The doorway to the school is understated. Plain and simple by design, the entry is known to a select few. For those enter, it’s a haven of opportunity.

The faces that fill the room come from the scattered, the marginalized, and the oppressed of the world. Refugee children, their parents fleeing poverty, horror, and war, are oblivious to the troubles behind them in this place.

A small private school in Amman, Jordan was born out of a pressing need. Sudanese refugees are continuing to pour into the surrounding neighborhoods, and the local church finds them as they settle into small apartments, often shared with fellow countrymen or family members. The church will bring necessities like food and propane. Most of all, they bring a smile and love and that starts the relationship.

Immigration laws prevent many of these refugees from working, preserving jobs for citizens. And schooling for the children is a tall order, as many of them come with educations interrupted by war or family crisis. This school helps fill the gap.

While these people are safe from the continuing strife in Sudan and South Sudan, their struggles are far from over.

Since the school opened three years ago, other struggling immigrants have found their way to the school, including Iraqis, Yemenis, Somalians, and Filipinos.

The school offers classes in English, Math, Arabic, Information Technology, and Art. They use material from the Jordanian school system, as well as other English and Arabic sources.

The principal has come from South Korea to help with the effort, moved by the reality of children lost in the shadows of refugee and immigration status and family disruption. “They often cannot go to traditional school, but children need to learn,” he said.

Because of the small size of the school, the students are separated into just four classes with a wide range of ages in each. Still, the teachers easily provide individual lessons.

IDEAS Associate Libby has helped the small school with books and guidance for their book collection. She’s been a regular visitor, offering encouragement to the staff, especially the Iraqi teen who has organized the library.

She recently arranged a trip to a library in downtown Amman. The children had never seen so many books in one location.

On this day, she sat in the English class with eight other children. They all got a chance to ask her a question – in English. “What do you do?” asked one boy.

“I help libraries and I train librarians. I am a ‘consultant,’” said Libby. There was some discussion around the room about how to translate the word into Arabic, but the group finally found the right word for “consultant,” and all the heads nodded.

Libby’s passion for access to books is legendary in this country. The students know her by name and are quick to hug and shout greetings. The teachers are grateful that she is helping grow their small collection.

One young boy, wearing a windbreaker hiding his broad shoulders, didn’t look like the reading type. But he stood tall when he announced to Libby that he had just completed The Count of Monte Cristo. The classic is just one of two books he has in his home. He counts them as friends.

A Sudanese young man of 14, full of personality and life, was enthusiastic about the library. “I want to read more, but I don’t always have books. If I had more books, I would read them.” And his admiration for Libby is obvious. “She is a good friend.”

A young, shy 17-year-old from Sudan spoke about her love of table tennis, playing at the local community center when she can. She embraces her English lessons and one day is hoping to be a doctor.

“I like it when I read a book,” she said. “It makes me so happy.”

The leadership of the school are grateful for Libby’s influence.

“Most of our books come from her,” said the principal. “Every morning we encourage the students to read. None of them have books at home, so this is a treat.”

The books are roughly shelved by category, and soon Libby will train some of the staff on how to maintain the system.

“We need help organizing the books, and Libby will be the one to teach us,” said one of the teachers at the school.  

Seven of the students recently received legal status and moved to the public school. “We are grateful we were there to help during the transition,” said the principal.

But for every joyful story, there are the heartbreakers.

One pregnant woman sat for hours in the entryway to the school, tending to two small preschoolers. Her two oldest children were in the school, learning. Her husband was currently finishing out a jail term, imprisoned for a month for illegally working without a permit. His release in the next few days would be followed by an expulsion to Sudan, leaving his family behind with no income opportunity.

Hope Academy’s principal is clear in his mission and honest about his challenges. “These children need hope, and that’s why we are here,” he said.

The leaders of the school take time to visit with the families in their homes to build trust through relationship. Some of the children have struck up friendships with the teachers and are having personal time with them asking questions and studying.

“We are seeing children’s lives change,” said one of the teachers. “Their attitudes are being renewed.”

While Libby can’t solve civil wars, immigration crises, or international struggles, she can provide books and encouragement to fragile souls and minds who one day will grow up and remember.

 

Author’s Bio: David Rupert is an IDEAS Associate and a Colorado-based writer who focuses on transformational, inspirational and impact storytelling. Click here for more stories of transformational love.