Читать книгу Shéri - Shéri Brynard - Страница 11

Sometimes people ask me whose idea it was to send me to college. It’s not the kind of thing that people usually suggest for those with Down Syndrome.

It is a long story, and a very sad one, that worked out well.

One afternoon while I was still at school – I really cannot remember how old I was – I noticed a nursery school, Smiley Kids, opposite my grandmother’s cottage in Serenitas Retirement Village. The kids were playing and shrieking and laughing. There and then I decided that, one day, I wanted to work there.

I later told my mother about this dream. She always tries to help make my dreams come true; that’s why she made sure that we flew over the Valley of Kings in Egypt in a hot air balloon. My mother and sisters were part of that dream come true.

The dream to work with small children never went away. Just before I finished school, my mother asked Nella van Heerden, the principal of Smiley Kids, whether I could help out in the afternoons and during holidays.

I worked there for quite a while, and I really enjoyed the kids. After I completed Grade 10 at Martie du Plessis, I started working there on a full-day basis. It gave me a reason to get up in the mornings.

But then something happened that changed my whole life. One morning, while I was dressing to go to work, my mother told me that the school had phoned. I was not welcome there any longer. One of the parents had complained that I had hit her child on the head with my water bottle. We were just playing and the bottle was made of plastic. The child had laughed and it wasn’t anything serious.

But I knew the parent had complained because of the way I look and the way I am. I felt so stupid. My father was very upset that someone would do something like this to his little girl. That morning he cried with me. My mother’s face turned white, and she said that I should accompany her to work. She promised that she would make a plan to help me.

It was also a sad day at her office because it was the day that the teachers college was closing after 100 years. My mother and her colleagues were crying, and all the more because I’d also lost my job.

When that parent complained about me, it felt as if no one besides my family cared for me. And I realised that there were people who did not like me, just because I looked different.

That afternoon, the Smiley kids principal phoned and said that she’d had a meeting with the staff and parents and that they’d decided that the parent concerned could remove her child from the school, but that they did not want me to leave.

My mother really appreciated the gesture; she even cried because of their kindness, but she did not want to do that to the school, and she thought that I should rather enrol for a course on how to be a nursery-school assistant. Her logic was that if I had the right knowledge, people would not be so quick to treat me badly. I also told her that I’d like to qualify as a nursery-school assistant.

My mother phoned Adri Swanepoel of Motheo College, the department head of the Educare programme. My mother told her that I’d completed Grade 10, and she agreed to give me a chance at the college.

I was the only person like me there, among many students of many culture groups, but I was used to looking different to other young people.

The English classes were difficult, but I persevered because I wanted to achieve my dream. I started as an N2 student. With a lot of hard work and many prayers, I completed my matric, an N3 course, and then I did the Educare course up to N6. I had to do the same work as all the other students and no one could help me, because the exam papers were not set or marked at the college.

After my father died at the end of my first college year, I did not pass any of my subjects. I felt so bad and I thought that I’d never be able to recover from the setback. My mother then asked Heloise Pretorius, who had studied teaching, to help me for an hour twice a week in the afternoon. After my dad passed away, my mother did not have time to help me. She worked the whole day and my sisters also needed her.

All my notes and my lecturers were English. But I made wonderful friends and the mother of one of them, Liezel Reyneke, translated our notes into Afrikaans. I began to thrive. It helped when I understood the work. It was an advantage that I could write my class tests, big test series and exams in Afrikaans. I then found the courage to carry on and I started feeling better about myself. To eventually pass my course was the best feeling ever, maybe because it wasn’t easy.

It was a hard, tough time for this Down Syndrome girl, but I also enjoyed it tremendously. My subjects were Business Afrikaans, Business English, Child Health and Didactics. I especially liked the practical part. The best was that I learned how to present to a class. I had to prepare various lessons, like a creative lesson of drawing or working with glue, Bible study, music and story lessons. This was how I learned the tricks of the trade of being a nursery school assistant.

I also had a lot of fun during my student years. I will always cherish those experiences. When it was someone’s birthday, we had a party. And when someone achieved good marks, we celebrated their success.

One weekend a friend from class, Lanel Pietersen, invited Riana Venter and me to their family farm. They treated me as one of them and I did not feel “different”. It was very special. My time at the college made me very independent. Although later on most of the students and lecturers were Sotho speaking, I felt part of them and I got the impression that they accepted me. No one was ever nasty to me because of the way that I am.

As part of my course, I had to do practical teaching at nursery schools. In 2002 I started working at Lettie Fouché to gain experience. I presented lessons using apparatus I’d made when I was studying.

In 2009 I graduated with a National Diploma in Educare from Motheo College, and received the Ewald Fichard Special Academic Award.

Down Syndrome South Africa awarded me its most prestigious prize, for achieving the highest academic qualification in the country by someone with Down Syndrome. The prize was presented to me by Helen Zille, premier of the Western Cape.

The evening before my graduation ceremony, my mother threw me a cocktail party. Suzette and some of her friends played the violin, and my mom said a few words. When she proposed a toast, she added that she’d used some of her inheritance for a present for me. Then she left the room to get it.

I could hardly wait for the surprise. The next minute, Marisa walked through the patio door. My mother had flown her home from London!

That night, Jaco Lamprecht came to one of our special family functions for the first time. He and Suzette had just started dating.

The graduation ceremony was a dream event. The people on stage and everyone in the City Hall in Bloemfontein gave me a standing ovation because I was the only person with Down Syndrome in South Africa to receive a national diploma. I looked at the crowd and saw my mother crying. All the hard work had paid off.