The Millennium Development Goals,The Magnificent Seven and Our Children

At the Millennium Summit in September 2000 the largest gathering of world leaders in history adopted the UN Millennium Declaration, committing their nations to a new global partnership to reduce extreme poverty and setting out a series of time-bound targets, with a deadline of 2015, that have become known as the Millennium Development Goals.

1. Eradicate Extreme Hunger and Poverty
2. Achieve Universal Primary Education
3. Promote Gender Equality and Empower Women
4. Reduce Child Mortality
5. Improve Maternal Health
6. Combat HIV/AIDS, Malaria and other diseases
7. Ensure Environmental Sustainability
8. Develop a Global Partnership for Development

The Millennium Project is trying to show how a few simple reforms, seven in all, can substantially improve lives and provide livelihoods. These are:

1. fertiliser and seed to improve food yield;
2. anti-malarial bed nets;
3. improved water sources;
4. diversification from staple into cash crops;
5. a school feeding programme;
6. deworming for all;
7. and the introduction of new technologies, such as energy-saving stoves and mobile phones.

"The Magnificent Seven" Apr 27th 2006 ; The Economist print edition

Beyond Rhetoric... What We Have Achieved For Our Children.
What do these goals have to do with children? All of them would save children’s lives and improve their well-being.
http://www.savethechildren.org/publications/MDG_2-Education.pdf

Children and the Poverty Campaign
http://www.care.org/campaigns/childrenpoverty/index.asp?source=170740250000&WT.srch=1

Facts About Children and Poverty
Health Care and Nutrition

1. Measles, malaria and diarrhea are three of the biggest killers of children — yet all are preventable or treatable
2. More than 30 million children in the world are not immunized against treatable or preventable diseases
3. 95 percent of all the people who get polio are under the age of 5
4. HIV/AIDS has created more than 14 million orphans — 92 percent of them live in Africa
5. Six million children under five die every year as a result of hunger

Education

1. 134 million children between the ages of 7 to 18 have never been to school.
2. Girls are more likely to go without schooling than boys — in the Middle East and North Africa, girls are three times more likely than boys to be denied education
3. For every year of education, wages increase by a worldwide average of 10 percent
4. Educated mothers tend to send their children to school, helping to break the cycle of poverty

Exploitation

1. In the last decade, more than 2 million children have died as a direct result of armed conflict
2. More than 300,000 child soldiers are exploited in armed conflicts in over 30 countries around the world
3. 2 million children are believed to be exploited through the commercial sex trade
4. Approximately 246 million children work
5. 171 million children work in hazardous conditions

STAND UP Against Poverty,
STAND UP For the Millenium Development Goals

Keep The Promise

2015

A Report on the UN
http://news.bbc.co.uk/hi/english/static/in_depth/world/2000/un_summit/default.stm

Activism 101: Using Your Mouse To Make A Difference

Use Your Mouse

Click

and make a BIG difference!

Some easy ways to be an agent of change...

Click and Link to the Following Sites:

Send an eCard from Save the Children and you can connect with a friend while spreading the word about the work we do to create positive, lasting changes in the lives of children in need.

Help Feed the Hungry

Help Provide Basic Healthcare for Children

Help Fund Books for Kids

Help Fund Free Mammograms

Send an E-Card

Help Save the Rainforest

Help Fund Food for Animals

A Resource For Children
Help Save The Environment

What Kind Of A World Do You Want?

http://www.whatkindofworlddoyouwant.com/videos/view/id/197918?WT.mc_id=0307_Web_Enews_6_P

whatkindofWORLDdoyouwant.com is the first video community that gives back!

We are all connected to one another through our actions.
Each person has the ability to make a difference.

IRAQ... Focusing on the important issue... CHILDREN

Caveat.... Although some of the links that have been included may have a particular bias, it is not my aim to advocate a particular stand with regards to the current situation , but to highlight the plight of the innocent, the children. In some cases, a particular link is the only way to access pictures or statsitics regarding the children.

The children of Iraq are caught up in war for the third time in 20 years. Almost half of the population is under the age of 18. Even before the most recent conflict began, many children were highly vulnerable to disease and malnutrition. One in four children under five years of age is chronically malnourished. One in eight children die before their fifth birthday....
http://www.unicef.org/infobycountry/iraq.html

Some Sobering Statistics

1. 300 child deaths every day
2. 2000 children dead for every coalition soldier killed
3. 2,000,000 child victims since beginning of conflicts

In Their Own Words and Pictures
http://www.coia.org.uk/

Some Basic Statistics
http://www.unicef.org/infobycountry/iraq_statistics.html

Children Suffer Most In Iraq
http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/IRIN/de4dd305e273daa5d481422e784274db.htm

Iraqi Scholars Fighting For An Education
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/6491443.stm

Water Crisis in Iraq
http://www.unicef.org/infobycountry/iraq_39172.html

The Effects of Sanctions on the Children of Iraq
http://adc.bmj.com/cgi/content/full/archdischild%3b88/1/92

Dying of Neglect: The State of Iraq's Children's Hospitals
http://www.commondreams.org/headlines04/0221-06.htm

Homeless Children in Baghdad
http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0305/28/ltm.09.html

Innocent Children Jailed
http://www.washtimes.com/world/20060818-105609-3804r.htm

Children as Decoy
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2007/03/20/iraq/main2590605.shtml

March 22.. World Water Day

4,000 children die each day from a lack of safe water.

