Unquantifiable

As a teacher in the U.S., a lot of how I taught and assessed was based on the need to collect data.  I needed to have numbers to show where my students started, how they progressed, and how they'd improved by the end of the year.  I submitted a spreadsheet of color-coded numbers with my teacher evaluation paperwork to show how effective I was as a teacher.  But those color-coded numbers didn't show the types of improvements of which I was the most proud.  The numbers didn't show the way the boy who barely spoke English became a leader in the class, or how the quiet, reserved girl whose parents worked multiple jobs lit up with joy when her mother could come to her strings concert.  Those improvements can't be quantified.

I see the same qualitative improvements here at the Tania Centre since I first volunteered in 2013, but in spades:

Charity, who used to spend her time squatting on the ground, picking at the dirt, and would only eat her food off the floor, now walks upright, makes eye contact, and eats from a plate.

Lucy, who used to use force to get as much food as quickly as she could at meal times, even stealing from other students, sat patiently on Sunday and waited to be served her tea.  She smiled and signed "thank you" when she was allowed to have her tea.

Kanje, who used to be a shy, reserved toddler (in front of me, at least), now leads her friends in songs during church on Sunday.

Ann, who used to only speak Swahili and was shy about speaking to me, now smiles and speaks excellent English when she sees me.

Mokishoi, who rarely spoke or smiled or interacted with others, now flashes her big-toothed grin every time I see her and is constantly moving around to hang out with other students and to help Charity get where she needs to go.

The other Ann, who was brought to Tania when the place where she lived wasn't safe for her, was able to return to her village with her two small children because she now has a safe place to stay there.

The Tania Centre has had its share of struggles over the past two years since I first came here.  Keeping teachers is a challenge with limited resources.  Meeting basic needs isn't always a given.  Yet, the dedication of the staff here means that these children aren't just surviving, they're thriving.  I am honored to be counted among those staff members now, and I am thrilled to get to watch how these children progress over the next three years.  And can you imagine the improvements in these children's lives if we could work together to raise their quality of life?

How can you put that into numbers on a spreadsheet?