Derby educator returns to U.S. after mission in Africa

Says she will miss friends she made in Kenya

By Lois Knapton

Director, Special Education

Derby Public Schools

After months living in Nairobi, Kenya, Africa, I am headed home to Derby.

 As the 747-400, double-decker airplane attempts lift off, I am filled with mixed emotions. 

Lois Knapton

 I remember how excited I was to be going to serve in Africa, but this time, the excitement is not the same.
Although  I am looking forward to seeing all my friends, family, and colleagues, back in the U.S., at the same time, I know it will be an emotional struggle to re-integrate into a society that is so opposite to what I have been living in for the last three months.

  I am already missing the many intimate friendships I made with the Kenyans. 

 Although I lived in a "normal' house at night with all the amenities, including "house help," during the day I worked deep in the slums of the Mathare Valley... and words and pictures simply cannot describe it.

 Some of the Kenyan people Knapton met

In the slums, there is no sewer and no running water, no washing machines, no bathrooms, no stoves, no sinks, no refrigeration, one bed for 10 people, dirt floors in a tin shack; and maybe there is a small kerosene cook stove where rice is boiling.  

A walk through the slums

They lead such a simple, yet so difficult life, solely based on survival and lead by their deep faith.   In this survival mode, there is no room for "American" thinking... Americans are loud. Many are materialistic, egocentric, self-centered, fast-paced and on their own "mission" to make "me" feel as comfortable as "I" need.  

This outlook on life is completely the opposite of how I have been living for the last 2.5 months. My anxiety toward re-integration is real. 

As I did my first load of laundry on U.S. soil, my mind kept flashing back to the many women, hand washing their clothes and bathing their  children in a small bin filled with  water they had lugged on their head for miles. 

 Driving home from the airport, we passed a 32-foot, fifth-wheel trailer being pulled by a Ford 350;  a house on wheels used for vacationing, probably for two people. That house could fit 12 families in Kenya. 

It is amazing what we can do without. We are all human beings...how can our experience of life be so opposite yet so much the same?

Knapton training teachers in Kenya

As an educational leader, I knew my leadership skills would be put to the test..and I passed with flying colors.  

This was a big challenge and I learned so much from these people. I was successful in developing procedures and forms describing referral and assessment for students with special needs. Then I held 23 teacher, parent, and student trainings to inform all stakeholders of the new system.  The remainder of my time was dedicated to job embedded professional  development of their first special needs educator. 

In Kenya, some teachers actually have been studying special needs in college but the K-12 school systems do not yet know how to use these teachers.
I was truly implementing a cutting edge system...and it is evolving. The new resource room was being painted as my plane lifted off.
I learned that leadership matters.  At any level, the leader  truly is the key to success.  A good leader is rarely seen. A servant leader stays in the pack with all their colleagues, as the pack moves toward their vision and aspirations.  

At times, the leader needs to put forth a new idea, get stakeholder buy in and move the system forward. That is what I was able to do in a third world country; and I was successful. 

Another lesson I learned was sustainability is key. A good leader puts columns in place to sustain the implemented changes.  
In Africa, whenever I trained, or developed forms, or devised procedures, I had a Kenyan take the lead on the action because I knew I would not be there forever and I needed to know someone else could carry the torch. 

I learned that no matter what I did do, I am not indispensable.  Any job I have, I know I can be replaced. When a leader thinks they are indispensable, that is when they will start to crumble.  Leaders should never believe they are indispensable.  We are all replaceable.  However, some leaders are more successful than others; I will always give 110 percent at my job.
  Clearly, excellent leaders have earned their status by producing successful outcomes.

I thank all of you for your continued support while I was away. And I thank you for continuing to read my weekly column. If you pass me on the street, stop and say hello. I would be happy to share my experiences in more detail.

  Now to start a new adventure, another school year in Derby. I am sure it will not be without its challenges, but I am also sure of another thing, I am a different person.

 I am confident in my leadership abilities, I have softened my views on what I "need" versus what I "want"; my outlook on life has changed dramatically.

             
"Don't sweat the small stuff, and it's all small stuff." 

Here I come Derby.

Educator learns one person can make a difference

Knapton

By Lois Knapton
Director, Special Education
Derby Public Schools

What can one person really do?
I have come to believe that one person can truly transform lives forever.

