博爱中心 The Center of Charitable Love

Today I was able to sneak away from "the compound," and forget about myself for a couple hours. Bus 13 from right outside of our campus provided the escape, and dropped myself, Caleb (a friend from church), a couple Chinese friends from Nanjing University on another side of the city. After wandering through a maze of small, windy alleyways, we arrived at the door of a small 3 story building. It didn't look like much from the outside, but--as is so often the case--its true value was found within.

The 博爱中心 (bó ài zhōng xīn) or what I have translated as The Center of Charitable Love, was started in 2004 to provide specialized education and activities for those with various mental handicaps, and now has five locations throughout Nanjing. This specific location had what looked to me to be around 20 students, although I was told that a number of the students were off visiting the zoo.

When we first arrived, the doors were locked, and the metal gate chained shut. Soon, however, a very nice girl somewhere in her 20's came and let us in. I had expected the place to be packed, loud, and unavoidably messy. However, the first floor was empty, quite, and more in order than my own living quarters have ever been. We made our was up to the second floor, and saw that the students were split up into groups found within three different rooms; some were learning computer skills in the first room, a few were drawing in the second, and others in the third room were working on some handicrafts. Immediately, a cute girl with down syndrome came running out of a room and down the hall toward us. She was all smiles, and without the least bit of hesitation she put an arm around my waist and the waist of my friend next to me. It felt so nice to feel her love and be close to someone so pure. She almost stood on me she was so close, and it was so refreshing to be close to someone in such an embrace of innocent physical affection. To the world she is "handicapped," yet in her situation she was free to hug and hold hands with a complete stranger without any reservations as to race, culture, nationality, or sex. Between the two of us and our search for acceptance and love, who is truly handicapped?

As I think of her beaming face, I am reminded of the first down syndrome person I saw in China. He was barely clothed, dirty, a beggar, with a big smile on his sunburned face despite his humble situation and the mean looking man that seemed to be taking care of (or advantage of) his handicapped existence. I had always wondered what could be done to save others like him from such a fate, and was impressed at the answer given to me today from the clean, joyful, and carefully cared for friend with whom I shared my personal space.

One motto of the Center, is not to dwell upon their students disadvantages, but to accentuate and build upon their abilities. By doing so the students at the Center have learned to make beautifully intricate handicrafts. Since I could not do their crafts justice through any written description, I'll let a couple pictures do the talking.


Soon, other students were coming out and greeting us. Most were happy-go-lucky, some were extremely quite, and only one seemed to be a little more "cloudy" than the rest. After talking for a little while, we all moved downstairs, and the students sat at their appointed places around their desks. It was here that I realized there was only ONE teacher taking care of these 20 something special needs individuals (she was the nice girl in her 20's that had let us in). She controlled the class very well though. Unlike the soft and "friend-like" approach I had seen used in the States, she was very strict with the students, and did not tolerate too much rambunctiousness. Two years ago I might have thought she was being a little mean, but I now could see that she was expressing her care for her students by fulfilling her role as the teacher, which demanded her to correct them with sharpness rather than let them continue on in ways that would cause harm to themselves and the harmony of the class. The students also responded as the role of a loving student called for by obeying and respecting their teacher's orders. I was indeed impressed at how much mutual respect and love they had between themselves.

The funnest part was next, as all the students got to choose from the volunteers (there were about 15 students from Nanjing University already at the Center when we arrived) one person that would be their buddy when they went out to play. In turn, each would either yell out the name of a volunteer they had made friends with, or the more quite ones would just quickly jump out of their seats laughing, and grab the hand of their chosen partner. I was chosen quickly by an older (late 20's?), quite plump girl who jumped up and yelled "我要美国人！" or "I want the American!"
After they had lined up and sounded off at the door, their teacher yelled, "Ok students! Now what's the most important thing? You have to take care of your volunteer! They are your responsibility! You can't let anything happen to them! Got it?!" The students then yelled out in the affirmative, but we, the volunteers, all knew who she was really talking to.
We had fun playing outside with the students. We walked to a little park just down the street, and they all practiced hitting balls with their paddles (actually it is that Tai-Chi Ball thing that KT brought back from China), playing red light--green light, and just kind of letting loose. Some of the volunteers seemed clueless as to what they should be doing, while others were having a great time letting loose themselves. My buddy was always smiling, although she didn't have the motor skills or the attention span to hit the ball. Ha! It was actually sort of fun, because she would get all concentrated at throwing the ball up, but when she finally succeeded, she immediately looked over at someone else playing another game, and by the time the ball had come down she was already long gone. She was also probably the most positive person I have ever met. About 93% of all her sentences started with the words "我喜欢。。。” or "I like..." "I like you!" "I like that other volunteer!" "I like hitting this ball!" "I like red light--green light!" That last one was said as she was walking away from my attempt at getting her to actually PLAY red light--green light.
After about an hour of that, it was time to go back. Again we all lined up, and slowly caterpillar-ed our way back to the Center. It was funner on the way back though because they were all singing a popular song about a beautiful girl, but when the part came to sing the girls name, they would switch in each others names, to which everyone would laugh, and the person whose name had been switched in would get a little embarrassed and giggle.
When we had to leave they were a little sad to see us go, but they all asked us to come back soon. I was the last one out of the room, and one of the students in the back yelled out "GOOD MORNING!" At some point they must have all been taught that one word, because everyone got the "oh yeah! I remember that! I can say that too!" look on their faces, and everyone started yelling "GOOD MORNING! BYE BYE!" as I shook their hands and walked out of the room.
My favorite part of the whole experience though, was seeing the parents of the students waiting for them outside of the Center's doors. From their voiceless expressions, you could see how happy they were that their child's happiness was not being ignored, but instead that their child was making friends and touching lives . . . something they probably never thought possible when they first discovered their child's complications. I wanted to go up and shake the hands of each and ever parent, and tell them how amazing they were; both them AND their children. I wanted to let them know that there was much more to their child than we could see with our limited mortal vision. Instead, I practiced patience and faith, and prayed that somehow they would know, or be able to feel that message anyway.