Derby educator returns to U.S. after mission in Africa

Says she will miss friends she made in Kenya

By Lois Knapton

Director, Special Education

Derby Public Schools

After months living in Nairobi, Kenya, Africa, I am headed home to Derby.

 As the 747-400, double-decker airplane attempts lift off, I am filled with mixed emotions. 

Lois Knapton

 I remember how excited I was to be going to serve in Africa, but this time, the excitement is not the same.
Although  I am looking forward to seeing all my friends, family, and colleagues, back in the U.S., at the same time, I know it will be an emotional struggle to re-integrate into a society that is so opposite to what I have been living in for the last three months.

  I am already missing the many intimate friendships I made with the Kenyans. 

 Although I lived in a "normal' house at night with all the amenities, including "house help," during the day I worked deep in the slums of the Mathare Valley... and words and pictures simply cannot describe it.

 Some of the Kenyan people Knapton met

In the slums, there is no sewer and no running water, no washing machines, no bathrooms, no stoves, no sinks, no refrigeration, one bed for 10 people, dirt floors in a tin shack; and maybe there is a small kerosene cook stove where rice is boiling.  

A walk through the slums

They lead such a simple, yet so difficult life, solely based on survival and lead by their deep faith.   In this survival mode, there is no room for "American" thinking... Americans are loud. Many are materialistic, egocentric, self-centered, fast-paced and on their own "mission" to make "me" feel as comfortable as "I" need.  

This outlook on life is completely the opposite of how I have been living for the last 2.5 months. My anxiety toward re-integration is real. 

As I did my first load of laundry on U.S. soil, my mind kept flashing back to the many women, hand washing their clothes and bathing their  children in a small bin filled with  water they had lugged on their head for miles. 

 Driving home from the airport, we passed a 32-foot, fifth-wheel trailer being pulled by a Ford 350;  a house on wheels used for vacationing, probably for two people. That house could fit 12 families in Kenya. 

It is amazing what we can do without. We are all human beings...how can our experience of life be so opposite yet so much the same?

Knapton training teachers in Kenya

As an educational leader, I knew my leadership skills would be put to the test..and I passed with flying colors.  

This was a big challenge and I learned so much from these people. I was successful in developing procedures and forms describing referral and assessment for students with special needs. Then I held 23 teacher, parent, and student trainings to inform all stakeholders of the new system.  The remainder of my time was dedicated to job embedded professional  development of their first special needs educator. 

In Kenya, some teachers actually have been studying special needs in college but the K-12 school systems do not yet know how to use these teachers.
I was truly implementing a cutting edge system...and it is evolving. The new resource room was being painted as my plane lifted off.
I learned that leadership matters.  At any level, the leader  truly is the key to success.  A good leader is rarely seen. A servant leader stays in the pack with all their colleagues, as the pack moves toward their vision and aspirations.  

At times, the leader needs to put forth a new idea, get stakeholder buy in and move the system forward. That is what I was able to do in a third world country; and I was successful. 

Another lesson I learned was sustainability is key. A good leader puts columns in place to sustain the implemented changes.  
In Africa, whenever I trained, or developed forms, or devised procedures, I had a Kenyan take the lead on the action because I knew I would not be there forever and I needed to know someone else could carry the torch. 

I learned that no matter what I did do, I am not indispensable.  Any job I have, I know I can be replaced. When a leader thinks they are indispensable, that is when they will start to crumble.  Leaders should never believe they are indispensable.  We are all replaceable.  However, some leaders are more successful than others; I will always give 110 percent at my job.
  Clearly, excellent leaders have earned their status by producing successful outcomes.

I thank all of you for your continued support while I was away. And I thank you for continuing to read my weekly column. If you pass me on the street, stop and say hello. I would be happy to share my experiences in more detail.

  Now to start a new adventure, another school year in Derby. I am sure it will not be without its challenges, but I am also sure of another thing, I am a different person.

 I am confident in my leadership abilities, I have softened my views on what I "need" versus what I "want"; my outlook on life has changed dramatically.

             
"Don't sweat the small stuff, and it's all small stuff." 

Here I come Derby.