Remember Moses?  Well, I had the pleasure of visiting him again this week. He is a totally different child.

When we first met six weeks ago, he had been home-bound and in bed for 10  years, only crawling out to sit on the couch to eat his porridge; he is 14.

The mother did everything for him. She did not think Moses could learn anything. She also thought he was deaf.
With prompting and some physical assistance, he miraculously started walking on his own.

And that was only the beginning.
When we visited this week, Mary, the mother  said, that since we came last, he has grown so much and he is a completely different child now.
Both she and Moses are changed people forever. His bed sores are gone and he plays outside with his siblings, he is making noises now trying to talk, he is starting to communicate with his mom when he needs to go the bathroom...he can hold his own spoon...and he ran across the play area today. It is truly amazing to watch this continued transformation of lives.









Let's talk about Laveenda, she is the 12-year old girl the mother was carrying on her hip as we walked to her house. She spends most of the day in her bed.
 That day, six weeks ago, the mother was desperate for help, she was anxious and depressed, in total despair and feeling hopeless. 


Her family, including her husband,  has shunned her because her tribe does not accept such children, so the single mother had to find a separate house for the child to sleep in, alone.
The mother comes to visit her child four times per day to make sure she is safe.

The day we visited six weeks ago, the child was non-responsive, nearly falling asleep sitting up.
I was heartbroken. What could I possible do for them?

We talked. I talked about the fact that is is OK to have a child with a disability, it is not a curse, and that the child can learn.
I encouraged the mother to continue loving her child, despite the disabling condition. I told the mom to get the child outside, take her for walks. The child had scoliosis and can only walk for 50 feet or so.
We prayed for her and her family. Then we left. This past week, as we visited her again, the mother told us she was filled with hope. She mother had moved her child again to a new room, still alone, but closer to the mom. 


The child was sitting up and at times, tried to communicate with the mother.
I commended the mother on her obvious unconditional love for her child. She told us that since our last visit, she has been filled with  renewed hope and things have gotten much better for all of them.  It is still very hard, but at least it is better. I was amazed.

I was wondering, what did I really do? Then I realized I had accomplished exactly what I had set out to do in the beginning of all of this, instill hope and knowledge to parents and children with disabilities.







Then there is John Kiamani, an adult who suffered an accident two years ago, and is paralyzed from the waist down.
Again, on our first visit, weeks ago, I felt helpless.

What can I offer him? My knowledge on paralysis is minimal, and I could see no way for him to be productive in these slum conditions.
He would never be able to get out of his house. I was having limited thinking. The team of people encouraged him to be faithful in his walk. I told him God has big plans for him.

This week was our third visit to his house, and every time we visit, he encourages us, he greets us with a smile, and he prays for us and with tears in his eyes, he told me he is filled with hope since we first visited him; when he saw me come back to his house for third time, he felt truly blessed and encouraged. He said he is feeling stronger and better. And he is trying to think of a way he can be productive in society.

His wife works and he makes lunch every day for his two children, from his bed....life is hard here.
Every Sunday, his friends carry him to to the road and they put him on a Boda Boda (motorbike) sandwiched between two of them and take the long journey out to his church.
You can imagine how risky it is to ride a motorbike, on these Kenyan roads, when you have no feeling in your legs at all. Even balancing is a struggle. But they make it. Every Sunday.  
  

Back at the main office, as we were taking Chai, I was talking to Isabella, still in wonderment about what these people had said; and that their lives truly have been transformed and hope instilled.
Life is hard enough for able-bodied people and hundreds of times harder for people with disabilities. These people persevere through many hardships. I can see the hope in their eyes and smiles, they are truly grateful.

As my doubts attempt to creep in, Isabella replies, "We give them hope and prayer. Now do you believe one person can make a difference?"

Editor's note: Knapton is on a three-month mission working with special needs students and their parents in Nairobi, Kenya. She is sharing her experiences here each week.

Educator survives scare in slums of Nairobi

By Lois Knapton

Director, Special Education

Derby Public Schools

Violated…violated…

Well, it finally happened. 

Let me preface it with I am unharmed and safe, in my temporary home in Africa.  

I have been in Nairobi for two months, and I venture out into the slums at least three times per week, we often need to wait on the side of the street to “jump” on a Matatu, to get to the next school.

