Indicorps /// News

Home

News

One

A cool wind swept through the community center that Sunday morning. Ahmedabad’s winter finally arrived, ushering in cozy sweaters, bright kites in the pale blue sky, and rare patches of warm sun. While I finished hand-washing my colossal load of laundry, fingers and feet numb, I could only wonder, “Will they come?”

Optimistically, I put out the ten small sized matlos, earthen water vessels, I picked up earlier that morning, displayed a chalkboard, set up my i-tunes blazing laptop and began the wait. My eyes were fixed on the gate of the community center, a beautiful, serene oasis in the midst of Ahmedabad’s largest slum, Ramapir no Tekro. I thought assuredly, any second now, my usual four girls plus or minus a few will arrive for Drashti, an adolescent empowerment course I helped spearhead. In an otherwise unused space on Sundays, I imagined the center would become the hangout for a bunch of troubled, yet eager-to-learn, teens.

On that Sunday, however, only one girl arrived. Similar to previous Sundays, Nita showed up hoping she would enjoy her two hours spent at the community center.

“Where are your friends?” I asked. She did not know.

Hesitantly, I asked her if we should move into the room and continue the planned session. She agreed. Reluctance combined with disappointment, in both my kids and myself, was incredibly difficult to hide. As we listened to songs describing change, I kept reminding myself that one is enough. If I can empower one girl, one person, then I’ve had made a real difference, a change; however, I could not help but feel defeated.

During our session, Nita shared examples of change from her own life: “I laugh less,” she said. For Nita, this was a positive change. Soon I understood why. The shy, nervous Nita who used to hide behind her unending giggles, had developed into a more confident, unguarded Nita. Five weeks ago, during our first session, she could hardly speak. Her nervous laughter drowned out her voice, and on that Sunday, she herself noticed a change that came from within her. In her thoughtful and unexpected words, I could hear Nita loud and clear, and she was telling me: I am here because I want to learn, to grow, and to have control over my future.

Soon our session moved outside. On that winter Sunday, under the warm Indian sun, we painted two matlos. I asked her to recall last week’s session about her dreams and to paint something related to her goal. Nita, a ninth standard student, dreams BIG. She hopes to pass her tenth and twelfth standard board exams, pursue a B.S, and then finally become a doctor.

“What can I paint about being a doctor?” she wondered for a moment. Then, strokes in varying colors and sizes began to cover the unusual canvas, and soon her matlo held her dreams: a picture of a stethoscope, an instrument she even claimed to own. “My dad bought it for me.”

Nita’s father is an alcoholic. He is employed and paid well; however, like most men in the Tekro, he turns to liquor for enjoyment, escape, and purpose. Her mother is not formally educated. Nita’s parents worry about her because she is a female growing up in a slum and forbid her to leave her house for extended periods of time. Yet, that Sunday she came to the community center.

From the gentle-eyed, giggling, sweet Nita, I learned greatly that Sunday. I discovered that confidence is spending two hours with an unfamiliar non-residential Indian hoping to learn something new, that courage is staying without your friends’ presence to give you strength, that initiative is wanting to change your own life, and that passion is not just voicing a dream, but etching it into reality.

Before Nita left, she both deliberately and sweetly said to me, “You must have the class next week, even if it is just me here.” I wholeheartedly agreed.

Rashida Merchant is a native of New Jersey and a 2007 graduate of Boston University.. As a 2007-2008 Indicorps fellow, Rashida helps to maximize the usage of a community center in Ahmedabad’s most populous slum, Ramapir no Tekro.

NDTV Feature on Indicorps

New Blog Entries

From the Gallery

See images by Kajal Patel, a talented UK-based photographer, that are part of an Indicorps project to capture the journey of India's people. Her work particularly focused on widows and the nature of the rag-picking industry in Gujarat's largest slum.

Aasma

Learn about the Indicorps / SAATH partnership, started by Indicorps intern Ajlai Basu, that has lead to Aasma - a volunteer-driven school for street children near the Indicorps office in Gujarat.

The Fellowship

The next fellowship applications are available for fellowship classes starting August 2008 and January 2009. To apply, click here.

Inspiration

If you have come to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.

- Lila Watson