Educator learns one person can make a difference

Knapton

By Lois Knapton
Director, Special Education
Derby Public Schools

What can one person really do?
I have come to believe that one person can truly transform lives forever.

Remember Moses?  Well, I had the pleasure of visiting him again this week. He is a totally different child.

When we first met six weeks ago, he had been home-bound and in bed for 10  years, only crawling out to sit on the couch to eat his porridge; he is 14.

The mother did everything for him. She did not think Moses could learn anything. She also thought he was deaf.
With prompting and some physical assistance, he miraculously started walking on his own.

And that was only the beginning.
When we visited this week, Mary, the mother  said, that since we came last, he has grown so much and he is a completely different child now.
Both she and Moses are changed people forever. His bed sores are gone and he plays outside with his siblings, he is making noises now trying to talk, he is starting to communicate with his mom when he needs to go the bathroom...he can hold his own spoon...and he ran across the play area today. It is truly amazing to watch this continued transformation of lives.









Let's talk about Laveenda, she is the 12-year old girl the mother was carrying on her hip as we walked to her house. She spends most of the day in her bed.
 That day, six weeks ago, the mother was desperate for help, she was anxious and depressed, in total despair and feeling hopeless. 


Her family, including her husband,  has shunned her because her tribe does not accept such children, so the single mother had to find a separate house for the child to sleep in, alone.
The mother comes to visit her child four times per day to make sure she is safe.

The day we visited six weeks ago, the child was non-responsive, nearly falling asleep sitting up.
I was heartbroken. What could I possible do for them?

We talked. I talked about the fact that is is OK to have a child with a disability, it is not a curse, and that the child can learn.
I encouraged the mother to continue loving her child, despite the disabling condition. I told the mom to get the child outside, take her for walks. The child had scoliosis and can only walk for 50 feet or so.
We prayed for her and her family. Then we left. This past week, as we visited her again, the mother told us she was filled with hope. She mother had moved her child again to a new room, still alone, but closer to the mom. 


The child was sitting up and at times, tried to communicate with the mother.
I commended the mother on her obvious unconditional love for her child. She told us that since our last visit, she has been filled with  renewed hope and things have gotten much better for all of them.  It is still very hard, but at least it is better. I was amazed.

I was wondering, what did I really do? Then I realized I had accomplished exactly what I had set out to do in the beginning of all of this, instill hope and knowledge to parents and children with disabilities.







Then there is John Kiamani, an adult who suffered an accident two years ago, and is paralyzed from the waist down.
Again, on our first visit, weeks ago, I felt helpless.

What can I offer him? My knowledge on paralysis is minimal, and I could see no way for him to be productive in these slum conditions.
He would never be able to get out of his house. I was having limited thinking. The team of people encouraged him to be faithful in his walk. I told him God has big plans for him.

This week was our third visit to his house, and every time we visit, he encourages us, he greets us with a smile, and he prays for us and with tears in his eyes, he told me he is filled with hope since we first visited him; when he saw me come back to his house for third time, he felt truly blessed and encouraged. He said he is feeling stronger and better. And he is trying to think of a way he can be productive in society.

His wife works and he makes lunch every day for his two children, from his bed....life is hard here.
Every Sunday, his friends carry him to to the road and they put him on a Boda Boda (motorbike) sandwiched between two of them and take the long journey out to his church.
You can imagine how risky it is to ride a motorbike, on these Kenyan roads, when you have no feeling in your legs at all. Even balancing is a struggle. But they make it. Every Sunday.  
  

Back at the main office, as we were taking Chai, I was talking to Isabella, still in wonderment about what these people had said; and that their lives truly have been transformed and hope instilled.
Life is hard enough for able-bodied people and hundreds of times harder for people with disabilities. These people persevere through many hardships. I can see the hope in their eyes and smiles, they are truly grateful.

As my doubts attempt to creep in, Isabella replies, "We give them hope and prayer. Now do you believe one person can make a difference?"

Editor's note: Knapton is on a three-month mission working with special needs students and their parents in Nairobi, Kenya. She is sharing her experiences here each week.

Educator survives scare in slums of Nairobi

By Lois Knapton

Director, Special Education

Derby Public Schools

Violated…violated…

Well, it finally happened. 

Let me preface it with I am unharmed and safe, in my temporary home in Africa.  

