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1959 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Public ServiceBIOGRAPHY of Tee Tee Luce
TEE TEE LUCE was born on July 19, 1895 at Insein, Hanthawaddy District, Burma. Through her brother, himself a learned scholar of Pali, she met her future husband, Professor Gordon H. Luce. Husband and wife have made an exemplary team and have shared together a long and fruitful life. The Luces have two children of their own, who are residing in England, and over the years have been foster parents to scores of boys off the streets of Rangoon.
Professor Luce has participated wholeheartedly in the Home his wife founded and, since his arrival in Rangoon in 1912 to teach English literature at University College, he has served his adopted country in many other ways. He is widely respected for his research on Burma's languages and ancient history.
It was in 1926 that Daw TEE TEE determined to help Burma's juvenile delinquents. Her "inspiration and example" was Alexander Paterson, later knighted, then His Majesty's Commissioner for Prisons and famed for his humane and sympathetic treatment of prisoners in Britain. He had been invited to advise the Burmese Government regarding an increase of crime. A contributing factor emphasized by Paterson was the neglect of a large number of young children who fell into the hands of criminal gangs and from there were destined to overcrowd the jails. That same year, when Daw TEE TEE took her two children to England for schooling, Paterson arranged for her to visit juvenile courts, Borstal Institutions, prisons, corrective homes and schools.
On her return she spent a year studying the deserted urchins of Rangoon. Sometimes dressing herself as a boy, she talked with them at the foodstalls where they did odd jobs or begged for scraps. She visited the opium dens and brothels they frequented and saw them on the doorsteps where they slept, ill clad and unsheltered. She met their leaders, who lived by thieving and vice. And bit by bit they came to confide in her.
She presented her findings to a large public gathering in a paper entitled "The Street Children of Rangoon" and appealed for help and advice in starting a home. At her instigation a Children's Aid and Protection Society was organized to sponsor a "wholetime place where the children will stay for education . . . until we shall find work for them." The Home for Waifs and Strays was launched at near midnight on Saturday, September 1, 1928, when Daw TEE TEE and several members of the Society gathered a group of street boys outside a cinema house, explained what they had to offer, and invited volunteers. It was intended to start with six pupils but 19 crowded into the bus.
The need for such a place was great, and during the first year the number of boys increased to nearly 60. Receipts from donors and members and proceeds from charity performances by well-known dancers, actors and athletes were never adequate. "I carry on as best I can," Daw TEE TEE said, "till I begin to see the bottom of the purse, and then I rack my brains for means to refill it." By exercising stringent economy—the budget some months allowed only Rs.12/8 per day—the difficult beginning period was survived. A generous Burmese citizen made a gift of 2.4 acres of "excellent land" bordering on a lake, where the compound is located today. In mid-1929, the Rangoon Corporation and the Chinese Central Club began to make monthly donations, together nearly covering basic expenses. With other contributions and regular fund-raising activities, plus a modest income from work done in the weaving section, the Home flourished. The first Burmans to tackle bookbinding, this section received jobs from the University and other libraries which largely covered its costs. By 1941, there were 12 buildings, large and small, an undersized football field and a modest garden.
Soon after the Home was started, Mrs. LUCE described her approach in developing a rehabilitation program for the street boys: "We are studying these lads, and rather leaving them to make suggestions than trying to force them into any rigid mould. Soon . . . definite courses and a regular timetable will evolve. But we would rather that this should do so of itself, than be imposed by us on minds which we as yet imperfectly understand."
In her first annual report Daw TEE TEE added: "We know a good deal more about them now . . . but . . . are far from exhausting the subject, and if we have made some sort of a regular timetable, it is not applied very rigidly. For . . . they are not quite normal children. They have seen and done too much of evil, too little of good. At their most impressionable age each has led a life of . . . nervous excitement, and their widely different experiences have left a different mark on each. Sexually, all the many dangers of adolescence have been rendered acute for them by the utter promiscuity of Rangoon street life . . . Their minds, too, tend to be unhealthily alert . . . Living a life of battle . . . they soon develop defensive and later offensive cunning . . . that leads to crime. Physically . . . they are in a wretched condition . . . It is plain that an ordinary school curriculum will not suit—at first, at any rate—boys such as these." Their bodies, she said, required "hospital rather than school treatment." Mentally, they had "as much to unlearn as to learn." And being "quite undisciplined," at the least annoyance they would vanish. Yet it was her conviction that most of the boys, particularly the younger ones, could be turned into normal and useful members of society. "A lot of patience is necessary," she emphasized, ". . . the main thing is to make them feel you love them, each individually, and gradually (it takes sometime) to win their love and confidence in return. The atmosphere in fact must be that of a home—not a prison or even a reformatory school."
