Amazing News!

On Thu, Feb 11, 2010 at 4:04 AM, Anthony Rosero wrote:

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Steve Vinton <steve.vinton@villageschools.org>
Date: Thu, Feb 11, 2010 at 3:00 AM
Subject: Every single one of our students passed!
To: Susan Vinton <susan.vinton@villageschools.org>

February 9, 2010 Two days ago Godfrey began getting messages of congratulations and phone calls from around the country concerning the rumors that were spreading everywhere about the national exam results for our Form 4 candidates. But it was not until yesterday that we were able to get the official results that indeed every single one of our students had passed! We've been holding our breath, hoping that the rumors might be true, but wary of celebrating because what people were saying seemed to be too wildly good to really be true. But now that it has been confirmed, it is with a great deal of thanksgiving that we want to share with all of you who have helped in this effort the great news that a rather extraordinary thing has indeed happened. The first of our schools to ever present candidates for the Form 4 examinations outperformed by wide margins every government school in our district and the celebrations going on everywhere are massive indeed. Had even a handful of these kids passed it would have been, by any standard, quite an achievement. After all, the government chooses all of the best students every year from among the kids who finish the primary schools. Our schools are designed to take all of the rest -- we take the kids with the Bs, Cs, Ds. We even take the kids who have failed and our doors are open to the orphans, to the poorest of the poor. Our schools are for those who have been rejected and passed over, those who are known here in Tanzania as "the unchosen ones" -- and we purposefully seek out the poorest of the poor, the kids who have lost their parents, those who are in the most difficult of straights, who have often been out of school several years. So when vast numbers of those in the government schools designed for the best of best end up failing, it would only be reasonable for most, if not all, of our kids to fail. As one government official said, if even a mere quarter of our students had passed it would have to, under the circumstances, be considered a real miracle. So what do we call it when every single last one of them passes? All you can do is laugh and cry and jump and dance and that's what everyone is doing, because it simply is unexplainably wonderful. I have often asked myself what it would be like if I had been born poor in a village, if my parents died when I was still young, if I weren't among the chosen few who would get to go to secondary school and I had to face a life with nothing more than a 7th grade education, with younger brothers and sisters to try to help survive. There are many times of course when I've asked God to help me, but I only remember twice in my life crying out to God in utter helplessness because I felt totally trapped with absolutely no way out. Once was during the war in Congo, and once when Jonathan was born with his heart problems that looked totally hopeless -- and I remember the exhilaration afterwards when God had heard the cries of my utterly desperate heart. I remember both times my whole body going hot and cold at the same time. Years ago at a conference I explained to people that one of the things I learned after living so many years with the poor of this planet is that they often cry out in utter helplessness somehow believing that God will open a way where there is no way, believing that God will somehow answer, because they simply have no other option. My faith unfortunately ends up by comparison becoming weak because I am so self-sufficient in many ways that just like muscles that I seldom use, my faith atrophies and I miss the exhilaration of watching God do the impossible. And so I imagine the cries of the poor in these villages who see no way out of their situation, simply no hope. And then out of nowhere, the bombs and the guns stop, the doctor tells us the surgery has been successful, the child sees his whole village work to build a school and suddenly he has a place to study. And so yes, our teachers do teach harder, we do have discipline at our schools, we do teach Christian principles, we do concentrate on English, we do do everything we can and more to help these kids. But just as there is something that changes inside of the man who doesn't die in a war, something that changes inside of a parent whose son lives, there is also something that changes inside of a kid who never believed he'd get to go to school and then inexplicably gets to go. Last night we slept in the village of Kising'a. Later this morning after the sun comes up we'll meet with the parents and the students and teachers at this school. But last night I got to meet with one of our students who is doing his internship at this school. I had of course seen the results, I knew that his school had beat out all of the government schools, and I knew that he was the one who had graduated first in his class. But I said nothing then of his results because we were here lost in the middle of nowhere and word had not yet reached this village and so he didn't even know that I knew. So I limited myself to just asking him how the internship was going. He beamed as he told me of how he loved to teach math. He told me how he had the students come after school to do extra math problems with them. He was clearly so excited to teach. Where do you come from son? He told me that the name of his little village was Ikwega and I knew it was quite far actually from our school at Sawala. Why did you come all the way to Sawala to go to school? I failed, I didn't get chosen, but I wanted very much to go to school. Your parents? They're farmers Mzee. I knew it was a huge sacrifice for them to send their son to school. He stared at me and I stared back at him. How proud his parents are going to be when they learn that their son, the boy who wasn't chosen to get to go to school, would end up confounding everyone with his amazing results! You could tell looking into his eyes that he was bright. He had that look. And how I wanted to blurt out the news right then and there and let the celebrations begin! Instead, we talked about what he wanted to do in the future. If I get to go to college Mzee, I want to study economics and then I want to help Village Schools Tanzania reach our goal. Our goal. How wonderful it was to hear that. You know over the last two weeks the results for the Form 2 exams have dribbled in and brought us all great joy. In Godfrey's home village of Nankanga, every single student had passed and the school had taken third place in the entire Rukwa region. Susan almost cried when she learned that all of our Form 2 students at Madisi had passed. Overall out of 516 Form 2 students in our 8 schools, we had 490 pass -- 95%. But those Form 2 national exams, as important as they are, are not the real benchmark. What schools are measured by are the results of those who finish -- those who obtain their Certificate of Secondary School Education -- and while the wonderfully printed certificates won't come for months -- the fact that 133 out of 133 of our students will receive their certificates is a matter to marvel at. So my friends, please know that your efforts in helping us build these schools, in giving so that girls, and orphans and the poorest of the poor in these villages get to go to school, have not been in vain, and I write to you all today with sincere thanks. Those who have a chicken will kill a chicken tonight, but even those who have no chicken will celebrate in their hearts tonight. For a great and good thing has come to the students of Madisi and Sawala. But as word spreads throughout all of our other schools, it is clear that this victory is the victory of all of those who were without hope, those in village after village who rejoice today with the knowledge that if the students at Madisi and Sawala could do this, then there is hope for them, there is hope for their children. So all of you who have had a part in this, sometime in the next couple of days, maybe you don't have to kill a chicken, but you can find something a wee bit more culturally appropriate to do to celebrate wherever you are -- celebrate and know that the Lord has taken what you did and blessed it and multiplied it and caused it to bear great fruit. You did something good for those who used to have no hope.

Steve & Susan Vinton

Village Schools International

Box 1929 Tomball Texas 77377

www.villageschools.org