I have been in Nairobi for two months, and I venture out into the slums at least three times per week, we often need to wait on the side of the street to “jump” on a Matatu, to get to the next school.

 I am careful, always with one to three Kenyans, my hands are empty, my cell phone is hidden deep in my pocket, no purse, no handbag, we walk with a purpose, steadily, and quickly, watching all around us. But today was different.

            

           I and one other Kenyan staff slowly walked toward the main road to wait for our Matatu. It is a very busy place. Many people were roaming around, some waiting for the bus, some getting on or off, vendors selling their items, glue-sniffing people begging for food, homeless kids wandering around, and Matatus picking up and dropping people off, slowing down and speeding up. 

        I am used to many eyes watching me. 

        But today, I could see a young man eyeing me in a different way.  It seemed like he wanted to see what he could steal. I laid my arm over my pocket where my cell phone was tightly tucked away and crossed my hands in front of me. I turned away as he brushed past my shoulder. 

       The Kenyan staff was very keen on him to. We waited. Trying to stay calm and brave is a very difficult thing to do when you are raked with fear.
       So many things could happen out here. We had placed ourselves so only one side of me was open to the street. As I was convincing myself everything was OK, suddenly from behind my left shoulder, a right hand whipped in front of my face, grabbing the necklace I was wearing around my neck. 

      He yanked hard, the necklace broke free from my neck, and the two thugs calmly walked away, looking back over their shoulder as if to say, “Ha, we did it”… they were arrogant and defiant.

 I was stunned.  I just stood there, like a statue, watching them walk away, I wanted to run after them and start screaming, but I simply turned to look at everyone else who saw it, no one moved or spoke. The Kenyan staff with me was devastated.  She apologized and I said it was not her fault. We walked back and waited for our friend. They spoke in Kswahli.  They were very sorry it happened.

     Then, as if nothing had happened, we went right back the same spot, to get on a Matatu, to go to the staff training we had scheduled for the day.  As I rode that Matatu, my bravery suddenly turned to cowardess and I could feel the tears swelling up in my eyes. I felt so violated, my neck felt like it was scratched. I saw the whole thing happen again and again, they were so fast. So direct. So deliberate. Kenyans truly believe that all Americans have lots of money.  It could have been worse, they could have pushed me down, emptied my pockets, stole my shoes and anything else that is removable.  It was just a necklace, but that was not the point.

            Then my mind started racing, as tears slowly rolled down my cheeks
           What in the world am I doing here; living in a culture that struggles to survive on a daily basis, walking through areas where homeless children roam aimlessly for years, until they start sniffing glue to numb the pain, babies cry out for the mother they do not have, children play in the black sewer water that runs down the middle of the area, pregnant woman carry huge loads on their head or buckets of water, vendors sell food with flies buzzing around, people are starving, sick, begging, dying, daily. 

           And I think one lone soul can make a difference.

           At first thought, I said maybe I should give up and go home early.  Just get on an airplane and leave all this behind. I have done all I could do here.
          But then that small, quiet voice spoke to me, always so calm and convincing; you know what, I am making a difference, and I will persevere through this. 

In every success, there are stumbling blocks, and hurdles we must jump.  Nothing is ever easy, trials and tribulations are the joy of living, just think if everything was easy, no problems, no worries; life would be so boring. 

 But when I am in the middle of a life-lesson trial, it feels so difficult.  But in the end, I come out fighting, feeling strong and courageous again, ready to conquer the world and continue my mission.

Epilogue:  Two days later, the Executive Director called me down to the front office of the main building we work out of. He wanted to see me immediately. As I walked toward his office, my mind was racing; what had I done wrong, did I say something wrong in the teacher trainings, were they going to send me home, was I pushing too hard for a Resource Room? Why on earth would they want to speak to me? God only knew.

     I entered and sat down, while three people stared at me. I was so nervous. Then he pointed to his desk so I would look down, “Is that yours?”

 There was my necklace, the one that had been ripped off my neck two days ago, in the slums….I could not decipher my emotions…I was in awe. He asked me to look closely; he wanted to give me plenty of time, to see if it truly was my necklace.

