions with the children of Maria Teresa School

So Mauricio asked for the worst behaved children in the school for our group project.  We want to take the children to places of cultural interest where they might not normally be able to visit due to their socio-ecomic status.  Can you imagine not being able to go to the museum, art gallery or theatre because you can not afford it?  That really is unfair.  We don't choose what class we are born into and in my humble opinion, everyone should have access to these simple things.  These children come from very poor homes and often immigrant families where they all live in just one room.  They are often exposed to violence and abuse.

With this in mind, Mauricio and I have decided to make this our project, to expose the children to the cultural greats and give them different environments to learn in.  So our first classes are about preparing the children to behave inside the classroom so that they can behave in society.  The first week we had almost an entire session of hitting and name calling (not Mauricio and I), but fifteen children!  I looked at Mauricio with 'what have we let ourselves in for' eyes.  He whispered to me that the children have to learn to quieten themselves, that they have to learn to listen.  Ah, the words of the psycholgist!  For fifty minutes it was  pure chaos.  But all of a sudden, the shouting and screaming stopped when they realised what was required of them.  They began to listen to one another and also to what we had to say.  Result.

The second class was a lot more productive, and we only got a few minutes of hitting each other and I think I only heard one child call another tit face.  I mean I don't know how I kept a straight face on that one, but this time they were a lot better at listening and we are already planning our first visit to an interactive museum.  It is so rewarding to be able to spend time with these children.  I don't think they are bad children at all.  Some of them have just had a bad start in life, and they all deserve a chance.   So we will show them understanding and love in hope that they will grow and gain from this experience we are offering them.

Untitled

My mum's partner Frank is hospitalised with a rare form of cancer.  It has been such a rollercoaster ride for her the past few months.  Can you imagine the love of your life in a hospital bed, bad days where he gets confused and doesn't eat, and better days where he has the strength to sit up, smile and chat.  Heartbreaking.  And I am not the one living this experience.  My mum is.  She is breaking inside.  Trying to be strong around her family.  But sometimes it gets the better of her and she cries uncontrollably.  And that is O.K.  I am glad she feels comfortable to be able to show her emotions to me.  But we are separated by thousands of miles, mountains and the ocean.  It is hard.  I want to hold her.  I feel guilty for not being able to.  We have skype.  This makes it slightly easier.  And I will always be there for her.  If she wants someone to be with her while she cries, falls asleep, talks.  Empathy.  That is what I try to have for her.  I try to put myself in her shoes.  I have cried it all out.  I thought I could cry no more.  Then I cry again.  I imagine it to be a million times worse for her living this daily experience.  This is the story for many people.  Mum you are not alone in this.  I am here for you.  Many people are here for you.  You are loved.  Frank is loved.  That is what is important.  That is what matters.  I am not with you physically, but spiritually always.  I will be holding your hand every step of the way.

My other wonderful nan

Since I posted on my mother's mum, I think it only fair to share a story of my father's mum, who is also an amazingly beautiful woman, 89 years young.  I think their longevity bodes well for the female members of the family.  We sometimes forget what women of their generation went through with the war, and without any benefits to help them out economically, how difficult it was to raise a family.

My nan had a tough childhood.  By thirteen she had lost both her parents, her father, who broke his back, and her mother who died of cancer.  Her very old grandmother decided to take in the four orphans, in spite of the fact that many people told her not to.  Her grandmother ensured the siblings were not separated, because in those days, no one was interested in taking girls in.  Many people offered to adopt and help out, but only where the two boys were concerned.  They all lived (the five of them) in a one bedroom cottage in Top End, Pytchley.

My nan has many wonderful tales which she relates to us when we go and visit.  Like the time that she placed a wind up toy in her sister's hair, that wound round and round until it became tangled to the root and had to be cut free with scissors.  Or the fact that she could only play just outside the window where her grandmother could see her.  A few years later the war would change their lives forever, it disrupted their innocence and forced them to grow up quicker than they should have.

Three of the siblings helped with the war effort.  My great uncle fought in the army, my nan and her sister joined the Women's Royal Air Force on the barrage baloons.  My nan worked in London and Southampton, raising the baloons in an attempt to protect our country from enemy planes.  In a twist of fate, one day some tanks drove past where my nan was working.  It was my great uncle's regiment, and she saw him for the first time in a while, waving at her before he went to war.  That summer my great uncle's tank was blown up in Caen, France.  He died so young, aged 22.  Such a bittersweet memory, to have been able to see her brother's face for the last time.

Shortly thereafter my nan's grandmother passed away.  It was the end of an era, and still a young lady herself at 20 years old, she had lost her parents, her brother and her dear grandmother.  I think this tough life drew her even closer to her remaining brother and sister.  Unfortunately I am sure it is a similar story to many of their generation.  I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to live life as her during her early years, but  it certainly has made her the beautiful lady she is today.  She is a kind and very strong woman.  Both my nan's have taught me to be proud of my roots and have shaped the person  I am. With strong morals, loving, family oriented, and selfless, they are everything I aspire to be.