In the sweltering San Juan heat, that made a mockery of the two mini fans in the room, three mothers sobbed simultaneously when confronted with the hypothetical.
As the voices of children chorused into a somewhat lacklustre rendition of Bah Bah Black Sheep, indicating their longing for the approaching lunch break, the weeping women explained why the special education school we were sitting in was as precious to the community as running water.
A powerful beacon of hope standing modestly along Prizgar Road, it is also a light that could be extinguished if not for urgent intervention.
Trying to compose herself, Ria Lucas, mother of a seven-year-old girl with cerebral palsy, explained how the Topaz Educentre Private School transformed the child’s life both physically and academically.
“She could not spell her name. She could not identify letters and now you are seeing the progress a lot, when I tell you a lot, a lot,” she said with tears streaming down her face.
Motioning with her hands to a folding walker which leaned against a nearby wall, the 34-year-old Saddle Road mother added, “She’s even in the process of learning to walk, she’s seven years of age, never walked before.”
Lucas said that public school failed her daughter. Guardian Media questioned what would happen if her daughter could no longer attend the institution.
“It would really impact me a lot because I don’t think I would put her in another school. I think I might keep her home and maybe find a homeschool teacher to deal with her. This is the only school that cater for kids like my daughter in this community.”
Sitting beside her was Ama Joseph. Her son is autistic. She too burst into tears when asked what her options would be if the school was no more.
“If I don’t have this option, I would have to keep him home. Some sort of schooling at home, I would try my best,” she said.
Carol Barrimond-Dedrick, another mother of a child at the school chimed in, “Seeing this institution having to close, it’s unimaginable for me, we would be devastated.”
Looking on with a mixture of pride and sorrow was the founder of the school Iseha Lopez-Nagessar.
Opening a door with a colourful sign emblazoned with the word “Welcome”, the 43-year-old teacher with a degree in special education gave Guardian Media a tour of the humble five-room facility.
A class was in session in the first room. We had inadvertently interrupted a teacher whose lesson that day dealt with important days of the year in Trinidad and Tobago. This class is for older students. Some with autism, some with cerebral palsy, but all engaged and enthused.
“What day is coming up on the 19th of June class?” the teacher asked loudly.
Some hands flew up but others dismissed classroom etiquette and shouted out, “Labour Day!”
Lopez-Nagessar explained that these children are being taught the government school curriculum and it is her hope they will soon write the Secondary Entrance Assessment (SEA) examination.
Asking what was the cathartic moment that put her on the path to starting a school for children with special needs, Lopez-Nagessar explained that she used to look after children at her Laventille Road home as a sort of after-school centre.
“When I realised the children weren’t coping too well in the public system, I tried assisting them. They were very comfortable with me. When they came from school, they used to talk about how bad their day was, I realised I can make an impact in these children’s lives and they are getting results,” she said proudly.
In another room adorned with charts and graphs of what you would expect in any school setting, a younger group was giving us their rendition of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.
Lopez-Nagassar added that the school gets results due to their unconventional methods.
“With special needs in particular, I got to realise to communicate with everybody is different. If they want to sit on the floor to write and if that is how you get them to write and read, you have to go and sit on the floor with them. When we can go down to their level, that is what they can gravitate to,” she said.
With 25 students enrolled, Lopez-Nagessar said they’re able to get individual attention that transcends mere academics.
“Teaching is not always about just teaching. It’s about actually knowing the child. Why is it that child is not coping? There are some children who would not have food, who may not have lunch, they may be hungry and maybe the child is hungry and unable to learn,” she said.
In the noisiest and last classroom in the building, we were immediately greeted with a huge hug from one of the children. This was the classroom for non-verbal autistic children. Lopez-Nagessar explained that through music and videos, the children are now able to identify numbers and letters which are painted on the classroom’s wall.
Joggling having a heart, running a business
But glancing at her faux leather chairs, torn up with sponge spilling out, Lopez-Nagessar said the San Juan/Laventille community that she serves is not home to financially well-off people.
“If that child does not have a uniform, I try. If a child does not have lunch, I try with the same money that I am being paid,” she said.
However, Lopez-Nagessar said due to financial difficulties, half of the parents of students do not pay on time. It is then left for her to balance having a heart and running what is essentially a business. For her, the heart wins to the detriment of her bottom line.
“If a parent comes and say, ‘miss I cannot pay my school fees on time this month’, how can I see that child and say, ‘keep them home then.’ The first thing they (parents) try to do when they do not have the money is not bring them out, or if the child has nothing to eat, they won’t bring them. And I say no, you can’t do that because I’ve made so much progress with the child and then I will have to start over,” she added.
According to a 2022 Central Statistical Office (CSO) report, with an average monthly household income of $2557, San Juan/Laventille is the third poorest regional corporation in Trinidad.
But Lopez-Nagessar’s benevolence can only keep her business buoyant for so long.
The Education Act Chapter 39:01 stipulates, “All private schools operating in Trinidad and Tobago must be registered with the Ministry of Education.” Topaz Educentre is not. Lopez-Nagessar lamented that a lack of fees and overall funding is hindering her from bringing the school up to code with respect to utilities and health and safety.
“I am trying to get there but it’s very hard. So, I strive to get it where the law wants it but, in the meantime, I think God is guarding and protecting me from people who want to come and shut me down,” she said defiantly.
Lopez-Nagessar said a corporate sponsor will go a long way in not only addressing their infrastructural needs but to help her expand in hiring more teaching aides to facilitate outdoor therapy sessions which are critical for children with special needs.
With respect to private sponsors, Lopez-Nagessar said she will provide them with exactly what they need via quotations from the supplier.
Admitting that she often weeps and asks God for the help to carry on for the sake of the children, Lopez-Nagessar sought to underscore the importance of her institution to a community challenged with crime and poverty.
“You see the crime that is taking place. Some of these could be committed by people who went undiagnosed, not taken care of, grow into a big man and woman and end up in crime. Anyone ever thought it may be an autistic adult who is raping and murdering out there?” she posited.
Anyone wishing to assist Lopez-Nagessar with the school can contact her at 797-7313.