A cynic by nature, I could not help but wonder if I would truly be able to make an impact on the lives of the children at Jiguchon School after our first encounter a month ago. With a mere week to spend with each class and our ranks greatly outnumbered, I had my fair share of reservations. It did not help that the students seemed largely disinterested in the English content we were forcing down their throats. I constantly questioned the effectiveness of our volunteering, for their lackadaisical responses hardly justified our efforts.
But interestingly, the end of each week always marked a transition point in our relationship with the children, as we bid each class farewell and moved on to the next group. Once they no longer perceived us as figures of authority, whose primary responsibility was to instruct them in a sterile, academic setting, we were showered with effusive displays of affection during every little encounter we had with them. The first and second graders waited eagerly for us to arrive every morning and sought great amusement in playing hide and seek in the nooks and crannies of the computer room. The third and fourth graders pulled no punches with their loving embraces, sweet professions and incessant requests for us to draw their favorite cartoon characters. The fifth and sixth graders, on the other hand, often ambushed us warmly with sneak water gun attacks, their mischievous howls of laughter ricocheting through the hallways as they hastily made their escape.
As much as I went through the same rite of passage with a new group of children every week, no two weeks were remotely redolent of each other, with each one presenting unique challenges and opportunities. Every day was full of surprises, as the children often opened up to me at the most unexpected timings. I was taken aback by the indifferent, matter-of-fact tones in which some of them shared their heart-wrenching life stories. These confessions made me perceive their exuberant demeanors in a different light, for I simply could not unsee the pain and sadness they concealed.
Now that our time at Jiguchon has come to an end, I can’t say that I’ve gotten to know each and every one of the students there. But there are definitely a handful of children whom I have established a personal connection with and come to admire deeply and care for dearly. The short time I’ve spent with them was probably not a life-changing experience for them, but I hope that I’ve influenced their mindsets for the better in some ways, just as they have changed the lens through which I perceive the world.
As much as all of us have moments that we try to cling onto adamantly, most of them end up fading in the hustle and bustle of life. Yet, the precious and important ones never truly leave, forever nestled within our subconscious as core memories that shape our identities and perspectives. Some even resurface from time to time, when evoked by the most unexpected sights, sounds and smells.
This summer will definitely become one such enduring memory for me, and I wish the same for the children.
