Teacher Gives Gift of Hope, English Lessons to Children in Tijuana

Some call them “los sucios,” or “the dirty ones.” Children in a Tijuana dump pick through the garbage and refuse, side by side with scrawny pigs and other scavengers. Yet despite their bleak environment, the children’s dirt-smeared smiles reflect warmth, spirit and resiliency.

When David Lynch, 33, a New York special education teacher, first came to Colonia Pan Americana, a Tijuana dump settlement, the children’s aspirations were low: “If I make it through elementary school, I’ll work in the dump.” Today, children dream about becoming pilots, teachers, boat crewmen, secretaries, cooks, bus drivers, airline ticket agents.

Lynch seeks to break the cycle of poverty stifling these youngsters’ futures. He offers a rare commodity--hope--and English is the children’s ticket out.

“Parents say that learning English is most important for their children to get a good job,” Lynch said.

Lynch teaches both spoken and written English, encourages children to attend Mexican public school, and offers new cultural experiences undreamed of before his arrival.

Takes Kids on Trips

“I want to show these children there’s a world out there, to go for it,” said Lynch, who, through private donations and group sponsorships, has taken small groups of children on trips outside Mexico. Last Christmas, Lynch took four students on a trip as “special guests of New York City” to his family’s home on Long Island.

As he shared American customs and his family with them, students experienced airplane travel, ice skating, swimming in an indoor pool, and big-city hustle-bustle. They even met privately with Cardinal John J. O’Connor at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

“I was so choked up I couldn’t talk,” Lynch said.

The Big Apple responded with free dinners at restaurants, special desserts and newspaper coverage.

Later groups visited Sacramento and San Francisco, and repeat trips are planned. Students must have studied with him for at least a year, be older than 11 and be enrolled in Mexican public schools.

Six days a week, Lynch drives up a rock-strewn road, then down into a valley to reach this settlement of 55 families, 350 people. The children race to meet him, calling out “Da-vid (Dah-veed)!”

“Isabella! How are you?” Lynch shouts to a small child hurrying tight-rope style across a heavy wood beam spanning a deep ditch. The child pauses, mid-step, to giggle and shout back, “Fine thanks, and you?”

Filth and Bright Colors

Behind her stretches a collage of brightly painted one-room shelters amid shacks of cardboard and wood. Their roofs are anchored with tires, and tiny yards are rimmed by fences of rusting mattress coils, boards and wire. Discarded aluminum, glass and cast-off furniture lie everywhere, and earthy smells of mud, manure and trash mingle. Beyond lies the pastel-hued tranquility of the Tijuana hills.

Lynch first came to Mexico as a volunteer in summer, 1980, returning again in the summers of 1981 and 1982. Then 2 1/2 years ago, he took a leave of absence from teaching on Long Island and, with $15,000 in donated funds ($5,000 from the Sisters of the Holy Child), came to work in a Tijuana orphanage, as a mediator in a Tijuana prison, and in the dump, where only 40% of the school-age children were enrolled in public school.

Working with four other volunteers, Lynch’s first classes were seat-of-the-pants adventures held outside.

“The children came to us easily. They were so anxious to do something, because in the dump there isn’t much to do. Learning was something different for them,” Lynch said.

By the end of that year, Lynch was hooked. He requested a second year’s leave of absence. “I just couldn’t leave those children,” Lynch said matter-of-factly, with the quiet commitment that has led him to offer practical assistance--food, medicine, clothing--far beyond his teaching.

By 1984, on his own now, Lynch decided to dedicate his energies full time to the people in Colonia Pan Americana. One of the families built a room onto their house with a cement floor and said to Lynch, “This is your school.” Excited children raced home to bring their parents back to see new folding chairs donated by a Pacific Bell employee. Pacific Bell also donated some blackboards. When necessary, the multi-use room becomes a funeral parlor, community meeting room and pinata factory.

Everyone Gets a Ride

Ordinarily, when Lynch holds “school,” he collects waiting children in his van. “Even the ones who live just a few houses away want to jump in and ride!” On this day, he conducted a walking tour for his visitors as he rounded up the children.

“This is Coco, she’s my youngest, just 3,” said Lynch, greeting a small, brown-haired, grime-covered girl. “Once, she found an egg for the family to eat. She’s very smart.” Coco grinned and held out three fingers to mark her age.

Lynch pointed to an angry bruise on another child’s shoulder. “He fell,” explained Lynch. “I’m concerned, but he says, ‘I’m fine! I’m fine!’ I think he’s afraid I won’t let him go on the New York trip.” (Lynch left Monday for New York City with five students.)

