The People in the Middle by Storey Martin

The People in the Middle 

Here we are with the faculty members that represented
the Thomas Jefferson School

Today, around the time we typically eat lunch at TJS, Leah and I embarked on a journey to experience a side of Chile that we had not yet encountered. Earlier in the week, I introduced myself to the special education teacher at TJS, Xiamena. We ended up having a fairly extended conversation about the implementation of special education at the TJS and some about our personal ideologies. She stressed that I was always welcome to come and visit her, and that she was very interested about further sharing ideas. I planned to spend the three days that my assigned teacher will be away with her class in the special education room with her, and, as far as I knew, I would see her again in a couple weeks. To my surprise, she approached me yesterday about accompanying her on a service project. The school had been collecting warm clothes and blankets for victims of the earthquake and Tsunami in 2010, and we would be personally delivering all of the supplies to them. I happily accepted the opportunity and requested that Leah join us. Today, at 1pm we set off in a 3-car caravan (all of which were packed to the gills with warm goodies). Needless to say, it was a priceless experience. I want to share this experience as vividly as I can... Here goes nothing!

Throughout this process I have been incredibly fortunate. The family hosting me has gone above and beyond to make me feel comfortable, and they have succeeded. Their home feels like a safe place to me, and functions like a bubble similarly to the way each of our homes do here. It is very easy to sit on the couch and forget that there is an entire world outside. That being said, the place that Leah and I had to opportunity to visit today will leave a lasting impression. I will not soon forget that it is out there. These families are described by a teacher from the TJS as "being stuck in the middle." They do not qualify for handouts, but they also do not have the means to personally start over. They have been living in these conditions since the February 2010 Tsunami following the earthquake, and will do so until December of next year.

This is the TJS Student Council Executive Board with
the lady of the house immediately following the delivery.

                                   

The brothers we delivered to and a friend from the community
played a quick pick up game with the TJS girls. 

On an almost daily basis here I find myself saying, "kids are kids." Today, in the most powerful way since I've arrived, that concept was reinforced. Amid their make-shift homes, a constant reminder of the tragedy their families suffered,  life goes on. Kids still play soccer, dogs still chase balls, and brothers still wrestle and argue.

"The sea gave us sadness, but it depends on us to let
the sun shine on our lives and our future."

The kids at the TJS have impressed me all week with their talents, but I never anticipated to find evidence of the same gifts during our journey today. In the distance, just beyond the row of homes, we found this mural which was painted by them. I could not help being enamored by the face value of the mural, but it was not until I had it translated that I shed my first tear in South America! 

Finally, Xiamena took us to see the ocean. We lingered and I just stared at the houses that were about 10 feet away from us. I started to wonder, why would anyone live here? Why do people build houses here? etc., and just as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I had overwhelming flashbacks of all of the horrible things that people said following Katrina. People that are not New Orleans natives had questions similar to the ones I had today. It is a rare occasion to have the chance to experience something so profound from two polar opposite perspectives.