 It was, and it was not broken. Then one of them made a phone call to let someone know it was my necklace and everyone rejoiced. The necklace had been sold and was retrieved. 

The details of the return will remain undisclosed, but I will tell you it is extremely rare for stolen items to be returned.  This truly was another miracle. 

Sunrise in Kenya

Editor's note: Knapton is on a three-month mission working with special needs students and their parents in Nairobi, Kenya. She is sharing her experiences here each week.

Closing the circle is vital, educator says

Helping needy, learning to drive all part of her journey in Kenya


By Lois Knapton

Special Education Director

Derby Public Schools

My new motto this year is Close the Circle, that means whatever I start, I need to assure that it gets finished, checking with everyone involved until the very end.  

So here in Kenya, we met a parent and her child has clubfoot.

She did not know what to do. We referred her to the clinic, we assured she went to her appointment, and now her son is being treated for free. His clubfoot surgery went well.  

Here he is with his casts on: 

They will stay on for two months, then he will wear foot braces. 

Below is a second child we are working with. He is done with his surgery and now in phase II. He will wear these foot braces for two to three years at night.

They will stay on for two months, then he will wear foot braces.

        Another story: When we met Nicole, she was constantly crying;  her mother said she never stops crying and it has lasted four years.

       The mother continually tries to console her daughter. As I looked at the child, I felt she was having ear problems. 

       We told the mother to bring her child to the clinic. One of the teams was holding a free medical clinic that week at the school. The mother followed through and brought her child to the clinic. The mother was given ear medicine. 

       We told her we would be back to assess after the medication was finished. Ten days later, guess what? Nicole's ears cleared up, she can hear now and she has stopped crying. The mother was amazed and so happy. 

     And the stories go on and on...

    Another success story: I met my sponsor child and her family again this year..."By small and simple things are great things brought to pass." Alma 37:6.
    And another success story: I took up driving in Kenya. Wow, what an experience. 

     The steering wheel is on the right-hand side of the car and you drive on the left hand side of the road. Thankfully, the gas pedal is still on the right and the brake pedal is still on the left. With all the Matatu's and crazy drivers, I really need to concentrate. But I just had to learn. Just to say I did it!!!
     Also, I attended a pre-wedding ceremony on Sunday. It was a fund raiser for someone's wedding. The funny thing was they auctioned off these chickens, and some eggs, and an umbrella. 

    I am definitely in Africa.
           
   Life in the slums is difficult, but they do not know any other way. So you wake up in the morning, and go to work if you have a job, otherwise, you sell your goods on the road, or beg, or steal, and do your laundry, next to the sewer that runs through the slums; hang it out to dry and go find food.  

      I am honored to be here serving for God. "The course of our lives is seldom determined by great, life-altering decisions. Our direction is often set by small, day-to-day choices that chart the track on which we run. This is the substance of our lives - making choices." ( Stand a Little Taller, 2001).  
 

      I will close this circle and leave behind a sustainable special education referral, assessment, and support system for this school and community. 

     I have four more weeks to finish the task.

     I guess I will have to come back to see the fruits of my labor blossom and change lives forever.

     I haven't even left and already I am thinking of coming back. But that is how it goes.       

Editor's note: Knapton is spending three months working in Kenya and is sharing her experiences here each week.   
 

Educator feels 'fully integrated' into Kenyan lifestyle

By Lois Knapton

Lois Knapton

Director, Special Education          
Derby Public Schools

While all of you are roasting in 90-degree weather, I am sitting in 55 degrees at night and sometimes 70 during the day.

It seems odd that I am just skipping summer all together.
My seasonal clock is a little tipped… some of the things I miss are   camping, watching the campfire burn, eating s'mores, looking at the stars and full moon, swimming, boating and kayaking, lounging by the pool, and especially ice cream cones, bummer…


But it is OK, because I am truly making a difference in many lives and I am sure I will have plenty of summers to enjoy in the future.
And I really hate the heat anyway. At least I will not have to pay an air conditioner bill!

The other day, as I wound around the unpaved, side roads of Kenya, on a six-hour journey going to safari, I sat in the back seat of a beat up old van, jostling up and down as we navigate our way over the speed bumps and around the many potholes (nothing compares to them in America), donkey carts, mattatus, motor bikes, and people, I wondered what it would feel like to drive again. What if I forget?  And I am kind of getting used to driving on the left side of the roads.

