This month I live on the island of Penang, Malaysia with seven beautiful girls that make up the team To The Ends Of The Earth.
Every morning, Monday through Friday, we teach at a school on the mainland. We aren’t just teaching English, but an assortment of other subjects too.
Last week I taught Year 4 how to multiply two three digit numbers together. After that, I demonstrated a science experiment about sound travel through air, water, and wood. The following morning I helped Year 1 count from 1-200.
Some days it’s addition, others it’s subtraction. Some days it’s how to pronounce the “at” sound.
Some days our job is nothing more than crowd control in a class of 20+ 4-6 year olds. Other days a teacher is absent, and we leave behind the title of assistant teacher to become teacher in a matter of seconds.
But boy does my heart melt when I hear “tea-cheur, tea-cheur” echoed throughout the classroom. Or the smile on their faces when they get a problem right and the satisfaction in their eyes when our hands go up for a high five.
These kids aren’t just your normal students attending public school every day. This situation is far different.
We are teaching at a school that isn’t acknowledged or supported by the Malaysian government. This is a school for refugees fleeing Burma/Myanmar whose families have fled to Malaysia in hopes of a better life, of a hopeful future.
But what they find isn’t what they were hoping for. They have no chance of becoming citizens because the Malaysia government doesn’t recognize refugees as anything more than illegal immigrants. The only thing somewhat protecting them is a refugee card from the UNHCR. These children fear going outside due to the chances of being picked up from the police. If it weren’t for local teachers and volunteers also playing it safe, under the radar, these children would never be given an education.
Out of safety for the children and the teachers, I’m not allowed to give out the name of the school or any of the children. And I have to sensor what I share with you in this blog. Because there have been instances when the school has been raided and a teacher and a student have been arrested for being there.
These children have so much more to worry about than the average child.
One of the girls, a Year 6 student, wants to be a fashion designer. I was teaching her reading/writing one day at school and asked her to write an essay about that dream of hers. She wants people to know her name, she wrote. She wants to be a fashion designer back in her home country because she loves Myanmar fashion and aspires to be a part of it.
As she read me her essay, all I could think is what if she never gets to go back? What if she never gets the chance to go to college? Why do things have to be so hard for these children?
The classes are arranged by what they know, not by age. Which means there is a 15 year old in the Kindergarten class. A young girl who is struggling to learn the sounds of the english alphabet. The teachers are nervous for her. When she is 16, the chances are much higher that she will be married off, ending her opportunity to come to school.
For some, time isn’t an issue. But for her, time is running out.
I had the chance to work with refugees in Greece month 2 and 3 of my race and it was the most life changing experience I’ve ever had. I knew I wanted to work with refugees again and started looking into what that looked like after the race. And now, it’s month 8, and God has given me the chance to work with them again.
This month is such a gift. (I think I say that about every month almost).
But this month looks so much different than it did last time. Working with refugees changes your heart in a way I will never be able to explain.
These children, these families, have left everything they know. They live in fear every day of the possibilities that could happen.
At the beginning of each class, we ask if the children have anything we can pray for. Just last week, one of the kids – a 10 year old boy – had lost his uncle earlier that day. He was killed by a gang just near his home.
These children have faced more trials and more heartache than most people experience in a lifetime.
And here we are, getting frustrated in the classroom over the littlest things.
You guys, teaching is hard. And it’s even harder when they don’t speak our language. But it is so worth it.
These children might be Muslim, but they still have a Father who loves them dearly and is hoping that one day He can have a relationship with them.
And in the meantime, we get to show them that love.
Refugees aren’t scary people like the news tends to portray them. They are people just like you and me. And they deserve so much more than they are given. They deserve to walk outside and not be scared of who might see them. They deserve a safe place they can call home. They deserve the right to an education. They deserve to be understood, to be acknowledged.
And we as Christians are called to love them in whatever ways possible. Because many of us are all in a way, refugees. Running from something – whether it be a country, an addiction, a past, a temptation, a mistake, or a fear.
And not just that, but Jesus was the first refugee of all, fleeing His home and later traveling to places He was unwelcome. Can you imagine the heart that he must have for these people?
Having several experiences to work with refugees has changed something in my heart. And I pray hard that the news back home isn’t instilling a fear in people that can’t be undone. Because these people don’t need to be feared. They just need to be loved. And accepted.
Join me in praying for them. Pray for those that are trying to return home and pray for those that are looking for jobs. Pray for the teachers who are giving up so much to be here, getting paid a mere $10 a day. Pray for everyone out there that identifies as a refugee and I promise your heart towards them will change too.
And if you ever encounter them in your path of life, love them hard. Get to know them. Because they are incredible people that have taught me far more about life than I could ever begin to teach them.
