Today is an exciting day in class! In the construction corner, Hoa is building houses and making some roads with her friends. In the kitchen corner, Tùng, Khánh and their classmates are making bread to feed the construction group. At one point, Khánh even runs to Ms. Huệ’s spot to invite her to try a cake that they just prepared.
At the beginning of the school year, Ms. Tuệ accepted the Tall Seedling Class with 14 girls and 17 boys. At around five and six years old, they already understood a bit about their surroundings. The teacher asked them about their dream career. Some of them wanted to be doctors; some loved the idea of being astronauts. However, once, a boy said he wanted to be a homemaker, the class burst into laughter.
“Boys do not work as homemakers. At home, only my mom does that.”
Hearing those words, the boy withdrew.
Similarly, Ms. Tuệ used to think that boys should play games requiring strength and girls had to enjoy gentle and pretty games. At noon the boys with physical strength helped the teacher to arrange tables. In the afternoon, she assigned the boys to play at the construction corner while the girls played as traders, cooks, or played with dolls. No football was allowed among the girls.
“Girls should not play football!” she used to say that when the girls asked to go out and play with the active boys.
When she was a child, that was the rule and other teachers did the same with their classes. She used to think it was the right thing to do, until she joined a program to eliminate the education barriers at the preschool level with VVOB where gender barriers were mentioned. She realized that she had been thinking about the issue with the wrong perspective.
“It is true, I always taught my students about the policeman, fireman. But aren’t there policewoman, firewoman? Not only do women work as nurses or only men become doctors. Recently, was the doctor checking up on the students a woman?”
Ms. Tuệ finally understood that. So that day in class, she decided to let the students choose the play they wanted.
“Any boy who wants to play homemaker can help cook and take care of babies right here!” she said.
Many kids asked her: “How can boys be homemakers?”
She asked them: “Why don’t you think boys could be housekeepers?”
The children scratched their heads. One of them raised his hand: “At home, my father only reads newspapers, watches TV, goes drinking, or plays badminton. Only my mom does groceries, cooks, or takes care of babies.”
Ms. Tuệ explained gently, “May be you haven’t seen your father show his talent yet. In fact, everyone can do everything.”
From then on, when organizing activities, instead of splitting the students into male or female teams like before, Ms. Tuệ let her students choose where they wanted. Sometimes she would ask: “Hoa, do you want to try being an engineer?” Gradually, the kids get used to the idea that labor division is not necessarily based on their gender. Both girls and boys can do everything, and they grow closer and friendlier with each other. The little girls became more active physically and grew more assertive, while the boys practiced to be more meticulous and detailed with their tasks. Sometimes people questioned Ms. Tuệ why she let the boys play with dolls, and she would explain, “It might help them nurture their aesthetic taste or designing taste in the future. We should not restrain a child from their natural capability, let them explore their own traits.”
Her class becomes more exciting day after day. While a student named Khánh invites her to try “a baguette” he just made, she visits the construction corner and sees a whole new road lush with tree lines forming. A railroad is winding through an elegant and spacious space in the middle.
“Who built the railroad?” she askes. The group points at Hoa: “Hoa made it.”
Hoa turns on the engine. The train chuffs on the miniature railroads, venturing through its journey. In her mind, Ms. Tuệ quietly hopes that her students will be able to move toward their future confidently like that tiny train with no barrier or restraint.
From the story of Ms. Tuệ, a teacher from the BAMI Project