Baboon walking along the road.

But I did have a scary experience last week: I almost got mugged by slum thugs. We were walking through a slum on our way to visit a child at a school.  The day had started with the matuttu driver charging us double the fare because of the white girl. He drove off with our change.

There were three of us, Isabella, Anne, and myself. These girls are tiny little girls, size 0 or one. The road was muddy so we were forced to walk single file. We got separated and I was a bit nervous. But God always has a plan.  Isabella was four people ahead of us.  She is alert, and always paying attention to her surroundings.
 She heard two guys saying, “Let’s attack this musungo, I will take her earrings, you get the necklace, and I will try to get the shoulder bag”…. so Isabella waited for me to catch up then she pushed me in the opposite direction, through the muddy street, and said, "Go that way," and off I went, followed by Anne, as Isabella yelled at the men.
By the way, the earrings, were simple costume jewelry and the necklace was a African one I bought for $200 shillings, or about $2.37.
The hand bag was a small cloth bag wrapped around my shoulder.  After we were safely out of harm's away, we were all clearly a bit shaken, but we found a friendly vendor to sit by and collect our wits.
This kind of thing happens in many cities, not just Kenya…but the color of my skin really makes me a target over here.   

 If you have ever been part of implementing sustainable, systematic change, you know that on a daily basis, it just feels like another day.
We need to get done what we planned to get done for the day.
But over time, when you look back over the road, you say, "Wow, how did we get here already?”  The change process is a funny thing. Do not ever doubt yourself.
I had vision over a year ago and I felt a strong need to pursue it. I just felt like I had something to offer, I could develop a system of referral, assessment and supports for children with special needs, in a country where there is none.
And look at me. I never dreamed in a thousand years I would be here in Kenya, doing this. Never doubt yourself. If you believe something, especially if it comes to you in prayer, sit up and listen, reflect and see what it might mean for you. Too often, we are too busy to listen. Be still.  I have learned that over the last seven weeks.

A Masai Warrior who worked at the Leisure Camp we stayed  at for Safari.

         Anyway,  I am half-way through my time here in Kenya, and my emotions are mixed, part of me keeps pulling my mind to Kenya and their continuous needs and the other part of me is starting to emotionally prepare for my departure.
         I am totally integrated into the Kenyan lifestyle and these people are so gracious, loving, and protective.
       It feels like they would lay down their life for me, they are that loving.
      And it is genuine.
      The thought of integrating back into America with its culture is already scaring me. I will never be the same person as the one that left in May.


Editor's note: Knapton is on a three-month mission to Kenya. She is writing about her experiences here each week.

Derby special ed director travels to Africa

3-month mission to assist teachers at school in Nairobi

Lois Knapton

My name is Lois Knapton and I am the Special Education Director in Derby Public Schools.

I am privileged to have an opportunity to go live for three months in Nairobi, Africa and share my special education knowledge base with a country that does not even acknowledge disabilities or have any laws regarding them.
My job here in America is to advocate for students with disabilities, assuring they get the education they deserve. 

 In Kenya, if you are disabled, you are lucky to stay alive. I will be spend three months working alongside staff and students of a private school called Missions of Hope. 

   It was founded in 2000 by Mary Kamau. She had a dream of building a school in the largest slum in Africa, the Mathare Valley. It is three miles long and one- half mile wide and houses over one million people. There is no sewer and no running water.
 Until  you have witnessed this kind of poverty firsthand,  you simply cannot imagine it. No words describe it.  But there is hope.... The school started with 50 children and has grown to more than 7,000.
        So how did I get this opportunity?  I went a missions trip with 24 other educators, last summer, with my church from New Haven. I loved it so much, I wanted to go back. When Missions of Hope called and asked me to come back, I was elated.  But this time I am going alone. I'll have support when I get there.
 I will be posting a weekly blurb and photo, describing the trip from the inside. Please follow my weekly blog as I embark on this profound life-changing experience.

Note: The above was provided by Knapton, who left Friday for a 24-hour trip to Africa. Stay tuned for updates as she writes about her experiences.