Two buckets of safe water a day – 20 litres – is the bare minimum a child needs to live. This is enough for drinking and eating, washing and basic sanitation. But some 4000 children die every day, because they simply don’t have access to an adequate supply of clean water.

“Clean water is an inviolable right,
not a privilege”

http://www.unicef.org/wes/index_bigpicture.html

Children's Rights with Regards to Water
According to the Conventions of the Rights of the Child children have the right to clean water to keep healthy and fit. (article 24). This is a basic element of their right to survive and reach their full potential (article 6) – one of the guiding principles of the Convention.
http://www.unicef.org/voy/explore/wes/explore_1891.html


Safe Water: Keeping Healthy in Darfur

http://www.unicef.org/voy/explore/wes/1883_2055.html

Lack of safe water endangers the health of Baghdad’s most deprived children

http://www.unicef.org/infobycountry/iraq_39172.html

http://www.un.org/waterforlifedecade/

http://www.unicef.org/voy/wes/

A Resource for Children
http://www.unicef.org/voy/explore/wes/explore_wes.php

“The most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed”

The belief that skin pigmentation has anything at all to do with integrity, intelligence, creativity or any kind of skill or human rights has long been discredited. Such a claim now seems absurd. (Peter Fryer, 1986)

"Barriers or walls", according to Rabbi Dr Jonathan Sachs, "are erected by people who are weak and insecure about themselves"


Children Share Their Views
http://www.bbc.co.uk//worldclass/freedom_my_story.shtml


Reflections on a Slave Pit
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NBTErUDIcz8

"It's as if slavery is a kind of compulsion for human societies.

"People go back again and again to treating people as objects, as possessions, and I don't think we can simply sit back and say it's a thing of the past and no more."

"All those modern forms of slavery: economic slavery - debt slavery in effect - the slavery of sex trafficking, these things are still with us."

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/north_yorkshire/6464345.stm

Abolition
http://www.bbc.co.uk/abolition/

March 21.... International Day for the Elimination fo Racial Discrimination

Why March 21?

March 21 is designated by the United Nations (UN) as the International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination. It's a day observed all around the world to focus attention on the problems of racism and the need to promote racial harmony.

The UN made this designation in 1966 to mark a tragic event that took place on March 21, 1960 in Sharpeville, South Africa when 69 peaceful demonstrators were killed during a protest against apartheid.

A Resource for Children
http://www.unicef.org/voy/explore/sowc07/explore_3333.html
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Equal Access
Integrated Education for Romani Children in Bulgaria
http://www.witness.org/index.php?option=com_rightsalert&Itemid=178&task=view&alert_id=51

Background: At an estimated 10 million people, Roma are the largest, yet most discriminated-against minority in Europe. In Bulgaria, 70 percent of young Roma, (approximately 30,000 children), attend sub-standard schools in segregated Romani neighborhoods. In November 2003, Dimitrina Petrova, then Executive Director of the European Roma Rights Center, described one of the schools:

"The Romani ghetto school was a cold, dirty, and horrible place. The classrooms were extremely run down, with the paint on the walls, floors, ceilings, and windows looking as if it had been exposed to both the deterioration of time and vandalism for at least a decade. The desks and the blackboards were a parody of furniture, all broken and decaying. The only sink, in the corridor of the first floor, had only ice-cold water. The toilets were clogged and overflowing."
Inadequate material conditions and the poor quality of education provided by unmotivated teachers contribute to low attendance rates of Roma pupils. Altogether, they alienate Romani children from schools and perpetuate the cycle of illiteracy, unemployment, and poverty.

The Legacy of Slavery

What do we mean by the legacy of slavery? Is it something measurable - or perhaps a feeling that echoes of a terrible past can still be heard today.

"There is an expectation of failure for black children in schools. And it comes down to how they are historically perceived by the school system."


"Society's continuing image of black men affects the way teachers address the children. But this is a vicious circle. If you continually tell a child that it is naughty then it will act that way."

"Empower people and look at their self-identity ... the key factor for any young person is how expectations of how they will turn out are reinforced and in turn influence behaviour."

Ken Barnes, 100 Black Men

from an article in the BBC

100 Black Men
http://www.100blackmen.org/

The overall concept of “100” began in New York in 1963 when a group of concerned African American men began to meet to explore ways of improving conditions in their community. The group eventually adopted the name, “100 Black Men, Inc.” as a sign of solidarity. These men envisioned an organization that would implement programs designed to improve the quality of life for African Americans and other minorities.
They also wished to ensure the future of their communities by aiming an intense number of resources toward youth development. These members were successful black men from various walks of life who want to improve the quality of life and enhance educational opportunities for African Americans.

Other Notable Programs to Train and Empower Inner-City Children

August 2002, the graduation ceremony of the Magdelene Carney Baha'i Institute's
"One World, One Family" Summer Camp in Little Haiti, Miami, Fl. The Hon. Phillip DeRose and Rep. Philippe Brutus in attendance.