This compassionate attitude and certain practices established that initial year have been maintained down to today. The first rule was that the boys must address Daw TEE TEE as "Mother," or Maymay Gyi as it is in Burmese, the Matron as "Aunt," and Professor Luce as "Papa Gyi." Courtesy was firmly stressed for "habits of politeness" had a "softening effect" on the boys' minds. Group sessions were another "essential part of their education," with the boys participating in storytelling and talks on all manner of subjects. Mrs. LUCE also tried to awaken their spiritual life, explaining to them simply, "I believe in prayer."
On entering the Home, each boy received the barest minimum—a longyi, jacket, blanket and mat. Anything extra was earned by hard work and good conduct. As a result, prize-givings were common. Another principle was that every well-behaved boy should receive a little—"a very little"—pocket money, which he could spend as he liked. At first, allowances were splurged on cheap cigarettes and monkey nuts, then many learned to make better use of their small funds. There was also some paid work in the Home—cleaning, making repairs and additions, producing work for sale—and occasionally part-time jobs were available outside. To satisfy the "craving for excitement" and to make up for the lack of holidays away from the school, there were periodic visits to a cinema, a football match or pagoda festivals. Other treats, such as zoo trips, and Christmas parties were arranged by civic-spirited individuals and groups. As soon as a boy had reached the limit of his studies and stood a fair chance of "behaving as an employee," regular employment was sought for him.
Physical training was an important feature. Professional athletes, athletic instructors, university students and Professor Luce all helped as teachers. Through sports, Mrs. LUCE wrote in her first report, the boys were "gradually learning . . . not to hit below the belt, to keep their temper and take punishment . . . obey the rules, smile under defeat, train hard . . ." One waif, with the generous coaching of fine boxers, became All-Burma Junior School Boxing Champion. Their enthusiasm for boxing and football, she felt, may have been "the best school discipline" the Home had discovered for the boys. "We need . . . more than anything," she wrote, " . . . the discipline which every sportsman, and for that matter every decent member of society, voluntarily accepts, in the interest of the game."
A "quarrelsome . . .set of rascals," the waifs would "on the slightest provocation . . . start violently abusing each other in the foulest language." The staff had continually to be confiscating more or less dangerous weapons which the boys would "secrete in a handy place against emergency." The youngest and best boxer "so far forgot himself one day as to heave a brick at another boy and follow it up by biting a piece out of his hand." Their anger was sudden and not easily allayed. Two waifs, eating and sleeping together daily, did not speak to each other for two months, because of a "trifling altercation." Experience proved that forgiveness usually followed if the offender nursed the boy he had hurt. Their quarrels, Mrs. LUCE felt, spurred most of the runaways. "We make it a rule now," she said, " . . . to put . . . gloves on the quarrelers and give them three or four fierce rounds in the presence of the others till they are tired out; after which they are usually ready to shake hands cordially enough."
The value of Daw TEE TEE's methods was acknowledged by her appointment as the first Children's Magistrate in Burma, in charge of juvenile offenders. As such, she was the first woman to hold a Magistracy under the then British Government. Empowered to make arrests, she never exercised this authority, preferring instead persuasion. She made friends with habitual offenders of the street to keep in touch with runaways as well as boys who wished to enter the Home, when space became available. When she took boys away from opium dens, the owners were invited to the Home, where they could see the difference in the youngsters' lives for themselves. The boys were allowed to go back after a time if they wished, and some went for a few days, but returned. Several of her original l9 used opium, and over the years she has had to cure many boys of this addiction. Her treatment was based on medical advice plus some touches of her own. While steadily decreasing the opium doses and substituting sweets, she offered "plenty of sympathy and distractions," and promised a tempting reward of money and a special treat, such as a visit to Rangoon's famed Shwe Dagon Pagoda, once the boy succeeded in breaking himself of the habit for a week. This formula generally worked in that time.