 I am careful, always with one to three Kenyans, my hands are empty, my cell phone is hidden deep in my pocket, no purse, no handbag, we walk with a purpose, steadily, and quickly, watching all around us. But today was different.

            

           I and one other Kenyan staff slowly walked toward the main road to wait for our Matatu. It is a very busy place. Many people were roaming around, some waiting for the bus, some getting on or off, vendors selling their items, glue-sniffing people begging for food, homeless kids wandering around, and Matatus picking up and dropping people off, slowing down and speeding up. 

        I am used to many eyes watching me. 

        But today, I could see a young man eyeing me in a different way.  It seemed like he wanted to see what he could steal. I laid my arm over my pocket where my cell phone was tightly tucked away and crossed my hands in front of me. I turned away as he brushed past my shoulder. 

       The Kenyan staff was very keen on him to. We waited. Trying to stay calm and brave is a very difficult thing to do when you are raked with fear.
       So many things could happen out here. We had placed ourselves so only one side of me was open to the street. As I was convincing myself everything was OK, suddenly from behind my left shoulder, a right hand whipped in front of my face, grabbing the necklace I was wearing around my neck. 

      He yanked hard, the necklace broke free from my neck, and the two thugs calmly walked away, looking back over their shoulder as if to say, “Ha, we did it”… they were arrogant and defiant.

 I was stunned.  I just stood there, like a statue, watching them walk away, I wanted to run after them and start screaming, but I simply turned to look at everyone else who saw it, no one moved or spoke. The Kenyan staff with me was devastated.  She apologized and I said it was not her fault. We walked back and waited for our friend. They spoke in Kswahli.  They were very sorry it happened.

     Then, as if nothing had happened, we went right back the same spot, to get on a Matatu, to go to the staff training we had scheduled for the day.  As I rode that Matatu, my bravery suddenly turned to cowardess and I could feel the tears swelling up in my eyes. I felt so violated, my neck felt like it was scratched. I saw the whole thing happen again and again, they were so fast. So direct. So deliberate. Kenyans truly believe that all Americans have lots of money.  It could have been worse, they could have pushed me down, emptied my pockets, stole my shoes and anything else that is removable.  It was just a necklace, but that was not the point.

            Then my mind started racing, as tears slowly rolled down my cheeks
           What in the world am I doing here; living in a culture that struggles to survive on a daily basis, walking through areas where homeless children roam aimlessly for years, until they start sniffing glue to numb the pain, babies cry out for the mother they do not have, children play in the black sewer water that runs down the middle of the area, pregnant woman carry huge loads on their head or buckets of water, vendors sell food with flies buzzing around, people are starving, sick, begging, dying, daily. 

           And I think one lone soul can make a difference.

           At first thought, I said maybe I should give up and go home early.  Just get on an airplane and leave all this behind. I have done all I could do here.
          But then that small, quiet voice spoke to me, always so calm and convincing; you know what, I am making a difference, and I will persevere through this. 

In every success, there are stumbling blocks, and hurdles we must jump.  Nothing is ever easy, trials and tribulations are the joy of living, just think if everything was easy, no problems, no worries; life would be so boring. 

 But when I am in the middle of a life-lesson trial, it feels so difficult.  But in the end, I come out fighting, feeling strong and courageous again, ready to conquer the world and continue my mission.

Epilogue:  Two days later, the Executive Director called me down to the front office of the main building we work out of. He wanted to see me immediately. As I walked toward his office, my mind was racing; what had I done wrong, did I say something wrong in the teacher trainings, were they going to send me home, was I pushing too hard for a Resource Room? Why on earth would they want to speak to me? God only knew.

     I entered and sat down, while three people stared at me. I was so nervous. Then he pointed to his desk so I would look down, “Is that yours?”

 There was my necklace, the one that had been ripped off my neck two days ago, in the slums….I could not decipher my emotions…I was in awe. He asked me to look closely; he wanted to give me plenty of time, to see if it truly was my necklace.

 It was, and it was not broken. Then one of them made a phone call to let someone know it was my necklace and everyone rejoiced. The necklace had been sold and was retrieved. 

The details of the return will remain undisclosed, but I will tell you it is extremely rare for stolen items to be returned.  This truly was another miracle. 

Sunrise in Kenya

Editor's note: Knapton is on a three-month mission working with special needs students and their parents in Nairobi, Kenya. She is sharing her experiences here each week.