Maharajahs and Mahatmas

When I was a little girl of 6, I had an experience that changed my life forever.
For Spring Break , my family and I travelled to India. Having lived an essentially sheltered and privileged life, what I saw transformed me forever. While we were in Bombay, during the days, my parents went shopping for antiques, leaving my sister and I to play in the pool, to be served Club sandwiches and Shirley Temples on silver plates by uniformed waiters at the Taj Mahal Hotel. (Where Pitt and Jolie have also stayed.) In the evening, however, my parents would take us out for dinner. We would walk to a favourite restaurant, where the kind owners washed the tandoori chicken several times before they served us, so as not to offend our delicate palates. Sometimes they would have to bring 8 or 9 dishes before something appealed to my little sister. This is the memory that my parents often repeat when they recall those days. On the other hand, what sticks out the most for me was the incredible poverty in the midst of the incredible beauty. In Bombay, the homeless people took over the sidewalks after 6 pm forcing pedestrians onto the street. My parents would complain of the inconvenience. I just starred in disbelief… Why weren’t they home? Was it too hot for them? Were they on vacation too? Was the hotel too full? But the hardest part for me were the lepers who escaped from the leper colonies begging for money. Or rather one in particular, who rolled on the ground, no hands, no feet, deformed and disfigured, with his bowl held with his teeth. How could one eat?
This was just the backdrop…
One day, we went on a tour. We visited a grave of black limestone. Simple, yet so powerful. It was the grave of a man called Mahatma Gandhi. “Great! Another dead person with a strange name!” I sighed. But I was also in awe of the reverence with which our guide spoke of this funny looking skinny man in a loincloth. Then we went on a tour of his house. Inside, in glass cases, dolls re-enacted scenes from his life. And his death.
Something happened to me that day. My life changed forever. I knew of the suffering and martyrdom of Manifestations of God. But somehow, because they were prophets from God, they seemed far removed from me. But here was a mortal, a man, like you and me, who died because of his ideals. Even we could die for our ideals. I can still see the final photograph on the wall… his shattered glasses lying on the grass.
I begged my father for a photograph of Gandhi. He always humoured my whims and fancies. It made for a cute story to tell their friends.
Finally we returned home, after spending our last week in a Maharaja’s palace. And I remember this as though it was yesterday. I, the messy artist girl that I was, cleaned up my half of the room. I collected my toys and placed them in the closet. I decided that my childhood was officially over. There was suffering in the world, there was work to be done. I made a frame for Gandhi’s picture and placed it on my dresser, in the place of honour, where hours before lay my Holly Hobbie doll. I swore to his picture that things would be different. That I would work hard from then on…
Years later, the blind author for who I worked as a manuscript reader gave me a nickname… Mahatma… And I smiled remembering those days.

There is so much work to be done…

Site of the Week: Conventions on the Rights of the Child

The most widely ratified human rights' treaty in history, the Conventions on the Rights of the Child was agreed to on 20 November 1989 by the United Nations General Assembly, by 191 member States. (the US and Somalia being the only two not to ratify it.)


Child rights in action

For a beautiful photo essay of the Rights
http://www.unicef.org/crc/index_understanding.html

These universally agreed set of standards and obligations place children center-stage in the quest for a just, respectful and peaceful society.

It spells out the basic human rights for all children, everywhere, all the time:
1.Definition of a Child
2. Non-discrimination
3. Best Interests of the Child
4. Protection of Rights
5. Parental Guidance
6. Survival and Development
7. Registration, name nationality and care
8. Preservation of Identity
9. Separation from parents
10. Family Reunification
11. Kidnapping
12. Respect for the views of the child
13. Freedom of expression
14. Freedom of thought, conscience and religion
15. Freedom of association
16. Right to Privacy
17. Access to information; mass media
18. Parental responsibilities; state assistance
19. Protection from all forms of violence
20. Children Deprived of family environment
21. Adoption
22. Refugee children
23. Children with disabilities
24. Health and services
25. Review of treatment
26. Social security
27. Adequate Standard of living
28. Right to education
29. Goals of education
30. Children of minorities/ indigenous groups
31. Leisure, play, culture
32. Child Labour
33. Drug abuse
34. Sexual exploitation
35. Abduction, sale and trafficking
36. Other forms of Exploitation
37. Detention and punishment
38. War and armed conflict
39. Rehabilitation of child victims
40. Juvenile justice
41. Respect for superior national standards
42. Knowledge of rights
43-54 Implementation measures

A Resource For Children
http://www.unicef.org/voy/explore/rights/explore_155.html

Book of the Week- For Every Child... the rights of the child in words and pictures

"Whoever we are, wherever we live, these are the rights of every child under the sun and the moon and the stars."
A beautiful presentation, for children, of the UN Convention of the Rights of the Child. The foreward, by Bishop Desmond Tutu, is beautiful and stirring. "We each can make a difference if we are vigilant to create a new kind of society, more compassionate, more caring, more sharing where children's rights are respected and protected. Politicians ultimately offer what people want. Let us tell them we ant peace and prosperity for everyone."
A must have for every parent and child... and those of us who value our children and therefore our future.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/0803726503/ref=sib_dp_pt/102-0094345-1470508#reader-link

Global Action Week....Education As a Human Right

Education As a Human Right
A basic education is a right inherent to being human, each child's birthright and thus constitutes an end in itself. However, education is also a means to an end: it is required to ensure all people can live in a dignified manner and participate effectively in society. It also enables human beings to exercise all the other human rights (enshrined in the UN Declaration of Human Rights). Unfortunately there is often a gap between the language of "rights" and the setting of "development goals" (which are often more influential in defining the actions of governments). The Education For All Goals, that were reaffirmed at the Dakar World Education Forum in 2000, were unusual in recognising the right to education: … all children, young people and adults have the human right to benefit from an education that will meet their basic learning needs…Ensuring that by 2015 all children…have access to and complete free and compulsory primary education of good quality' .

