Oct.7.2016
After breakfast , we headed to a school for Syrian refugee children in Beirut. A humble building with a 2-3 indoor classrooms and an outdoor area used for break-time and PE. In order to maximize on the limited space, the school operated in shifts.The children who came in the morning shift were different from those that came in the afternoon.They each attended school for 4 hours a day.
Upon arriving at the school and while waiting for the admin to show us in, one of my team members found a children’s story book written in Arabic and asked me to translate it. I had never seen a children’s story book like this one before. The words and illustrations were of bombs, soldiers, underground hide-outs, and power outages. The book reflected a children’s version of the Lebanese 15 year civil war .
The back-ground or so called “play ground” was set in an outdoor open space intimately surrounded by apartment buildings with small balconies so that those who lived in the apartments could and did poke their head out to see what the commotion below was all about. Some of the old building walls surrounding the play ground were dotted with bullet holes, not an uncommon sight in Beirut.
As the students trickled in they were disorganized, chaotic, and deaf to instructions. I found myself turning into a policewoman, standing larger, and raising my voice. Initially, it was impossible to play with the children as the team was basically breaking up fights instead and policing kids into order. The scene consisted of girls & boys of different ages running around hitting each other, kicking, pushing, and hair pulling . Every corner you looked some form of aggression was taking place. Boys were hitting girls, larger kids shoving the smaller ones, girls pulling each others hair and fighting with boys. When it was time to line up to go back to class, the teachers were being ignored and a lot of arguing and lingering around was flaming the fire even further. Fred said there was more aggression at this school than he had seen in a prison!
As the first group of kids left for the day and we recognized the new the kind of challenge on our hands this afternoon, I looked at Fred and thought to myself, “Where do we start?”. There was a serious behavior management issue and the teachers had little control over the students. As if Fred heard my panicked thoughts, he used his firmest and calmest voice to tell the team to pack up the mats and leave no trace of our presence for the second group of children.
While having a short break and recharging for the next round, the team had the chance to sit with the principal and ask for some background on the kids. She said that most lived in a very confined space, sharing a small room with 5 or 6 others. Some of these children, even though older, had never done any formal schooling before. Some as young as 9 were working as car mechanics to help the family make ends meet.
One of the school bullies (in the green and white t-shirt) lived in a room with 6 other brothers and their father. The father sometimes put him out to spend the night on the street as punishment for bad behavior. He was about 11 or 12, wearing a white and a green striped t-shirt, and usually seen hitting and displaying territorial behavior around the play-ground . When it was time to play with the older boys, him and another verbally and physically aggressive boy were not listening and endlessly arguing with their teacher. One of them was shouting out curses and having a teenage temper tantrum. Fred used his firmest and calmest voice. They could either go back to class or play according to set boundaries. He repeated and I translated, we would not carry on until they made a decision.
To everyone’s surprise the boy with the green and white t-shirt decided to join us at the mats. He played. He respected our rules. When it was time for the inquiry, I asked:
- Did we hit you? (no)
- Did we kick you? (no)
- Did we hurt you? (no)
That is true play. We sometimes forget. Therefore, we need to remind ourselves, our friends, our parents & siblings, and our teachers that anything hurtful is not play. We must speak up for ourselves and others and say stop it!
The tough boy’s facial expression had softened and he shared with us that his father and brothers hit him and would do not listen to him.
I have to point out that he not only opened up to play but he also felt safe enough- in the play space- to express the truth of his harsh reality. After 20 minutes of Original Play, this bully had the willingness to share and be vulnerable in front of a group of strangers. He exchanged hand-shakes and manly hugs with the male members of the team. Wow, what a real transformation! I was so happy I witnessed that 🙂
I need to stress that some children who experience any kind of trauma or aggression in their daily life, may require a longer time to reach that stage of engagement, connection, and being emotionally open.
A change in facial expression. A response to a look. A loosened grip. A less guarded posture. The telling of one’s story. I understood what Fred had meant when he told us to look out for the small changes.
Rawan
reflectionsofarecreationaltherapist.com 