Kids crowded around, grabbing my hands and hollering to each other about the gori—white person. I felt like their pet as five or six latched on to me and dragged me around while moms and grandmas looked up from peeling corn or grinding flour. Some of them smiled, but most looked exhausted, discouraged, burnt-out, and kids ran around in various states of undress. Poverty is something we usually don’t want to think or talk about. It is too sad and too uncomfortable for people who have the luxury of reading these lines and not care about if they will eat tonight, where they will sleep or if they will wake up in the morning.
This place is Pholwaee where I encountered abundant cultural and linguistic diversity. This minority of people had become marginalized and isolated because of linguistic barriers. This community are socially, economically, and politically excluded and impede the children chances of succeeding and exacerbates social inequality. Recognizing minority languages as part of a country’s cultural make-up considerably changed my experiences and attitudes in education. I realized that we had to combat adult illiteracy; language recognition was a key strategy and that every language has its own importance.