Next year, 2007, is a crucial year as it is the mid-point towards the EFA goals. Time is running out to achieve these. It is an important moment for demanding more urgent action towards achieving education rights. Rather than being a distant ideal these rights need to be converted into a reality now – and the EFA goals gives us a deadline.

http://www.campaignforeducation.org/action/2007/action.html

http://www.unesco.org/education/efa/wef_2000/index.shtml

http://www.un.org/News/Press/docs/2000/20000426.sgsm7369.doc.html

Emptiness and the Third Grade

Emptiness and the Third Grade

“You have to have a talk with your son!” the third grade teacher begged me today. “My son” is Marc, my former homicidal student, as opposed to Kyle, my suicidal student, from last year. Marc is my love, and I cannot imagine one day loving my own child half as much as I love this little boy.
Marc came with me and sat with me for a heart to heart talk as I furiously filled out the remaining 4 report cards. He spoke to me for a few minutes about his teacher and about the things she had done. I distractedly looked up and said’ “Okay, so I have heard about all the stuff that she has done but I have yet to hear a word about what you did to have all these terrible things happen to you.” He thought for a few moments and said “Well I did punch my textbook and kick the table.”
“But Marc, I thought we worked out how to handle your anger last year.”
“Yeah but this is different. My teacher thinks I am like Kyle. You remember Kyle right? She thinks I do this because I want attention. But that is not it at all”
“How is it different, tell me.” I said as I tried to recall whether Takkiyha has trouble with beginning or the end of the words.
“I am very sad.”
“What do you mean?” I asked as I looked up to see tears start to pool in his eyes.
“I… I…feel an emptiness inside.”
“What do you mean?”
“I feel very alone. Sometimes I don’t feel like I have any friends or that any one understands me. I feel an emptiness inside.”
“But Marc, you have Luc-Albert who adores you, he’s your best friend.”
He just shrugged his shoulders and gave me the saddest smile and then put his head back on the desk.
He tried to explain the emptiness, the void that he feels.
“Marc, let me tell you something. You are an artist, a gifted writer. People with talent, who are artistic, are sometimes more sensitive than others, they feel things more deeply. That is what makes their art so unique. I know you feel that no one understands you, but let me tell you something. You need friends who understand this very special part of you. Like Sergneno. He is sensitive; he is a writer like you. Maybe the emptiness that you feel is because you aren’t writing.”
“No, Ms. Bahrami. I write a lot. I am getting really good at sentences.”
“No, honey, I mean your poetry… you need to write your poetry”
“But I have nothing to say now… I just feel an emptiness.”
We spoke a few more minutes and then there was a brief pause. I looked at Marc and asked, “Marc, this has nothing to do with a problem with a girl does it?”
“No!” came the indignant reply. He shook his head and said something unfair that his teacher had done that day. Then mid-sentence he sheepishly puts his head to one side and looks at me. “Ms. Bahrami, it actually does have something to do with a girl.”
“Who, Marc? Some one in your class?” My motherly instincts kicking in.
He looked down and said nothing.
“You know you don’t have to tell me her name, but if you want to talk about it I am here to listen.”
“Well, it is just that I don’t know if she likes me too.”
“Well, have you talked to her about it?”
“Well, actually no. But I have asked some one to ask her for me. Well actually a few people.”
“Well, you know I have always found in these cases that being honest and talking to the person themselves works best. It is such a nice thing to find out some one cares about you.”
“Well actually I have a few people who are taking care of it for me. Hey, Ms. Bahrami, is the movie on now?”
The principal had decided to play A CHARLIE BROWN VALENTINE for the children as a treat last thing on Friday afternoon. I turned it on, as Chuck was agonizing over how to handle the situation with the little redheaded girl. Perhaps Chuck could help Marc out of his dilemma much better than his well-meaning ex-teacher ever could.

But when you think about it, how sad it is that our society has placed such demands on such young children that a 9 year old boy would feel such sadness and emptiness on a day dedicated to a physician who lost his life because of his faith and his commitment to help his fellow men.
Happy Valentine’s Day!

Children of War

Children of War

They are the children of war,
Too young to have an opinion
But old enough to know its pain and agony.
Caught in the middle
With no means of escape.
Why should they suffer?
They, who are so innocent,
They, who have everything ahead of them.
Why should they even know what war is
What pain feels like.
They will always remember the horror
Until the day they die....
If they haven't already done so.