Closing the circle is vital, educator says

Helping needy, learning to drive all part of her journey in Kenya


By Lois Knapton

Special Education Director

Derby Public Schools

My new motto this year is Close the Circle, that means whatever I start, I need to assure that it gets finished, checking with everyone involved until the very end.  

So here in Kenya, we met a parent and her child has clubfoot.

She did not know what to do. We referred her to the clinic, we assured she went to her appointment, and now her son is being treated for free. His clubfoot surgery went well.  

Here he is with his casts on: 

They will stay on for two months, then he will wear foot braces. 

Below is a second child we are working with. He is done with his surgery and now in phase II. He will wear these foot braces for two to three years at night.

They will stay on for two months, then he will wear foot braces.

        Another story: When we met Nicole, she was constantly crying;  her mother said she never stops crying and it has lasted four years.

       The mother continually tries to console her daughter. As I looked at the child, I felt she was having ear problems. 

       We told the mother to bring her child to the clinic. One of the teams was holding a free medical clinic that week at the school. The mother followed through and brought her child to the clinic. The mother was given ear medicine. 

       We told her we would be back to assess after the medication was finished. Ten days later, guess what? Nicole's ears cleared up, she can hear now and she has stopped crying. The mother was amazed and so happy. 

     And the stories go on and on...

    Another success story: I met my sponsor child and her family again this year..."By small and simple things are great things brought to pass." Alma 37:6.
    And another success story: I took up driving in Kenya. Wow, what an experience. 

     The steering wheel is on the right-hand side of the car and you drive on the left hand side of the road. Thankfully, the gas pedal is still on the right and the brake pedal is still on the left. With all the Matatu's and crazy drivers, I really need to concentrate. But I just had to learn. Just to say I did it!!!
     Also, I attended a pre-wedding ceremony on Sunday. It was a fund raiser for someone's wedding. The funny thing was they auctioned off these chickens, and some eggs, and an umbrella. 

    I am definitely in Africa.
           
   Life in the slums is difficult, but they do not know any other way. So you wake up in the morning, and go to work if you have a job, otherwise, you sell your goods on the road, or beg, or steal, and do your laundry, next to the sewer that runs through the slums; hang it out to dry and go find food.  

      I am honored to be here serving for God. "The course of our lives is seldom determined by great, life-altering decisions. Our direction is often set by small, day-to-day choices that chart the track on which we run. This is the substance of our lives - making choices." ( Stand a Little Taller, 2001).  
 

      I will close this circle and leave behind a sustainable special education referral, assessment, and support system for this school and community. 

     I have four more weeks to finish the task.

     I guess I will have to come back to see the fruits of my labor blossom and change lives forever.

     I haven't even left and already I am thinking of coming back. But that is how it goes.       

Editor's note: Knapton is spending three months working in Kenya and is sharing her experiences here each week.   
 

Educator feels 'fully integrated' into Kenyan lifestyle

By Lois Knapton

Lois Knapton

Director, Special Education          
Derby Public Schools

While all of you are roasting in 90-degree weather, I am sitting in 55 degrees at night and sometimes 70 during the day.

It seems odd that I am just skipping summer all together.
My seasonal clock is a little tipped… some of the things I miss are   camping, watching the campfire burn, eating s'mores, looking at the stars and full moon, swimming, boating and kayaking, lounging by the pool, and especially ice cream cones, bummer…


But it is OK, because I am truly making a difference in many lives and I am sure I will have plenty of summers to enjoy in the future.
And I really hate the heat anyway. At least I will not have to pay an air conditioner bill!

The other day, as I wound around the unpaved, side roads of Kenya, on a six-hour journey going to safari, I sat in the back seat of a beat up old van, jostling up and down as we navigate our way over the speed bumps and around the many potholes (nothing compares to them in America), donkey carts, mattatus, motor bikes, and people, I wondered what it would feel like to drive again. What if I forget?  And I am kind of getting used to driving on the left side of the roads.

Baboon walking along the road.

But I did have a scary experience last week: I almost got mugged by slum thugs. We were walking through a slum on our way to visit a child at a school.  The day had started with the matuttu driver charging us double the fare because of the white girl. He drove off with our change.

