Eldorado Park: A Pocket Full of PovertyWritten by Super User
I battle to fight off the heat and tears.
The modular, zinc, classroom is hot and humid. I fan myself – an exercise in futility. Another day of teaching a class of 37 children leaves me worn out. Actually, it is more than the teaching and heat that make me feel blurry-eyed. At this point, in hot November, I was finding it harder to accept what was brought into my classroom every day. My humanity was constantly being questioned by my conscience. And all I could think was, “How can we fix this?”
I am a teacher at Nancefield Primary School in Eldorado Park. I have worked here for ten months now. What is my every day struggle? Being okay. I have the honour of teaching a grade three class. During these ten months, I feel that I am become part mother, part teacher. I deal with scraped knees, colds, nearly broken limbs and bloody noses. I give them pocket money and lunch. I make sure some have clothing. But still, it feels that I am not doing enough..
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