September 1982

The Secret Lives of Children- Tiyana the Defiant Colt

The Secret Lives of Children- Tiyana the Defiant Colt

And there was Tiyana…. Tiyana the only child I have never been able to reach, the only child who never allowed me inside her inner sanctum.
The strange case of Tiyana… She was a beautiful girl: tall, bright-eyed with stunning features, and who unfortunately carried quite the wallop on her. Every so often, in the midst of a lesson or an activity, we would hear “Leavmehalone!” and I know that Tiyana was still awake.
To say that she had an attitude was an understatement… to say that she was an attitude would be much more accurate and appropriate. She was trouble, I could tell that from day one. She was a mean nasty little girl wrapped up in the most deceiving of packages. Her mother, a plucky woman with a commanding presence and plenty of attitude to spare, told me during the first conference on my second day as her teacher, that her daughter was a problem: she had an attitude and under no circumstances should I tolerate any lip from her. All I would have to do was make a phone call home and she would be there to set the girl straight. Perhaps I did a disservice to Tiyana that I tried to handle her myself. I didn’t want her to get hit because of my inexperience as a teacher… so I tried to deal with her with all the limited tools that I had at my disposal: the time out corner, no recess, and Ms. Roberts’ corner, the Siberia of North Fork Second Grade.
She was a mean spirited little girl who invoked fear in the hearts of the other children. She was a commanding presence on the playground. I would watch her from where I stood, examining her, dissecting her, and trying to discover the secret to her success. She was the type of girl who would issue forth a command and others would obey instantaneously. I wanted to know where she derived her absolute authority over the children. She was my Stalin. People obeyed her not because of any love that they may have harbored in their heart for her but out of sheer terror. You did as she said because if you didn’t, you might be banished to a gulag.
On a regular basis, little girls would come sobbing to me with tales of her viciousness and vindictiveness. They were shunned because it had been her wish. No rhyme or reason to it all. Her best friend Shasheona was rejected for one recess and that was the most surprising thing. And when she kicked you out of the inner sanctum, it would seem that life as you knew it was over even though there were 17 other students to play with, who were infinitely more fun and definitely more caring.
The day Shay was thrown to the wayside was particularly memorable, because the girl cried as though she had lost her entire family. She was inconsolable. I promised that I would be her friend forever, but she wasn’t interested. I brought the other girls one by one, each bearing gifts of one kind or another. But none of it stopped that poor girl’s tears. She wanted her best friend back, and her best friend would have none of that. I appealed to Tiyana’s better sense. She just stood there staring me defiantly in the face, locking eyes with me, daring me to do what I really wanted to do. “Okay, fine Tiyana! I can’t make you be nice but I can try to teach you how to get along with Shay, so for the rest of the day you two will hold hands. You will hold hands in line, in the cafeteria, at specials…You will continue to hold hands until you learn to get along with each other which all I ask of you”
She stared at me, this bone-chilling stare and tried to defy me for as long as she could. “You know the longer you put off doing what I have asked you to do, the longer this will last. The choice is up to you.”
She marched herself to her former best friend swinging her arms from side to side. Then she grabbed Shay’s hand and held it with such contempt. It was pointless to try to make her accept the punishment with radiant acquiescence. I was satisfied with the fact that she had at least relented to do what was asked of her. I was so relieved not to be forced into a confrontation with her.
And so the days passed. She would be sent to the corner four or five times a day. Every single time it was because she copped an attitude about any and all things that were asked of her. Sometimes she would march herself to the corner crying silent tears, at the injustice of it all, but she never uttered a word. And as I ordered her into the corner the fear ran through me that I might be breaking her spirit. And that was the part that kept me awake most nights. She was a girl with great spirit. I couldn’t imagine anything breaking her down or keeping her down for that matter. And then I realized what she reminded me of. A black stallion colt… She was my spirited colt and I lacked the necessary skills to tame her.
And yet she was capable of great acts of kindness and when she was happy she had the most beautiful of smiles.
I always imagined her as leather clad biker chick leaning against the wall of her local hangout, intimidating the other girls. I could see her sticking out her chest and cornering the likes of Riche and Tequisha and beating them into submission. Or else there was the image of her a powerful and influential lawmaker who would never back down from any fight or any situation. A brilliant public defender… but quite honestly she would most probably end up being a thug.
But it was her other habit that drove the class to distraction. Every day at least two or three boys and girls would scream out. “Ms. Bahrami! Tiyana rolled her eyes at me again!” as if it was the most offensive act that could be committed by one of their classmates. But at least, she was controlling her smoldering tongue.
“I know dear… just don’t look at her. But tell me why are you looking at her when you should be doing your homework anyways?” that usually stopped the whining from the other side. Oops! They themselves had been caught being disobedient and therefore could not and would not be offered my protection.
But sometimes I would not be so callous. “I know dear. But what can I do? The screws holding her eyes have become loose and I can’t seem to find my special eye-rolling screwdriver.” I would try to laugh it off, but the kids just looked at me in the beginning as if to try to figure out how it was that I just couldn’t understand that gravity of the situation. And a few seconds later I would hear her grunt “Levmehlone!”
Possibly talk about the time that some one had rolled their eyes at her and she was crying!
Life in the inner city is tough. Let us not kid ourselves about it. The horrors that these kids are exposed to at such an early age are so horrendous, so egregious that not only does it warp the children, but most sadly, robs them of a childhood, a time of innocence and wonder. That it worst crime we who stand by the wayside commit against these children.
Tiyana came to school one Monday morning looking rather morose. She lined up at the Media Center without any incidents, did not utter a single word as we walked to class, and then took out her homework without being prompted.
“Okay everyone! Good morning! I know I missed you guys a lot this weekend and I am so looking forward to our week together!” Blank hungry stares from my audience. “So do you guys want to share any thing about your weekend with the class?”
And immediately several hands shot up. Every one wanted to talk about the swimming pool and Boomers. But Tiyana who always has something to say, usually in the middle of some one else’s story, remained motionless, staring out in front of her. After several stories, I called on Tiyana. “Dear, do you have anything you would like to share with the class?”
“I am very sad!”
“I can tell that, honey. Why don’t you tell us why you are sad maybe we can cheer you up?”
“My daddy had moved back to Georgia!” she said as she fought back her tears.
“Well I am sure he is going to come back soon.”
“No, he isn’t” She growled with such vehemence. “He is going to live with his son and I will never see him again. He had told..”
“Say told dear, you don’t need to say had!’
“He had… I mean he told my mom that he was never coming back!”
“Why is that dear? Did they have an argument? I’m sure when he feels bett…”
“No, my mom had got mad at him because he pushed her, so she had took a knife and stabbed him… like this” and she started stabbing wildly at the desk with vengeance.
“Oh dear!” I was speechless. How could I turn this into a positive experience? “Well, that is why we keep telling you not to hit each other in the playground because you can really hurt each other’s feelings.”
“But he has to come back next week.”
“See and you were worried that you were never going to see him aga…”
“Because he has to turn himself to the police and go to jail.”
Now she had me stumped.. What was I to say to this?
During “Say No To Drugs” week she stunned us all once again. We practiced how we would say no to a person who would offer drugs to us. Then we had a fantastic discussion about just who would be offering us drugs.
“My uncles are in jail.” She blurted out during the discussion. “My little uncle Thaddeus had gone…”
“Don’t say had gone dear, just went!”
“Oh my bad!” she said as she continued all in one breath, “My uncle Thaddeus had went to jail ‘cuz he is a baser and was selling crack to some people on our street. So now he is in jail and he had missed his own birthday and he had missed mine too. And I am sad ‘cuz he used to play a lot with me.”
“Hmm” was all I could think to offer to the girl.
She took another breath and said, “And my uncle Lamar had gone to jail because he roughed up some one who had owed him a lot of money, even more than fifty dollars. He’s going to be there for a longest time because that guy had died in the hospital. And now there is no one to play with me at my Nana’s house, so I have to go to the Boys’ and Girls’ Club.”
And what is there to say to a child who shares this about their family background with you? What other than thug mentality could she have?