There were three of us, Isabella, Anne, and myself. These girls are tiny little girls, size 0 or one. The road was muddy so we were forced to walk single file. We got separated and I was a bit nervous. But God always has a plan.  Isabella was four people ahead of us.  She is alert, and always paying attention to her surroundings.
 She heard two guys saying, “Let’s attack this musungo, I will take her earrings, you get the necklace, and I will try to get the shoulder bag”…. so Isabella waited for me to catch up then she pushed me in the opposite direction, through the muddy street, and said, "Go that way," and off I went, followed by Anne, as Isabella yelled at the men.
By the way, the earrings, were simple costume jewelry and the necklace was a African one I bought for $200 shillings, or about $2.37.
The hand bag was a small cloth bag wrapped around my shoulder.  After we were safely out of harm's away, we were all clearly a bit shaken, but we found a friendly vendor to sit by and collect our wits.
This kind of thing happens in many cities, not just Kenya…but the color of my skin really makes me a target over here.   

 If you have ever been part of implementing sustainable, systematic change, you know that on a daily basis, it just feels like another day.
We need to get done what we planned to get done for the day.
But over time, when you look back over the road, you say, "Wow, how did we get here already?”  The change process is a funny thing. Do not ever doubt yourself.
I had vision over a year ago and I felt a strong need to pursue it. I just felt like I had something to offer, I could develop a system of referral, assessment and supports for children with special needs, in a country where there is none.
And look at me. I never dreamed in a thousand years I would be here in Kenya, doing this. Never doubt yourself. If you believe something, especially if it comes to you in prayer, sit up and listen, reflect and see what it might mean for you. Too often, we are too busy to listen. Be still.  I have learned that over the last seven weeks.

A Masai Warrior who worked at the Leisure Camp we stayed  at for Safari.

         Anyway,  I am half-way through my time here in Kenya, and my emotions are mixed, part of me keeps pulling my mind to Kenya and their continuous needs and the other part of me is starting to emotionally prepare for my departure.
         I am totally integrated into the Kenyan lifestyle and these people are so gracious, loving, and protective.
       It feels like they would lay down their life for me, they are that loving.
      And it is genuine.
      The thought of integrating back into America with its culture is already scaring me. I will never be the same person as the one that left in May.


Editor's note: Knapton is on a three-month mission to Kenya. She is writing about her experiences here each week.

Derby educator admires perseverance of Kenyan people

Drawing strength from those who have so little 

By Lois Knapton
Director, Special Education
Derby Public Schools

Knapton

 
 When you don't have what you want, you have to want what you have (2009, Jody Picoult, Handle with Care).

After much deep reflection, I am ready to continue my work here in Missions of Hope.
Every now and then, it is important to take a step back, and assess how am I feeling. And it is also important to deal with those feelings..
I was feeling a bit overwhelmed, worn out, dismayed, helpless, and not sure of next steps.
Anyone would feel this way given what I see and experience on a daily basis.
But I was rejuvenated today, after visiting one of the most affluent hospitals in Kenya, Gertrude's Children's Hospital.
While talking to the occupational therapist, a vision flashed before my eyes. It was a picture of the MOHI Resource Room and how successful it will be in two years.
The OT said she wanted to come see the resource room when it gets up and running. What we are building does not exist anywhere in Kenya.
Kenyans will flock here for special education assessments and educational therapy. Colleges will want to send their students here for practicums. It is happening. This is HUGE.

And it is coming...Ephesians 3:20: "Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us."
It is crazy, this burst of confidence and strength I have gained. I changed my lenses, I filter the information differently now. It is OK to wonder and worry a little about these children and families, but it is not OK to think I can fix it all.
And I am growing so close to these people. One of them even said I look different now, not the same as when I started here...I look Kenyan...except I am still white..haha.
  

I am amazed, on a daily basis, when I see what one can do without. Above is a picture of the slums and a broken bridge. The village people were still using the bridge.

And check out these little faces..they came in for assessment. Many children wear these hats, as it is their winter here, but temperatures stay in the 60s and 70s.



