The smile of accomplishment speaks louder than letters

The elusive “I”—a source of frustration and focus, and, ultimately, a small but meaningful victory for an eighth-grader learning to type.

Gabriela looks frustrated. That darned “I” button on the keyboard is just never where she wants it to be, and every time she misses, the typing tutor program puts another big, red, obnoxious “X” on the screen.

She’s 10 minutes into her almost mandatory hour of weekly typing practice and every time she completes a lesson, the program’s analytical statistics of her performance keep getting worse.

Her discouragement is increasingly apparent with each mistake.

During a recent Zoom call with a new missioner candidate, I was asked, “What in mission keeps you going? What feeds you heart?” For reasons I’ll explain in a minute, Gabriela and students like her were my answer.

Gabriela is in eight grade and is one of five “Tercer Ciclo” (the rough equivalent of middle school) students participating in my pilot program of computer classes for teens. Along with the mandatory hour and half lessons, they are also highly encouraged to come to the library for an extra hour a week to practice their typing.

Much to my delight, and in all honesty, surprise, they all have been diligent about attending both the classes and extra practice hours. Usually, all five of them do the practice hour on Friday afternoons, but Gabriela couldn’t make it the week before, so she’s here by herself on a Monday.

She’s a fairly serious-minded, independent girl and has shown a lot of interest in classes, so it worried me as I watched her continue to struggle.

After I have her repeat a lesson or two to try and improve her number to no avail, I observe her hands and notice some bad habits she’s developing in her technique. (Years of coaching soccer really helps me identify physical technique errors even in something as simple as typing. You never know what skills will become useful in unforeseen ways in mission.)

Right after making the corrections, another student shows up to get some practice in, and then three girls from the kindergarten come in, wanting to play a computer game I taught them earlier.

With five students in the room, there’s less time to focus on Gabriela, but I can tell she’s doing better. I also make a point to be positive with her and give her a high-five as her numbers keep improving.

When I tell her that her hour is up and she can go home if she wants, she chooses to stay for another 15-20 minutes. Before she continues, I realize that we have a good teaching moment here.

Too often, in communities like El Cedro, kids lack the mentorship needed to understand how perseverance pays off and how when something is difficult, you don’t just immediately quit.

So, I sit next to her, look her in the eyes, and ask her (in Spanish, of course):

“You were pretty frustrated in the beginning, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you feel now?”

“I feel good.” She says with a smile on her face.

“Do you feel proud of yourself?”

“Yeah.” The smile grows.

I continue to explain that you can’t get that proud feeling without struggling first. I tell her that when something is difficult, we should ask for help and keep trying instead of getting frustrated and giving up. I tell her that this can work in any area of her life.

After years of working with teens, I know that you never really know what’s sinking in and what’s not. Especially when it comes to character-based lessons. From her eye contact, smile, and overall attitude, however, I think (I hope) at least a small seed was planted.

Once the other student finishes his hour, we all leave the library to go home. Gabriela leaves the computer room with more enthusiasm than usual. We end up on the same bus heading up the hill to the main road.

When she gets off the bus, I watch her and still see that smile on her face.

The smile of someone who feels like she accomplished something.

I didn’t have a mirror on me. But I have a feeling I had the same smile on my face too.