The next week, I was called into the office as I was taking the kids to Art. “Ms. Bahrami, there is a parent here to see you.” That is always a mixed blessing in my school, as parents rarely come to discuss their kid’s progress or lack thereof.
I was there five minutes later, looking around to see who was waiting for me but all I saw was a young skinny boy of perhaps sixteen, slapping a “Flower Power” note book in an agitated manner on his knee.
So I asked the receptionist. “Ms. Rosario, you said there is some one here to see me?”
“Yes Ms. Bahrami, Mr. Goines is here to see you!” as she motioned behind me.
“Huh?” I said as I turned around, and the skinny kid stood up!!!
“Ms Bahrami. I am very unhappy”, he said in the most serious of tones.
I was still recovering from the shock of him being who the receptionist said he was. I wanted to ask him when he had gotten out of jail; perhaps I should congratulate him even… But I wisely decided against it.
“Mr. Goines. So nice to meet you,” I said as I held out my hand. “Let’s walk back to the room where we can talk in private.”
But he was too angry and in too much of a hurry. “Ms Bahrami… I am too upset about this,” he said as he opened the little pink notebook to a page that had one badly written sentence on it.
I stopped and took the notebook from him. On the page was written what amounted to “Riche is a damn ugly bitch” I looked at him confused. “I don’t understand! That is Tiyana’s handwriting.” Was he actually ratting out his own daughter?
“Yes, “ he said flustered. “She had wrote this in class!”
”In my class?” I was stunned.
“No, at the Boys’ and Girls’ club”
I was confused. Shouldn’t he be talking to them about this? “This upsets me because the children know I don’t tolerate any meanness between them.”
“Ms. Bahrami, I wanna tell you that because of my business, I am out of town a lot.” I found that hard to believe but found it unnecessary to call the man on it. “I can’t be here, but my wife can. We just want to ask you to keep Tiyana and Shay away from each other. Shay is a nasty girl and is trouble for Tiyana.” I begged to differ with him but still I let him continue. ”So we want to ask you not to let them have anything with each other during school.”
“As you wish, but it will be difficult because they are best friends”
“No playing, not even in the playground.”
“I will try to do my best.”
“Now, can I see her so that she can see that we are serious?”
“Yes, of course!” I said.” I’m sure she will be very happy to see you.”

