As a part of my final Europe/Middle East regional retreat with MCC, I was honored to give a reflection on the work I have done over the past three years. This will be an approximation of that reflection (you might notice that I borrow the end from a previous blog post...).
When I signed up for the SALT program, I chose a placement with the following job description: Interest in working with, and nurturing creativity in Deaf children and young people aged 4-20 years. Willingness to help with leisure time and playground supervision duties and teach English.
This is not what I've been doing the past three years.
After studying Arabic for my first month in Amman, I moved to the Holy Land Institute for the Deaf, Salt, Jordan. I was excited to try out my limited phrases, like "Kiifak?", and then respond to the same with "Ilhamdulillah!". Instead, I was greeted by children, who (I then proceed to quickly sign a series of inquisitions that children normally ask) did this, and you, of course, know what all that means.
On my second day at the institute, I happened to meet Brother Andrew. Brother Andrew is the school's director, and is notoriously busy, sometimes taking weeks to respond to a single email. But on that day, he happened to have time to chat. After about an hour of talking, he had determined that he wanted me to work in the Deafblind Unit. I agreed (I mean, he is the director, has a nice beard, and is somewhat intimidating).
Now, it should be mentioned that before coming to Jordan, I spent the summer volunteering at camps. And while doing this, I came across a verse that has stuck with me ever since.
When talking about deafblindness, most people think of Helen Keller. Now, Helen Keller wasn't born deafblind. She became ill and lost her hearing and sight at about 18 months (those months were significant times of development). Mohammed was born deafblind, so I like to think he is just a little bit better than Helen Keller...
During my time working with Mohammed, we have done many things. When we began, he could not say when he wanted something. Respond to questions. Say how he's feeling. He's improved his communication in so many ways. Mohammed's legacy, though, will likely be learning Arabic. He is the first congenitally deafblind person (to my knowledge) in Jordan, and perhaps the Middle East, to learn a written language. Truly, he is Jordan's "Helen Keller". When we began working on it, we were told many times that it was a futile effort. That he would never understand. That we were wasting time on something too complex.
I am stubborn, to a fault. So we kept plugging away. The door, fingerspelling "B-A-B" (in Arabic, of course). Father, "B-A-B-A". Brent, "B-R-N-T". Again and again.
Months later (and this might reveal something about my character, as I secretly reveled in the sweet taste of "I told you so"), a teacher came to me. She explained that Mohammed had gone to all the teachers and fingerspelled their names, one by one. Awesome. And I just sat there nodding, knowingly, that he could do it all along.
I have also seen Mohammed grow as a person, especially into his sense of humor. There are too many instances to count, or remember for that matter. Here are a few:
We have toiled through failure to find our way to success. But there have been many success, and much learning. Mohammed has taught me much. Much about relationships. Much about grace and forgiveness. Much about humility. Much about unconditional love. He has shown me that we are never characterized by disability. Or by what we are unable to do. We are characterized by our abilities. His life gives me courage to read Proverbs, and be challenged to love the Lord with all my heart, and lean not on my own understanding. In all my way, to acknowledge, knowing that he will make my paths straight.
Through the opportunity that was placed in front of me, I have been lucky enough to see God's hand in much of what I do with my own hands, as well as the hands of my student. To be blessed with innumerable opportunities to learn. To have had such a wonderful experience that I did nothing to deserve. I will never find another student like Mohammed, but as I move on, I will do so with faith that God will continue to guide me on this path.
At the end, I requested we sing #545, Be Thou My Vision. It was wonderful.
Some might think I have enjoyed my years in Jordan, or that it has significantly changed me. Dare I say it, they might be on to something. Peace.
When I signed up for the SALT program, I chose a placement with the following job description: Interest in working with, and nurturing creativity in Deaf children and young people aged 4-20 years. Willingness to help with leisure time and playground supervision duties and teach English.
This is not what I've been doing the past three years.
After studying Arabic for my first month in Amman, I moved to the Holy Land Institute for the Deaf, Salt, Jordan. I was excited to try out my limited phrases, like "Kiifak?", and then respond to the same with "Ilhamdulillah!". Instead, I was greeted by children, who (I then proceed to quickly sign a series of inquisitions that children normally ask) did this, and you, of course, know what all that means.
On my second day at the institute, I happened to meet Brother Andrew. Brother Andrew is the school's director, and is notoriously busy, sometimes taking weeks to respond to a single email. But on that day, he happened to have time to chat. After about an hour of talking, he had determined that he wanted me to work in the Deafblind Unit. I agreed (I mean, he is the director, has a nice beard, and is somewhat intimidating).
Now, it should be mentioned that before coming to Jordan, I spent the summer volunteering at camps. And while doing this, I came across a verse that has stuck with me ever since.
- Proverbs 3:5-6 - Love the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.
When talking about deafblindness, most people think of Helen Keller. Now, Helen Keller wasn't born deafblind. She became ill and lost her hearing and sight at about 18 months (those months were significant times of development). Mohammed was born deafblind, so I like to think he is just a little bit better than Helen Keller...
During my time working with Mohammed, we have done many things. When we began, he could not say when he wanted something. Respond to questions. Say how he's feeling. He's improved his communication in so many ways. Mohammed's legacy, though, will likely be learning Arabic. He is the first congenitally deafblind person (to my knowledge) in Jordan, and perhaps the Middle East, to learn a written language. Truly, he is Jordan's "Helen Keller". When we began working on it, we were told many times that it was a futile effort. That he would never understand. That we were wasting time on something too complex.
I am stubborn, to a fault. So we kept plugging away. The door, fingerspelling "B-A-B" (in Arabic, of course). Father, "B-A-B-A". Brent, "B-R-N-T". Again and again.
Months later (and this might reveal something about my character, as I secretly reveled in the sweet taste of "I told you so"), a teacher came to me. She explained that Mohammed had gone to all the teachers and fingerspelled their names, one by one. Awesome. And I just sat there nodding, knowingly, that he could do it all along.
I have also seen Mohammed grow as a person, especially into his sense of humor. There are too many instances to count, or remember for that matter. Here are a few:
- Mohammed has a job, and he works for a small salary at the school. Occasionally we'll go out and buy a Pepsi. I like to tease him, so I'll go up and prod him, saying, "Thank you so much for buying me a Pepsi." Smiling, he'll shoot back, "You've had enough, thanks be to God. This is mine!".
- Mohammed met a teacher in passing, and she reminded him about the upcoming 10 days of vacation. He doesn't even really acknowledge her, dismissively saying, "Wrong." As I prepare to intervene (specifically to remind him to converse politely), he continues with a grin, "...I'm going home for 11 days vacation."
We have toiled through failure to find our way to success. But there have been many success, and much learning. Mohammed has taught me much. Much about relationships. Much about grace and forgiveness. Much about humility. Much about unconditional love. He has shown me that we are never characterized by disability. Or by what we are unable to do. We are characterized by our abilities. His life gives me courage to read Proverbs, and be challenged to love the Lord with all my heart, and lean not on my own understanding. In all my way, to acknowledge, knowing that he will make my paths straight.
Through the opportunity that was placed in front of me, I have been lucky enough to see God's hand in much of what I do with my own hands, as well as the hands of my student. To be blessed with innumerable opportunities to learn. To have had such a wonderful experience that I did nothing to deserve. I will never find another student like Mohammed, but as I move on, I will do so with faith that God will continue to guide me on this path.
At the end, I requested we sing #545, Be Thou My Vision. It was wonderful.
 |
| On a recent field trip, we climbed trees, bought Pepsi, and hiked all over Roman ruins. |
 | ||
| Together with some deaf students at my surprise birthday party. |
