Who’s Your Mama?
It took me 10 days to broach this subject, as it was something I’ve been internally struggling with. It started last week when we were painting a crèche (day care) in the townships as part of our partnership with GOLD Peer Education. While we were painting the two-room pre-school all of the children were moved directly across the street. The “mamas” went with them (a “mama” here in South Africa is a term that refers to anyone who is taking care of the children or running a household, not just their mothers). Those who weren’t painting were spending time playing with the children in the building across the street — and when I say building, I mean a two-room brick and mortar structure. As we winded down painting, I made my way across the street to take a look at what was happening – a room congested with 40 children and a dozen adults. It was hot; it was cramped; it was unusual. Here you have an all black community that has just been infiltrated by a group of white, privileged women. And they were all over the babies. So, when the babies’ real mamas came to pick them up, I did what I thought was the polite thing to do. I sat outside and I watched. I couldn’t imagine what they were thinking. Given what I know of my own false pretenses, I think if the situation were reversed, I might have thought “Who are these strange black women and why are their hands all over my child?” So I stayed out of it, not wanting to offend anyone but hoping that, like everything else that has been revealed this week, my limiting beliefs would not only be exposed but also shattered.
Now, fast forward a few days and we are now at another local school (more typical in size and scale) working with Earthchild to inaugurate their new yoga classroom and to paint the mural attached to it. It was a wonderful day spent with the children and members of the local yoga community. There was yoga, singing, drums, dancing and more. I, like most of the other participants, found myself “picked” by a little girl who stayed glued to my side all day. She was beautiful. She was happy. She didn’t speak English, and I still don’t even know her name. But somehow, we communicated enough to make it through the day together, and rather well. The day ended with the group in a circle and the little girl sitting on my lap. Then, her mama walked in. I knew it instantly because she looked me in the eyes. My chest tightened – “uh oh, here we go”, I thought. So, I proceeded as normal and continued my interactions with the girl, making sure to not put a damper on her lovely experiences of the day. Here’s what went down.
As she left with her mama, I walked outside to give her one more hug good-bye. Standing nearby, fellow participant Tim Thill spoke up and asked the woman if she was the girl’s mother at which she, of course, replied yes. We both jumped at the opportunity to compliment the girl on her behavior, her spirit and her physical beauty. And then the moment of truth arrived. The moment I had been dreading. The anticipated “who do you people think you are” moment. Here is what Mama said when she opened her mouth, “Thank you. Thank you so much for what you guys are doing. My daughter is normally so shy but when she comes home from school it’s all she talks about. If she didn’t have yoga after school, she’d be home by herself and I don’t know what she would be doing. So thank you, we really appreciate it.”
Wow. Assumption shattered. Heart exploded. So I responded by giving up my box of Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies that were for the bus, and giving them to my new favorite people on Earth. Whose names I still don’t know. But at least I got to say hi to Mama.
by Maura Manzo
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Maura Manzo is a Global Seva Challenge 2010 participant.
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Now doesn’t that alone make the trip worth while.
Beautiful!
Maura, you are amazing…thank you for doing this for all of us!!! That story brought tears to my eyes.
AW! MuMa. All moms want their children to be loved. So sweet!
that was a beautiful story . i got chills. you are an amazing young lady keep doing what you are great at!
thanks for sharing !
i am so tortured by this and all of the other blogs. Powerful emotions in all of them. Yearning to be there with you, giving and rceiving. You will never be the same as you have experienced the face of God, over and over. Thank you for all you have done, are doing and will continue to do.
Maura, You write like you live..clear, honest, and open with your heart leading the way. Thank You Maura..Thank You for being Real! T