 Why Anne Moses believes that those she couldn’t teach taught her everything.
Based on an interview with Anne Moses,
an English Literature teacher at Taylor’s College. |
What’s really important in life? And, just as importantly, who are you becoming as a result of your answer to that question?
Fourteen years ago, Anne Moses would have replied, “Getting more As from my students”. It was the kind of answer that made her school happy, but it didn’t satisfy Anne. In fact it made her miserable. There had to be a better way to be a teacher but she didn’t know what it was. And so, there came a day when she finally taught her last lesson, and embarked on a quest that took her all the way from her classroom of high achievers to a group of intellectually disabled adults at L’Arche Lambeth in London.
And as this is as much a story of God’s loving guidance as it is of Anne’s quest, you need to know that Anne never intended to work at L’Arche. She was in England for quite another reason. But one day she happened to stop by a charity shop and, idly scanning the noticeboard, noticed that L’Arche Canterbury needed volunteers.
The foreign-sounding name was instantly familiar. Back in Kuala Terengganu, Anne had read about Henri Nouwen’s writings that had stirred her dissatisfaction with her life as an efficient producer of As.
L’Arche, French for ‘The Ark’, is an international family of 126 communities in 30 countries in which people with learning disabilities and their assistants live and work together in a home setting. Freed from the terrors of institutionalised care, the intellectually disabled a t L’Arche are key members of small, loving communities.
Today, it is easy to forget that L’Arche only exists because one man decided to obey God’s call to live with the mentally handicapped. In 1964, a philosophy lecturer called Jean Vanier turned his back on academia and invited two mentally and physically disabled men to live with him.
“We did everything together. We cooked, we worked in the garden together, we fought together, we prayed together, we forgave each other. I began by thinking that I could do good to them, but then, as the days and months moved on, I began to discover, little by little, what they were doing for me – transforming me, changing me. I thought I was going to teach them something and suddenly I was discovering that they were teaching me quite a bit.”
Anne’s involvement with L’Arche began as a part-time volunteer at L’Arche Canterbury. Noticing how much she enjoyed her time with them, the leader of L’Arche Canterbury invited Anne to apply for a full-time position with L’Arche Lambeth. Two searching interviews later, and Anne found herself with the ‘Relaxing Group’ – a small group of intellectually disabled older adults.
This is her story.
 "While the younger members worked at making candles, weaving and producing fruit and vegetables for sale, the members of the Relaxing Group did light craft work, mainly as a form of occupational therapy.
There was Doreen, who was already quite ill and weak. She made cards and found that very therapeutic. Doris made wonderful shawls. Her colour coordination was fantastic. Some of her shawls were sent to the Queen and the Queen Mother, and she received thank you notes from them.
Primrose enjoyed cross-stitching, and her colours blended beautifully.
Philip, who had Downs, was fortunate because his parents had taught him to read and write. He could even produce his own newsletter. Philip just loved people, and we began our friendship with a big hug from him.
John was crazy about trains. He also loved keeping the compound absolutely free from leaves. He didn’t like me at first, and used to walk out of the room when I entered. I was their first ‘coloured’ assistant and I think he found it difficult to adjust to that. I told myself not to take it personally – to let him be himself – and our relationship gradually improved.
The wonderful thing about them was that they accepted themselves as they were – defects and all. There was no mask. There was no denial. There was no shame.
Andrea, our leader, said that when some of them first arrived at L’Arche they had been very angry about the time they had spent in mental institutions. Britain, and many other countries, used to place the intellectually handicapped with psychiatric cases. All of them were terrified of hospitals, nurses, and medicine. If you even mentioned the word ‘hospital’ they become very agitated: ‘Don’t say that!’
Once a week we had devotions that began with a reading, followed by sharing from the members. Most of the time, I didn’t understand what they were saying, but I knew from their tone that they had a very sincere relationship with God. When it came to the hymns, they would join in and sing their own hymn to their own tune. ‘Yes,’ I thought, ‘we aren’t singing like a choir but so what? All this actually makes our worship beautiful.’
It was a liberating experience.
Open and Vulnerable
The things they felt strongly about were never hidden. Their joys and longings were out in the open. They were not ashamed.
Primrose loved babies and her room was full of baby photos. She desperately wanted kids. Sometimes she would get very depressed about this.
When her feet were swollen, I would take her round the block in a wheelchair. There was a kindergarten nearby, and she used to make me stop there. If the children happened to be playing outside, she would be radiant.
And the slow learner was I.
Once a week, Andrew (the other assistant), Andrea (our leader) and I would meet to share what we had learned during the week. We had to reflect on our relationship with the members. It wasn’t just about being with the members and doing physical stuff for them.
At L’Arche I finally learned to accept myself. The people there were so open, so comfortable with themselves. They weren’t afraid to be judged.
I think we all struggle with the feeling that we are not good enough. That we’re never going to be good enough.
When it was time to leave, Philip made a little red card for me which they all signed. The picture he drew looks rather like three candles in a boat – or that’s what some people have said. But it’s actually the L’Arche logo of three people in a boat, journeying together through dangerous waters to a new beginning and a rainbow. Philip wasn’t wrong about the candles, though. L’Arche did light something within me. It gave me a sense of what it means to be fully human.
As a teacher once again, I allow my students to say what comes into their minds. They can be who they are. I am very aware of them as individuals, and much more sensitive to their facial expressions. I am enjoying their individuality.
L’Arche has helped me a lot, especially as a teacher of literature. Literature isn’t just about head knowledge; the heart has to be engaged too.
Academic success isn’t the only way to be fulfilled. There are many other ways. And, while I continue to work with my students for the best possible results, I believe we are all benefiting from the lessons my teachers at L’Arche taught me all those years ago."
____________________
This article was first published in In Step, Teachers’ Christian Fellowship Malaysia Vol 16 Issue 4. Used with permission.
|
