The Full Story
My name is Tyson Malchow. I graduated from Hudson, Wisconsin in 2004, and continued on to pursue an engineering degree at the University of Minnesota. At heart, I'm truly an engineer. I take great pleasure in solving challenging problems, I thoroughly enjoy math, and have always hoped to become greatly “successful.” I dreamed of running a company, employing thousands, and earning millions.
Sometime during my sophomore year attending Minnesota, I was exposed to, infatuated with, and eventually addicted to the sport of kiteboarding. For those with no prior exposure to it, imagine crossing wakeboarding with windsurfing; you strap a board to your feet, attach yourself to a giant kite on hundred-foot ultra strong lines, and by steering the kite you create energy enough to propel yourself across water – even jumping to over 30 feet in the air. The experience could be – and has been – called anything from extreme and adrenaline driven to Zen-like.
The summer following my junior year of college, my love and addiction for the sport took me abroad. I searched for the least expensive exotic country that had a reputation for great wind. Shortly thereafter, I found myself with a beachside apartment on the sandy northern shores of the Dominican Republic, and I was in nothing short of paradise. Though I knew very little Spanish, the region had a large influx of English speaking Europeans – I definitely wasn't the only foreigner in search of good wind. A few other long-term beach-dwellers and I became good friends and my summer was made; perfect kiteboarding, great company, cheap food, and crazy nightlife. The only thing I was continuing to get annoyed with was my ignorantly small Spanish vocabulary.
I took the initiative and searched around the town, asking locals in the most proper Spanish a zero-year Spanish student could fragment together. Eventually, I was referred to a small school in one of the poorer neighborhoods of the town. At this point, perhaps a month into my stay, despite my growing understanding of the language, I still felt it prudent to get some one-on-one lessons to improve my grammar, and the school I was introduced to served perfectly. I met with the local who, with his wife and kids, ran the school. He worked year round, teaching language to foreigners in the summer to raise money for the small school to be able to support teaching local kids during the schoolyear.
One-on-one language is by far the best way to learn foreign language. It can also be a great way to get to know someone. After spending an entire month one-on-one at the school, I learned about the situation they were in. I learned about the status of the Dominican education system, why small private schools like theirs existed, and why they truly needed help.
The Dominican public education system is plagued with problems. Underfunded, understaffed, and underlooked, it's in a sad state. Despite nearly 80% of Dominican children attending, the public school system is often considered nothing more than a glorified "day-care," unable to provide its attendees more than only the most rudimentary discipline and education. In tune with the notably corrupt political system, many of the teachers in the public school system have been granted their jobs as favors by political figures or higher administration. This results in schools staffed with teachers that feel little obligation to the education of their students and as such, students are treated to teacherless days and structureless classes. Eigth and ninth graders who are unable to read and write are not unusal in the downward-tumbling public school system.
On the other hand, small privately run schools could address all of these problems. Classrooms never larger than twenty students, one-on-one help with each child, a disciplined and organized environment, and enthusiastic teachers all made private schools the obvious decision for any parent. The problem with private schools is, by virtue of being private, that they're not subsidized by the government, and therefore require their patrons to cover operational costs. In a poor Dominican community, this is often impossible for parents, who are forced to send their kids to public schools or, often, no school at all.
The school I happened upon was created for this very purpose. They're a nonprofit school, raising just barely enough money to keep it operational. For less than $20US a month, a student can attend full-time. And many times, students with families who cannot pay the entire amount are still allowed to attend. Foreign assistance has long since been a small but essential cornerstone to the school's meager budgeting.
During my stay, the school's principal explained to me how their outside financial support was drying up. Currently, it is able to sustain itself (barely), but the five additional classrooms that sit half-completed are reminders of the nearly 100 students that will be turned down this year – forced to attend public or, often unable, no school at all.
Standing there, in the middle of a classroom filled with young kids more excited about being at school than I ever remember being put my dreams of wealth and “success” into perspective; what did my having millions really matter if here were kids that had no opportunity to even learn to read - no possibility to chase dreams of their own, as I was so easily able to do in the States?
I was moved emotionally and mentally. My life's priorities were immediately tossed upside down, and I decided to do something about it. I enlisted the help of those that were willing, got the school photographed, researched the school's history and status, and made my preperations for pitching its story to friends and family. I returned to the States and began, alongside school and work, constructing the nonprofit corporation that was to become The Wishspring Foundation.
IRS forms, bank statements, and a website behind me, my goal is still far from being realized; the school remains in dire need of help, and it is up to you to give these kids a chance in the world. They need an education, and it is on the shoulders of those able and willing to provide what they can in assisting those who are unable.
Do what you can. Donate!