Farther down the muddy lane, 5-year-old Carlos, barefoot in spite of the blustery cold and wearing a flimsy blue sweatshirt and red pants, shyly slipped his hand into Lynch’s. Carlos’ family moved in last week.

By now, Lynch’s “Time for class!” has telegraphed through the dump, and the primero and segundo (first- and second-grade) classes have swarmed into the schoolroom. The children wait eagerly, but quietly.

“I’m strict with them, but the children have a lot of respect for me,” Lynch said. “I admire that they are able to survive. They respect me for coming down to help them.”

Lynch’s teaching is spontaneous, as he moves from English greetings to colors and counting. Especially pleased with one shy girl’s response, he said, “Let’s applaud Erika.”

“We’re painting Christmas trees today,” he announced. The children stream out into the courtyard, spreading tagboard on dilapidated benches. An upended oil drum becomes a table. Students lacking brushes dip their fingers into the paint to fashion triangular trees with blobs of blue, red and yellow for ornaments.

Something New for Them

“They haven’t painted much,” Lynch said. “It’s not the sort of thing they do at school. Someone just gave us these paints and the tagboard.”

As the 20 or so children paint, chickens peck at the dirt, now stained with rivulets of green paint. Cats and dogs lounge on old chairs. One striking girl with long copper-red hair stands on the periphery, not quite containing her curiosity about the visitors and the painting project.

Thoroughly engrossed, young Coco daubs the bright colors onto her paper (and her face) with her fingers. Her wildly colorful Christmas tree fills a poster board as tall as she is.

Cesar, with hat jammed to one side “Our Gang” style, clings shyly to his sister, until the photographer’s empty film canister coaxes the youngster into the project.

Newcomer Carlos stands before Lynch, wordlessly holding his Christmas tree painting high in the air for approval.

Lynch smiled, and said, “Muy bonito, Carlos.”

The project finished, the children left, proudly carrying their paintings home.

Isabella raced back to plant a kiss on Lynch’s cheek.

Lynch’s improvised school operates solely on donated items. With 81 students, Lynch constantly needs English books, paper, pencils, markers, crayons, sports equipment. “Anything for a school!”

His network of friends and supporters includes San Diego’s Orphan Kids Inc., Aid to Baja California, a North County farm, individuals around San Diego who collect food and clothing for him, and friends, relatives, and community groups that have financed the student trips. Each week, Lynch gathers 3,000 pounds of surplus food and other needed items for his families. Social organizations and church groups periodically visit various dump sites, bringing water, bathing supplies and blankets.

When Lynch first arrived, the people could not afford to celebrate Christmas. Today, organizations like OK Inc. and church groups bring Christmas to the dump: gifts, food and clothing.

Sticks With Teaching

Lynch’s focus remains on teaching the children. Three other volunteers joined him this year--Judy Campbell, Eva Materson and Bobbie Neff.

“The community wants a real school. The people would build it if I can raise the $2,500 needed to buy building materials,” Lynch said.

Despite relief efforts, life for dump families remains a struggle. A few beds, a table and chairs are the only furnishings. No electricity. No running water. No sewage system. Dirt floors and leaky roofs.

“When it’s raining outside, it’s raining inside,” said one mother.

Food is cooked over propane stoves, or outdoor fires. Water is scarce, and hygiene is poor. Drinking water is sold in 5-gallon jugs. With Lynch’s help, the community recently purchased a water truck, and people store water in rusty oil drums near their homes.

As dirty bandages on festering cuts attest, medical care is haphazard at best. In serious emergencies, two doctors in a Tijuana office see patients at no charge.

Most adults and children work in the dump, rummaging through the trash for metal, glass and discarded grocery store produce like so many carrion beetles. Here, every living thing scrounges for food--from humans, pigs and dogs, to rodents and insects. But there is a hierarchy.

“Before food goes to the pigs, it goes to the children,” Lynch said.

Young boys tear after trucks and cars rumbling into the dump. Children leap aboard, hoping to earn a few pesos unloading trash.

Hopeful signs do exist. In two instances, adults who have learned English have been able to get better jobs in Tijuana. And since Lynch came to the dump, 90% of the children have returned to or entered school.

“These children have nothing material, but they have a lot of love and warmth for their families,” Lynch said. “Everyone looks out for each other here. The people have accepted me. They consider me part of the community.

“I want to see that the children stop the cycle that they’re in. They’re starting with me.”