The problems within her family continued. A few months later, I asked the children the same innocent question again, “Tell me bout your weekend, but this time write about it.” Some children jumped at the chance to write. Others hemmed and hawed, until finally Bruno volunteered, “But Ms. Bahrami, I had a terrible weekend.”
“Dear, I didn’t ask you to write about your fabulous weekend, I just want you to write about your weekend. I personally had a lousy weekend. I was very sad because I missed all my family and friends. I cried even. But you know that was my weekend.”
With that little story, the rest of them perked up. Yes, they had permission to tell me about their lousy weekends. Just how lousy, we were about to find out.
The first few volunteers read about waterslides, ice cream and their swimming feats. Tiyana once again sat in silence. She hadn’t written a single word.
“Tiyana, do you want to read what you have written?”
“I am very sad because my weekend was very bad. My mother and father had got into a fight and my mother had got so mad at my father that she had picked up scissors and had tore up all of his pictures. And then my father had got mad and… and.” She started to tear up.
“It’s ok, dear. Take a deep breath. Tell us and maybe we can help you feel better.” Tears now started rolling down her face as she shook her head. The children started to be loving and encouraging to her. “Come on, Tiyana, we will help you to feel good,” Bruno promised her.
Tiyana looked up and looked at all of us. Then she took a deep breath. “My father had got mad and then,” she started to cry,” and then he punched my mother in the eye so hard and now… and now,” She started to sob, “And now she is blind and cross-eyed out of one eye! And she told him to get out and he’s going away for ever and I will never see him for as long as I live.” and then she started sobbing. I went to her and put my arms around her. “Shhhh, baby! It will be fine.”
“No it won’t! She is blind out of one eye!” she sobbed.
“No, honey. The doctors can help her. Has she gone to a doctor?”
“ No she will go today.”
”I bet she’ll have good news for you when you get there.” And yet what if it wasn’t true, she would think of me as a liar forever.
That set off a flurry of different stories. It seemed like all the fathers in the class were beating up on the mothers. It seemed that all the children had tried at various times to rescue their defenseless mothers from their fathers.
We spent the rest of the day talking and sharing and ended it by drawing a safe place where nothing bad could happen and our safety could be assured. Bruno even drew a picture of me driving an ice-cream truck!
I took Tiyana aside as the others were drawing their safe places.
“Listen, honey. I know that tonight is going to be a rough night for you because it is the first night without your father. So how about if Mr. Snugums comes home with you for this week to make sure that everything goes smoothly.”
Her eyes brightened up immediately. Mr. Snugums was our beloved stuffed brown bear. The kids would always beg and plead to be allowed to keep him at their desks, and here I was bestowing the most extraordinary honor on Tiyana! Not only would she be allowed to hold him, but also she would be allowed to take him home! And not for just one night… for an entire week.
“Really?!!” she said with pure amazement. “I can hold him now?” her eyes pleading with me.
“No, honey!” I said as I glanced around the classroom surveying the confused yet jealous looks in the eyes of the other children. “You get to keep him for a week. I think that the others would may be feel bad if you got to keep him at your desk during the day as well. I don’t know, what do you think?”
She nodded her head, for had the honor been bestowed on some one else, hers would have been the loudest voice in protest. “Kay!”
For the rest of the day I had to contend with sixteen other children bringing their sad cases to me, begging to be allowed to take other stuffed animals home. “But, Ms. Bahrami…. You don’t understand I am very sad and lonely.”
Each and every time when I had to say no, I think my heart broke just as badly as theirs. How did Solomon ever manage to dole out his justice?
But nothing broke my heart more than what was about to happen next.
As we lined up to go for lunch I heard a scream and then Riche skidding across the floor, sobbing.
“What happened?” I demanded. I had just turned my back for a split second to get my money for lunch.
“Levmehlone” Tiyana barked as she rolled her eyes and turned around with her arms folded across her chest.
I held Riche in my arms, trying to ascertain if she was all right. In the meantime fifteen eager voices tried to tell me simultaneously just what Tiyana had managed to do this time. Apparently Riche had stood behind Shasheona in line. But since Shay and Tiyana were the bestest of friends, she had decided that the spot rightfully belonged to her. All this despite my new rule that the two girls were not allowed to stand together in line, as per Mr. Goines. She then proceeded to try to squeeze herself between the two girls, and when that did not work, she shoved Riche with all of her might and sent her flying.
“Tiyana Goines,” I said sternly. “My goodness! We are all going to the same place at the same time to eat the same food. Must we go through this each and every time that we line up for lunch? Come on guys! You are almost third graders, not in Pre-K! “ I looked around at my fidgety class who stood in line with their eyes accusingly staring at Tiyana. “Tiyana, I want to speak to you. Line leader! Door holder! Start moving towards the cafeteria.”
Tiyana did not come towards me. She just stood there kicking the ground and scrunching her face, almost muttering.
“You know, I promised I would give you Mr. Snugums for a week.” I said as I put my arm around her shoulder and moved towards the end of the line. But I am sorry, young lady. You did something you shouldn’t have done. You knew that you shouldn’t have done it. You know the class rules. So now you only get to keep him for one night. Because I do not and will not tolerate this kind of behavior in my classroom.” I looked at her; her face just became more scrunched up. “The classroom is our safe place because we have rules, and we all follow those rules. You don’t want it to become an unsafe place do you?” Frankly, I don’t think at that point she really gave a hoot what kind of a classroom it was, so long as she got the bear. She moved very slowly dragging her feet along the path. “That is okay if you are in a bad mood now, because it shows that you are thinking about what just happened. Don’t let it happen again!” But I knew full well that it would.
