Ramon Arscott, Contributor
Dr Ramon Arscott (in jacket) along with some of the boys who graduated from the Kingston Restoration Company project. The majority of boys were subsequently accepted in high schools. - Contributed
I was told that I was assigned to pure 'bad man' and 'rude girl'. However, the images I conjured up with such descriptions didn't fit the people who sat before me. I had just completed 'A' Levels, had a deferred entry into the University of the West Indies (UWI) and sought to fill the year by teaching. Fate channelled me not to the Corporate Area schools but to the Kingston Restoration Company (KRC). It was a mid-September morning of 1999, and they were launching a remedial educational programme at the community centre in Southside. It was primarily for 12-to17-year-old inner-city youths who had dropped out of the formal education system. KRC got some schools to agree to take these students if we could get them to pass a third form-level exam after a year. My job was to teach them all that was necessary to clear this hurdle.
Reasons for no schooling
The reason behind each student not being in school varied from truancy to war at school. My quietest, notably brightest student, on his own since 14, was a gang leader and had allegedly already taken two lives. The paradox I found was that he was respectful, never caused a stir in class, and always did the work assigned. To me, it didn't fit. Parent-teacher contact was non-existent, despite some parents being actively summoned. Broken homes, the influence of dons and falling into a niche of society with a paucity of opportunity were commonalties. The shock I got came as I gained their trust. Constant positive feedback, and striking the balance between establishing friendships with them while maintaining authority, were key. In time, I saw their transition from scepticism to enthusiasm for school and for life.
Academia was coupled with vocational and sporting activities to foster growth and social adjustment. It would require writing a book to describe the intricacies of that transformational year in my life, to relate the impact the students had on me, and I on them. All were accepted to schools at the end of the year. Not all stories had a happy ending, as I learned of gang violence claiming the life of one a few years later. There are those who stayed the course once you had steadied the ship. My most ecstatic moment was randomly running into one student in early 2006 at UWI where KRC was funding his first degree.
The fact that I only ever felt warmth and acceptance in Southside affirms the belief I still hold today that the core of these often-demonised inner-city communities is inherently good. Earlier, media reports of sporadic volatility, historical accounts of the 'Gold Street Massacre' of 1980 and the influence of politics on the rift between Southside and Tel-Aviv were my only threads of exposure to a place along with other garrisons - a community you avoid if you are from upper St Andrew.
Learning process
I learned so much from the students. The notion that I was able to touch even a few lives has convinced me that our society can be turned around with a galvanised effort. Sincere care, encouragement and a support structure through human contact, not handouts, are the integral ingredients our youths need. It's everyone's responsibility to reach out to those on the fringes of society in a personal way. Until then, we'll be passively contributing to our crime, socio-economic woes and living in fear. Senator Barack Obama recently said to the American people, "We are the change we've been waiting for." I believe those words also ring true in our island of Jamaica. Let's make it happen.
Dr Ramon Arscott worked for one year with KRC in Rae Town. He is trained in conflict management and has completed medical school at UWI and is now at Oxford on a Rhodes scholarship.