           There are so many struggles here, but they persevere. There are no baby bottles here, disposable diapers are a luxury, foster care does not exist, corruption abounds, you may see a herd of cattle cross a three-lane highway, a monkey run behind the house, a lizard crawling on the wall of the bedroom eating mosquitoes, three people, including a woman who is dressed for church, riding on a motorbike or a regular bike for that matter, a donkey pulling a cart down the street.
      I saw a tractor trailer, with a bulldozer on the back, and two men riding on the bed of the trailer on the tracks of the bulldozer, make a U-turn on the highway; a truck overflowing with furniture you are sure it is all going to tumble off at any second; a child delighting in pushing a cardboard box around the dirt street or playing in the sewer water; young homeless boys roaming the streets in clothes they have been wearing for months; glue sniffing children lying in piles of garbage; cats roaming around inside the restaurant where you are eating dinner; vendors selling food items covered with flies; men working in construction with shoes that are falling apart, hanging together by threads, with their toes sticking out, while they straighten nails and hand carry five-gallon buckets of sand and rocks to the site where they are hand-mixing cement and mortar, mothers balancing huge loads on their head and babies on their backs, tied on with shawls, people carrying 20-liter jugs tied on their back using a shawl wrapped around their forehead.
These sights are an everyday occurrence.

But their progress is amazing. The super highway is very busy.  People do get out of the slums and live productive lives. Their determination is commendable. Their faith is extraordinary, and it is genuine. I can learn a lot from these people.
Thank you, Lord for blessing my life with this experience.


Editor's note: Knapton is on a three-month mission to Kenya. She is sharing her experiences here each week.

Derby special ed director assesses Kenyan students' needs

Training teachers, parents to work together 

By Lois Knapton
Director, Special Education
Derby Public Schools

 

Well, I have been here for 31 days and I have 57 more to go. 

Whew…so what have I accomplished in just four weeks?  Let's see, first I gathered data, talked to staff, and observed their current state of education. 

Then I proceeded to write a referral and assessment process that included holding one or two team meetings. They do lots of teacher training on various topics but they do not often talk about the children.  

So, I said it will be a 15-20 minute meeting with all the right people at the table, including the parent. This is also a foreign concept to them. 

 If the child requires assessment, I developed an informal assessment protocol and taught this protocol to five Kenyan teachers, all of whom have attended some Special Education courses at the nearby Kenyan Institute of Special Education. 

We are using simple tools from the classroom that visiting schools have left for the classroom teachers in Kenya.
Our new assessment team tirelessly assessed 122 children in the last week, applying labels where necessary.

Students with whom Knapton has been working.

Knapton, right, does an assessment with a Kenyan child. 

        The process ends with eight categories of identification: autism, developmental delay, hearing impairment, visual impairment, deaf and/or blind, physical disabilities (includes epileptic, asthma, crutches, etc), learning difficulty, and mentally challenged.
       Missing from the list is the category of emotional disability and ADHD.  

       These two categories will be too difficult to discern due to the culture these people live in. At the end of the referral process, if the student gets identified, the team will write a Student Success Plan (this is the substitute for an Individualized Education Plan) which includes two to three goals for this individual child. 

        No other school in Kenya is implementing a continuous process like this.
        American educators might be saying how can you do this without the use of standardized assessments.
      And I say, we have to start somewhere. There is no such thing as a standardized assessment in Africa.

Assessment team works with young children.

            My next steps include sharing our findings with school leadership, and discussing opening up a Resource Room so these children can be helped and the teachers can be supported. 

         July will be dedicated to parent training, administrative training and training of the teachers. All the stakeholders need to understand the system and why it is being put in place. 

           Then the head teachers can assure fidelity of implementation of the system. 

            It is surely archaic, but where there was nothing, there is something. 

            Now if we only had a Resource Room teacher ... and on I go ...


Editor's note: Knapton is on a three-month mission trip to Kenya. She is sharing her experiences here in weekly posts.

Derby educator reports from her mission in Kenya

Learning to embrace a simpler lifestyle

So, what is life really like in Africa?

OK. Well, I am fully integrated now.
Just imagine, getting up in the morning and hearing Swahili spoken by everyone around you.

There is just an occasional word or two spoken in English.

Breakfast is on the table, usually bread of some sort, warm milk and wheat bars, chai, and juice.

I have long forgotten about my morning iced tea from Dunkin' Donuts or McDonald's....hop in the minivan for a bumpy, windy drive to work.
I never know who will be riding with me, but it is someone different everyday,  as this house is a boarding house for all sorts of missionaries, doing all sorts of  short term work.
Mattastus are the main public transport, and after I arrive at work, I hop on one of those and head to one of the 14 schools, with two of the social workers; that is an experience all to itself.

