Opportunities and Abilities

Today I visited the Poona School and Home for Blind Girls, located in the quiet and suburban area of Kothran. After visiting the boys school I had high expectations and a budding day dream, which I was apprehensive of feeding, but despite my best efforts of fighting naivety it continued to grow and grow beyond my careful control. And I ended up sitting in front of the head teacher asking about their admissions, and if they accepted girls from other states or with multiple disabilities. The answer was affirmative to both and accommodation, food, education and clothing is all provided free of charge.

The girls school is home to 150 girls from the ages of six to eighteen. Like the boys school the younger girls attend school within the centre, before they graduate into the mainstream secondary education of the nearby government school. The girls school also provides vocational training to its young women, equipping them with as many skills as possible to survive in a world unfairly weighted against them. The social worker who showed me around, shared with me that it was very difficult for the young women to find work, but they were all able to live independently, and as their prospects of marriage is incredibly slight, this independence is vital. The vocational training centre provides classes in cooking, hand-loom, sewing, dress making, massage and candle making. The school already have a contract with a local firm for making 5,000 squares of material per month, while their selection of handi-crafts is on sale for visitors. The school have their own braille machine, an extensive braille library equipped with a telescope for low vision students and computer software that reads books. The computer keyboards are all equipped with braille and tactile landmarks are placed around the building to help the students with their orientation. The musical instruments comprise of a full orchestra and the girls regularly perform classical concerts for the public during local festivals. The classrooms are arranged in such a way that the teacher is in arms reach of all of the students, so that within one touch she has their specific attention. There is also a fantastic room designed to develop motor skills and coordination. The fantastic room includes all kinds of climbing frames, balancing balls and swings. I did not even have to try to image Deepa exploring the equipment – the room was perfect for her, and a far cry from the play ground at Sishu Bhavan.

The actual cost of sponsoring a child is 18,000 rupees or about £260 per year. Considering that I am paying (with the committed help of donors) 48,000 (£705) rupees for a year of weekly speech therapy classes for three blind girls, this shows what can be achieved with minimal resources and expert commitment. The figure also casts a shadow over the use of funds by the Missionaries of Charities. Visiting the school and seeing the facilities available to help the children develop to their fullest potential and watching as the girls ran around, totally free and independent, has given a renewed burst of energy to my fight for Deepa. There is no reason other than the lack of will by the Missionaries of Charity that Deepa and the other blind girls in Sishu Bahavan should not be receiving the same education.

Before I left Kolkata, I was sitting talking with a special needs teacher from Sweden. In fact it was his Tibetan singing bowls which had so mesmerized Deepa and provided such unusual stimulation for the children. During our many conversations I had been trying to glean as much advice and information of how best I could use my time with Deepa to encourage her use of language. Then he went to Sikkim for two weeks and came back smiling his way through praises of a eighty four year old Buddhist monk. The monk had responded to need and was building an orphanage for children with special needs. The orphanage was situated at the foothills of the Himalayas, and although it was still under construction, he already had several orphans under his care. What had so impressed my Swedish friend was the vision of the elderly monk. He wanted to provide a space for the children to learn the necessary skills to live in a society which had little provisions to teach them. Meanwhile, the monk recognised the unique potential of the children and was determined to establish connections with local and international special needs teachers who would be able to guide the children towards their fullest potentials.

Then my friend looked directly into my eyes and said simple and wise words of warning. As he spoke, I listened, and as I listened I felt a resonance deep inside. My friend said “they are not just denying Deepa her power, they are denying a huge source of power, of intelligence to the world.”

Imagining Deepa here; seeing the opportunities that the blind girls and young women here have to develop their skills and foster the necessary courage to enter a society which is not yet totally prepared for them, draws a stark contrast to the denial of Sishu Bahavan to facilitate Deepa's education or even to teach her simple life skills. Of the 150 girls at the school, none are wearing nappies, all know how to wash themselves, feed themselves and all are learning how to live their lives as differently-abled rather than as 'dis'-abled.