UMS: Change, Is It Really All That Bad?

Change: Is it really all that bad?
*An article I wrote and published in the school's bi-monthly publication.

Several years ago my husband and I were in Inner Mongolia, China on a development project, providing educational supplies to meagerly funded rural classrooms. The schools we adopted were in terrible shape. It was not uncommon to walk into uninsulated cinderblock rooms with broken windows, poorly hung blackboards, a few pieces of chalk and old wooden desks. Indoor plumbing was rare in rural schools, which meant that outhouses were a thing of the present, rather than a thing of the past.

Young children who lived too far to travel to and from school each day were able to board in dorms. Dorm conditions were even less desirable than the classrooms—small rooms with bunk beds, shabby blankets and coal burning stoves centrally located to provide heat. One would pray for a bunk in the middle of the dorm. Winter months in Inner Mongolia are bitterly cold and these rooms provided little shield from the elements.

Those in development work will tell you that one really needs to keep his/her sense of humor; otherwise, the conditions can start to get to you…especially when you know the difference. So, when driving from school to school, our team would look for reasons to laugh by telling each other funny stories in broken English (our Chinese partner spoke little English and we spoke even less Chinese).

Our Chinese partner and friend, whom we called John, is one of the most jovial guys we’ve ever met. On one of our long drives in Inner Mongolia, John told us a story that I will never forget. He claimed it was absolutely a true. I wasn’t there when it happened, so I had no choice but to believe him. The story goes something like this:

There was once an elderly Chinese lady from Inner Mongolia who spent the whole of her life growing and selling vegetables at a local market. This elderly lady had a daughter who, when of age, attended a distant boarding school. The elderly lady was very proud of her daughter, but of course, missed her dearly as the two saw each other very little throughout the girl’s youth.

Upon completion of high school, the girl did what all devoted Chinese daughters do—she returned home to care for her mother. The two quickly realized that they did not see eye-to-eye on everything, especially since one had received an education and the other had not. One such discovery came the first summer of the daughter’s return home. As was the custom while in school, the daughter made plans to go to a local bathhouse for her seasonal bath. The daughter had saved a few coins to pay for her mother and herself to bathe after a long winter.

When news came to the elderly lady that her daughter had made arrangements for the two of them to go to the local bathhouse, she immediately began to protest. “I will not go with you…I WILL NOT!” The daughter did not understand and responded by saying, “Well, of course you will, Mother. Everyone does it. Don’t you wish to be clean?” Once more the elderly woman declared adamantly, “I WILL NOT do it…I WILL NOT! One only bathes THREE times in her life—when she is born, when she marries and when she dies. I am NOT GOING TO DIE! I may be old, but I am not dead YET!”

The daughter, equally as stubborn as her mother, devised a scheme. One morning on their way to market, she tricked her mother into going to the bathhouse. When the elderly lady realized where she was, it was too late. Bath attendants were removing her outer clothing until all she had on was her long underwear (even the summers in Inner Mongolia are chilly!). Like an unhappy and protesting child, she fought, kicked and screamed: “You can’t do this to me! STOP! STOP! STOP! You can’t dooooo this to meeeee!”

Before the elderly woman knew it, her bath had ended and she was leaving the bathhouse with her daughter. At first she was very angry with her daughter, but when she finally calmed down, she began to notice how nice her body felt to be clean. “Mother, how do you feel?” asked her daughter. “I feel like a new woman,” she said. Thank you for tricking me into bathing. I wish I had done this years ago!” And, from that summer forward, the elderly woman never missed a seasonal bath…nor the wonderful feeling of being clean. The End.

And the moral of the story? For us, there are two. First, may we never forget how wonderfully blessed we are to have such a beautiful campus where our children are able to attend school. And, secondly, change can actually be a good thing. It may not always feel comfortable at the time, but ultimately, change can bring new beauty and joy to us.

When my daughter first came to Undercroft, driving through carpool and releasing her into the very capable hands of someone other than myself, was one of the hardest things I had ever done. In fact, it was hard every day for a while. Each time she whined, “Mommy, I don’t want to go to school,” for a brief moment, I wondered if I had pushed her to go to school too early. I had to keep reminding myself, “No, Kathy. You made the right decision. She is doing well and is in the very best place. Trust the process.” I am so glad I made that decision (many times over, might I add). It was a major change in our lives that eventually led me to where I am today.

Perhaps you are one of those parents who questions your decision to send your child to a private school. My encouragement to you is to watch and wait. Come to the observation room (or schedule a time in the classroom) and see your child at work. Observe how truly joyful he or she is while immersed in meaningful work, and just how much everyone in classroom community truly matters. I’m confident this will calm your questions just as it did mine.

If we’re honest, few of us enjoy change at the time of it’s happening, but when things are all said and done, often we look back and wonder why all the fuss. Change is like a nice warm bath after a long cold hard-working winter…oh so refreshing and NECESSARY.

Let change do its thing. It may just surprise you.