So far no cooking, no cleaning, and no driving; pretty good!
Work is challenging because I am trying to develop a sustainable infrastructure for referring and assessing students with special needs...but I have needs too, like toileting..let's talk....the kids have their own toilet, faculty has one and then there is the luxury home toilet.

The student toilet

The shower head doubles as an individual hot water heater. They really are quite inventive and creative when it comes to comfort. 
On the way to work, there are people walking everywhere, and constant construction.
Power tools are a luxury, so everything is done by manual labor, using rocks and sand and hand churned cement in five-gallon buckets.

The faculty and most homes have toilets like this.

 

I'm so happy this is my bathroom.

You would be amazed what you can do without.

Speaking of doing without, all the laundry is done by hand and cotton takes two to three days to dry, so I have to plan ahead about my clothing. Who knew?

So, all day people are still only talking in Swahili, most of the time I have no idea what they are saying.
Words are over-rated. TV shows are full of dubbed soap operas or news channels.
I miss my music and my hugs. This is a culture where everyone is greeted with a hand shake and an occasional cheek to cheek touch if you know the person well.

There are absolutely no signs of physical affection anywhere in public or the home.
There is no "fluffiness" here, no coddling, no cuddling, no hugging...they are hard-working, no nonsense people and very soft spoken.
I have yet to hear anyone raise their voice.
Just imagine....even I am noticing how loud Americans are, when they come to visit.
Don't get me wrong, this is culture full of joy and unwavering faith and enduring love for the Lord.
We do laugh a lot.

I am learning so much from their simpleness.
They are just fine the way they are, and it kind of grows on you: hard work, quiet, laid back, no worries, fun, laughing, and lots of chai and waiting. No expectations.

What could be better?


Lois Knapton, Director of Special Education for Derby Public Schools, is spending three months on a mission working with students and parents in Kenya. This is her weekly report.  

Educator describes meeting 'miracle' teen

By Lois Knapton
Director, Special Education
Derby Public Schools


Whew, what a week.
Part of the development of a new disability education program is outreach to parents, so we did one impromptu session last week on Friday.
We let the parents know that is ok if you have a child with a disability, and you can contact the CHE (Community Health Evangelism) disability worker in your school to get some help.

Lois Knapton

As an outsider, I use the current resources they have here, and I do not include myself in any of the sustainable systematic changes I am trying to develop.
After our outreach meeting, a mother came to the school and said she has a son who needs help. In this culture, this is brave step for her to take. So, on Monday morning we were led by the mother, through the Huruma  slums, to her house.

This is what I can only describe as the Miracle of Moses: His mother explained that Moses is 16 and cannot do anything by himself. He is deaf, he does not speak, and has been in the house for 10 years and bedridden most of the time.


 When we got inside the house we noticed a lump on the bed, covered by a blanket. Our team included me, with two social workers, Isabella and Margaret, and an occupational therapist, Mitch, and a physical therapy assistant, Michelle (how convenient) and kinesiology graduate named Laura, from the Flip-side church in California; they were here on a short-term mission trip for one week.

We started asking questions of the mom, then we decided it was time to see Moses. The mother woke him and dragged him over the back of the couch. I immediately noticed Moses climbed over the couch and landed in a sitting position on the couch.
He was clearly startled and confused, but alert. We talked and assessed him, the OT and PT tried to stand him up and take a few steps supporting him. Moses tolerated it.
We thought that was a miracle.
But there is more...Mom said she needed help for his skin and we told her to bring him to the clinic, a 10-minute walk; she said it was impossible.
We left and told her we would try to bring a nurse back with us the next day.

       As the team was eating lunch at the school and preparing for afternoon community work, the mom shows up at the clinic with Moses on the back of a bike.
I can only assume that she felt some hope and gained some courage to get more help for her and her son.
The  team members who visited him in the a.m. were in tears. We could not believe our eyes - she brought him to the clinic.

