A Gentle Accompaniment

The thoughts on instructing a group of children, noting the differences one made to the lives of these young people, translated…

I’d taken the liberty of the few days I have in Shanghai performing, I’d flown to Guangxi, to visit the children in the Wan-Yao tribe. I’d first met them in the summer of 2012, that year, I traveled with two other artists and writers, headed toward the Compassion Home by the foot of the hills, to start a two-week-long arts camp. The classes held at the camps had, inspired the children in photography, writing, and performance arts, there were, two children, San and Ping, who’d shown amazing creativities. In the mime classes, the two’s unique creativity of using their bodies, along with that comedian act, it’d made them into superstars in their hometowns. And still, after I’d returned back to Taiwan, I couldn’t help but wondered, for the children living in the distant mountains, being well-fed and dressed warmly enough, with a registry, being able to go to school, these are, the most pressing matter for them, and, what purpose does this, one-time art course have? Is it, for the sakes, of us, people from the big cities, we, who called ourselves, performance artists? And this doubt of mine, was resolved, in the process of contacting the volunteer instructors of the place.

not my photo…

“Since you’d left, Shan and Ping had, practiced every single day, one day, Ping ran to the kitchens, called out, I love practicing performing, it’d made us laugh so very hard.”, then, the volunteer instructor changed her tone of voice, “it’s true, teacher, I’d never seen them so very happy.”, and, because of this, the very next year, I’d returned, to Guangxi again, and in my month-long stay there, I’d used two hours every day, to lead these children into various types of performance methods, and encouraged them to put on the miming makeup, and followed me along, to perform all the way into town.

the writer of the article in one of his performances, photo from online…

But I’d quickly realized, that toward these groups of children, even volunteers who’d come and gone, the kids have it busier in their summer and winter vacations compared to their regular school sessions. Their English lessons, in the leaderships of different teams of teachers, still stayed at learning the twenty-six alphabets. And, although, there was a not-for-profit organization that managed to raise funds for the ukuleles for the music course, but after the teacher left, the instruments were never used again. I’d introspected that if I’m the same, along with what I’m here, to accomplish, each and every time? In the pressures of time, the heart at the beginning, may get twisted and bent out of shape, let alone, seeing the older people come and go, how much emotional detachment these kids must go through each and every single time? I’d taught, less and less classes, I’d just, lived, alongside them, then, at the right times, accompanied this group of children who’s interested in miming still, to create.

One day, I was, taking Mountain, who was already in the sixth grade home, in the backseat, he’d started talking to me about how his parents and older brother had died young, which caused his fears of death, and doubts toward his own life. I knew, that my accompaniment of this child had, gained the trust of this sensitive child, but, his truthfulness was, an unintentional “completion” on my part, that afterwards, there’s need of a lot of looking after this unintentional “completion.”

From Shanghai to Guangxi, after the hard ride, I’d finally, saw the kids at the entrance of their middle school. In these past five years, we’d, “completed”, a ton of things: this journey of one-month, a picture travel diary, their very first plane ride, a wall filled with the photos for the class projects, a documentary on mime………five years, the kids went from those upbeat, active fourth graders, and turned, into last year middle schoolers who are, in puberty and felt out of place. Shan had on a fashionable t-shirt, with the dyes from his own hairdyeing for the summers; Ping’s copper belt was, shiny, with the knock-off name brand. We hadn’t seen one another in just six months, and yet, they’d changed very much, it’d made me feel, quite unfamiliar, and I’d not known, where to put that arm that’s raised, to say hi. Shan came towards me, with that shy smile, without another word, found his way, inside of my half-raised arms, “Hi. Mr. Yao!”, the two of them greeted me; looking at them, I’d, cherished this affinity I had with them, and was also glad, that I’d chosen, to use this sort of a gentle, non-nagging way of accompanying them in life.

not my photo…

So, this, is noting the changes in the children you’d encountered, and, knowing, that you’d made a difference in their lives from your contacts shared with them, and knowing, that you will always have the ability, to exert your influences on these children, no matter how old they get, the rewards of being a teacher!