Berkley Center

This past November I led a service-learning committee for my study abroad program, not having a clue what the term “service-learning” meant. Over the course of three weeks, I helped design, oversee, and implement a service project for a Jordanian charter school called Al Ruhail Basic Mixed School located in Zarqa, a rural town outside of Amman. Prior to undertaking the project, I had the opportunity to visit the school to meet with the local students and faculty members to evaluate the school’s needs and priorities for the project.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I witnessed that day. I immediately noticed dozens of children yelling and running around the school’s courtyard (if you can call a dirty square slab of tile a courtyard). Though such behavior might be expected of typical elementary school students, I did not expect to see so many students severely malnourished, with scratches on their faces, crooked teeth, and noticeably thinner statures. While several of us entered the principal’s office, a couple project coordinators waited outside in the courtyard to observe the students; the least disruptive children would later become their class representatives and assist us with the project on weekends. Much to my disappointment, three months of studying the Jordanian dialect did not prepare me to effectively communicate with the school’s principal or the class representatives, so our communication depended on my gesticulations and approximate translations provided by our Jordanian study abroad administrators.

Following the meeting in the principal’s office, all the project coordinators toured the school. As a charter school with very few resources, the Al Ruhail Basic Mixed School had cramped 200 students aged 6 to 12 into eight tiny dilapidated classrooms. In addition to the clear lack of space, classroom conditions left much to be desired. Unusable chalkboards, splintery wooden desks and chairs, jammed windows, broken doors, and lack of storage for teaching materials presented a seriously bleak and impractical learning environment. Despite their misfortunes, I was incredibly impressed by the level of enthusiasm and curiosity displayed by all the students in each class we toured. By the end of our initial visit, I headed back to Amman feeling partially shocked, disheartened, and very humbled.

Despite the language barrier, I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know the class representatives. One girl, Mariam, particularly impressed me. The unanimously elected class representative and oldest girl at Al Ruhail, Mariam ironically stood at a whopping 3 1/2 feet or so and was the smallest girl in school. Though her favorite color was lavender, she voiced everyone's preferences for paint colors equally. True to her word, she came every Saturday to see the project through. Whether standing on a rickety chair to touch-up paint on the ceilings or helping me scrape bird feces off the windows, she worked industriously to make improvements to her school. Her persistence was absolutely astounding.

With only three weekends for the project, I had to accept that my work would have little long-term impact on the children’s education. Our service-learning committee was essentially a beautification project. By the end of the month we had painted the entire exterior and interior of the school, added a new classroom, repaired most of the class furniture, installed storage units, cleaned the windows, and transformed the courtyard into a playground. Though I am confident those changes created a more positive learning environment for the students, I realized their prospects for receiving the same career-oriented and rigorous education I have benefited from remained dim. Paradoxically, children like Mariam imparted more “learning” onto me than I could ever reciprocate with my “service.” I remain deeply humbled and grateful for the opportunity to have met them.