Then, as I was sitting near Moses, I saw his eyes start to track, and he found Laura, the redheaded student.  And then, he simply stood up, walked over to her and sat down. It was a 25-foot span. No one said a word.  If I had not witnessed it  with my own eyes, I never could have believed where this child was functioning in the a.m and where he was now.
           We visited Moses every day this week, and every day he improves. It is not easy, we spend a lot of time teaching mom techniques to teach her son.
 On Thursday his mom turned to me and said, "So he can learn?"  I said, "Yes, absolutely."
We are teaching him to put on his shoes and on Thursday he held a spoon and fed himself for the first time.

 
      His mom is learning very quickly how to teach Moses. She has two other younger children and I explained to her it is like teaching an 18 -month old how to do things.
I believe Moses will continue to make great strides.
In addition to visiting Moses, we saw nine other new clients this week in the community.
The word is quickly spreading throughout the  village that you can get help for your children who are disabled.
        Next week, I will work with Isabella and Margaret to train some teachers to do informal assessments to see which students need extra help to be successful in school.

We will also be doing teacher training to help the teachers understand that all children can learn.
We certainly have our work cut out for us.
Thank you for joining me on my journey. I am sure there are many more miracles awaiting.

Knapton is contributing weekly posts about her three-month mission trip to Nairobi, Kenya.   

Derby educator reports from Kenya

By Lois Knapton
Director, Special Education
Derby Public Schools

Lois Knapton

   Wow, imagine, a little over one week ago, I was driving to the airport, with feelings of excitement, doubt, fear, and utter astonishment that it was actually happening.
Life is funny, I start with enough doubt and wonderment to push me forward, then I get rejuvenated  with enough courage to conquer the world...and up and down the roller coaster I go.

In those times of deepest doubt, when tears start to swell up in my eyes, and I wonder what in the world can I do for these people, I breathe deeply and quiet my mind.
The answer is always the same: HOPE.

    

      This mother's story (pictured at right) is incredibly sad. I sat with her in her slum shack while she told me her story.
     Her husband left her again, after she got pregnant, and he married another; she earns money by walking two kilometers, to carry water (a five-gallon container) back to the neighbors, who pay her five shillings, the equivalent of .06 cents, for each trip she makes.
She can make up to 20 shillings per day, .24 cents.  She and her children have gone as many as three days without food or water. When we visit, we give counsel, advice, and prayer. And then we go to the next slum shack.


        

 

  One of the other children, pictured below,  fell off her mother's back while her mother was running away from her attackers during the political unrest a few years ago here in Kenya.
   Susie has never been the same. She has trouble walking, she does not speak, and her memory is very poor.
   She cannot attend school because she cannot use the bathroom on her own.

  

Here she is with social worker Isabella, a Godsend for the Mathare Valley.

      But, in one week's time I have developed procedures for referral of students with learning difficulties, spoken to the educational leaders, and met with a large group of parents in one of the Center schools, to discuss why I am here.
    During that meeting, a parent stood up, speaking in Swahili and being translated for me. He said his daughter has special needs and he wanted to know who he should talk to.
     The school staff answered his question.
       This is a HUGE step in this culture, as many parents are shunned for having children with disabilities. This time my tears were tears of HOPE.
     This week we are off to do assessments of various students in some of the 14 centers now up and running.

Lois Knapton is spending three months working with educators and parents in Nairobi, Kenya. She will be filing weekly reports from there.

Derby educator files first post from Kenya

May 29, 2012

By Lois Knapton

Director, Special Education

Derby Public Schools

Knapton

OK, so I feel like I am trying to make chocolate chip cookies by starting with grinding the flour.

I have been in Nairobi for four days, two at work. 
Talk about a culture shock….not to mention the large monkey running along the stonewall outside the house.
I am so glad I do not have to cook or clean, but that means I eat what is offered. Breakfast was bread, peanut butter, (but nothing like peanut butter from America), bananas, hot milk, and ground meal.
Lunch was kale, ugali (a mix between rice and mashed potatoes, but very thick) and mystery meat stew with potatoes. Dinner was ugali, kale, rice, and fish.

Thankfully, I am rationing my chocolate!
So back to the chocolate chip cookies: I am working with a social worker over here trying to develop a sustainable system of referral and assessment for students with special needs.

With no laws to guide the process, I am pulling from American federal laws, IDEA, and my background in special education, to shape this Kenyan system.
Let’s see what day three brings!

Note: Knapton left Friday for a three-month mission to Kenya, where she will be working at a private school to help develop a system to assess special needs students. She plans to contribute updates about her experiences on a regular basis.