The schools here are not like the public education in the United States. Sure they call it public, but it’s public in the old British sense… that means public if you can afford it. Poor children in India work the streets. And if the poor take their children off the streets they lose that income. I tried to rationalize it in my mind, ‘Could you totally blame people whose families were deemed untouchable for generations for not knowing how to afford a different way of life?’ And although India’s caste discrimination is changing, the wounds are still healing. Most of the underprivileged are still the lower castes. And I don’t know exactly how to respond to the situation, it seems so big and beyond me.
I had yet to understand exactly why I was in India. I knew something called me; I just wasn’t sure exactly what. There was something I was meant to see, something I was meant to do, but I would not chase it. I knew that it would be brought to me, surely as I was brought to India, unexpectedly and happily. But I do know that as I spoke with the children, as I watched the footage of them chasing down Kevin’s car, my heart called out to me, and I wonder how much of a role India’s forgotten children had in our visit.
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