The next morning a smiling Tiyana happily handed the bear back to me. Would my colleagues ever be surprised! They had assured me that it was the last I would see of Mr. Snugums.
She beamed at me as she said, ”Ms. Bahrami! Mr. Snugums helped me a lot. He had done my homework with me, watched TV, ate dinner and then had watched over me as I had slept! It was fun!”
I smiled at her and gave her a hug. At least she was smiling throughout her ordeal.
The next week during my free time I received a very belligerent call from Tiyana’s mother. She cut right to the chase. “Ms. Bahrami, I want to know what right you have to send my daughter out of the classroom for a week and make her write a letter of apology!”
Boy was I shocked! I thought that this would be a friendly call thanking me for all of my efforts with her, For having made the transition ot living without her father a bit easier for her. Instead this mother wanted to tear me from limb to limb over the phone.
“I’m sorry? I am afraid I don’t understand what you are referring to!”
“Didn’t you kick my daughter out of the class for a week?”
“No, I could and would never do something like that.” I was trying very hard to understand what she was talking about. And then I remembered! “On Friday, Tiyana said some very hurtful things to another child. I sent her to Ms. Roberts’s class with paper so she could write a letter of apology to the child, to me and to you.”
There was silence on the other side of the line.
”And then I added that if she needed to go to the other classroom for a week to complete what I had asked her to do, it would be fine with me. The choice was up to her.”
“She… she … she told me something different.”
“I know that but I am telling you what I told her. But I am glad you called because I am very worried about Tiyana.” I was trying to work my way up to discussing her home situation with her mother.
“Why? Have her grades slipped?”
“Well, she is having difficulty concentrating and she is not being nice towards her fellow classmates.” I paused before I said the next thing. “Frankly, I think it might have something to do with what is going on at home right now.”
She immediately barked back, “What is going on at home?”
Was she kidding me? Had she recovered from her injuries so quickly?
“You know the episode with you and Mr. Goines. And how you couldn’t see out of your eye for a long time.”
“Ms. Bahrami,” She screamed over the phone. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Tiyana has a perfect family life.”
”I’m sorry? But you don’t understand, the child was hysterical last week. We did nothing but talk about this all last Monday. I sent the teddy bear home with her to ease her pain.”
She was adamant. “I can see that she has started with her lying again. You can be sure that I will be having a nice long talk with her tonight to set her straight. Good day!” And then there was a dial tone.
My goodness! Could it be true? Could Tiyana have fabricated the whole story? Or as an abused woman, was her mother unwilling to admit what was really going on in her house? I am still not too sure what really happened.
And just when I thought that I had her figured out as the biker chick thug, who could possibly beat me up in a dark alley because I sent her to the corner so many times, Tiyana showed a side of her that totally floored me.
Periodically a group of highschool students would come to our classroom to do a “Character Development “ program with the children. There were songs and lessons, that to me seemed half baked, but the kids really enjoyed them. I had always thought that the half an hour that they had together was a welcome respite for me. But there was always so much guidance that the older children needed, and I had to jump and down like a fool most days to get my children excited enough to participate in the program.
The lessons went by “smoothly” and the kids really bonded with the older children. All except Tiyana, who was standoffish with every one. The second to last day of the program, when the children were being prepped for their upcoming performance, one of the older girls brought a camera to take a picture of the second graders, as a souvenir. It was only then that the children realized that after the performance, they would probably never see the highschoolers again. Every one was sad, including me. We had bonded and I enjoyed my interactions with them as well. We were all in the midst of hugging each other when we heard a terrible crying sound. I looked around to see who it was. To my extreme surprise it was Tiyana. She was holding onto Melissa for dear life and refused to let her go. Her crying was so gut-wrenching that soon even the boys were crying.
“Come on, Tiyana! Why are you crying dear?”
Just an open mouthed wail with lots of liquid oozing from everywhere.
“Honey, Melissa will be back tomorrow!”
Wailing!
“Tiyana, your crying is a good thing. It means you have made a friend that you love. And maybe if we can ask nicely the girls will come back for a visit again before school is out!”
She just sobbed and carried on. She had such a fit that we had to send her to the nurse’s office.
This was a scene that was repeated at the final performance, and then when Kyle’s mom withdrew him from school, and then when the girls came back for their “Thank you” party.
Clearly the girl was suffering from separation anxiety. She had been traumatized so badly in her personal life that she could not handle a loss of any kind. One day she had a father, the next day she didn’t. One day she had two attentive uncles, and the next day she didn’t. Would she ever see any of them again? God only knew.
I began to dread what our final day together would be like. I had stopped her from crying a few times when we talked about the party we would be having on the second to last day.
And then the dreaded hour arrived. The first to say goodbye would be the bus and van riders. I stood by the door with outstretched arms, hugging my little chickies for the final time before they flew the nest. One by one they filed by and hugged me for dear life, telling me how much they loved me, how they would visit me every single day. They promised that they would never ever, as long as they lived, forget their funniest teacher. Could they please not be promoted to third grade?
And then it was Tiyana’s turn. I braced myself, preparing for the worst. She turned her head and she brushed passed me. “Wait up, Shay!” she yelled as she crossed the threshold of the classroom, and disappeared into the crowd of students heading towards their buses.
And that was it. Part of me was very happy that there was no ugly scene. Part of me was happy that the last day had not traumatized her. But, no goodbye? No smile? No hug? No closure? The spirited colt had broken free, and was now heading towards uncharted territory.