In January 1942, when the great exodus from Rangoon began before the Japanese advance, the Luces were ordered to evacuate. Taking little luggage, they drove with friends to Upper Burma. From there the men walked the last 100 miles to India and the women were carried in chairs by Tangkhul Nagas. The Luces went on to England where they remained for over four years. The Home was also evacuated, together with Army Headquarters, to Upper
Burma, where it was disbanded as the Japanese came into that region.
Returning in 1946 to reopen the Home at the request of the Government, Daw TEE TEE faced a formidable task. The compound had been occupied by the Japanese and later thoroughly looted. As could be expected, all their personal possessions, including a valuable library, had been taken, but also, in the main building alone, five staircases, 32 doors and 74 windows were missing, as well as parts of eaves and verandahs. Sanitary and electrical fittings were wrecked or gone. The dining room and kitchen had entirely disappeared, except for the foundation. All vocational and athletic apparatus was gone, and only the steel frame of the gym was left. The septic tank and the pump were ruined and the grounds completely overgrown. But the Luces set to work and together with five old "senior waifs" started the Home again under makeshift conditions. Seven former Committee members continued as well. After two years, having weathered a series of financial crises, the Home was taking care of 90 boys.
While Professor Luce "cut the jungle," Daw TEE TEE posted boys to watch for snakes. Soon, the garden was again providing most vegetables and some fruits with the help of tools, shoots, seeds and advice from the Department of Agriculture and later also seeds from the Asia Foundation. The main building was put in order first, and, between 1947 and 1954, the vocational sheds were temporarily repaired and then replaced and newly equipped, the gym was completely rebuilt and outfitted, and a new sanitarium was erected. Grants for this reconstruction came from Burmese Government agencies; Madame Aung San, the widow of the Father of Burmese Independence, and her colleagues in the Women's and Children's Welfare Board; and the Public Welfare Foundation of Washington, D.C., U.S.A. The Burmese women's group also contributed for a time money or food for each waif, paid a year's salary for a nurse-matron and later made annual cash gifts. The Public Welfare Foundation for several years has sustained the carpentry section and financed education costs inside and outside the Home.
Sizeable donations have come annually from such government entities as the Ministry of Social Welfare and the Rangoon Municipal Corporation and from the public, notably the Rangoon Turf Club. Money, crockery, clothing, rice and other eatables have come from private citizens, Burmese companies and civic organizations, and the Strand Hotel. Workshops of the Rangoon Central and Insein Gaols made some gym equipment and funds for more were raised at a boxing show arranged by the Rangoon Commissioner of Police. Visitors to Burma, such as Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru of India and Madam Pibul Songgram of Thailand have made gifts. UNESCO coupons that have come from children in Germany, France, Japan, Switzerland, the United Kingdom and the United States have been used to purchase materials and equipment for the vocational sections and the gym, games and art supplies and hair-cutting gear. Regular benefits and special affairs have also provided income—former Prime Minister U Nu recently turned over his "official wardrobe" to be auctioned at the Home.
An Honorary Home Doctor and his staff have faithfully given vaccinations and daily medical help in treating skin and eye infections, fractures, and other ailments. An Honorary Home Dentist has likewise provided dental care and other doctors and nurses in the Rangoon Central Hospital, and TB and Contagious Disease Clinics have treated cases that could not be cared for in the Home. An architect also donated his work. Scoutmasters, university lecturers and students have taught Burmese, arithmetic, sports, singing and games. The Bishop of Rangoon and wives of foreign officials have helped with gifts; others have taught English and art classes, outfitted the sanitarium, given blankets, and treated the boys on fete days. Books, magazines and films have been provided by the British Council and Embassy, the USIS and the Mass Education Council.
Whereas there were 40 looms and a fair-sized sales department before the war, the weaving section reopened with three looms. As these were added to, the weavers began to make most of the longyis and knickers for the boys, spreads, curtains and other fabrics for the Home. The income-earning sale of woven napkins, dusters and the like was also resumed. The old waif formerly in charge came back to start the bookbinding section, where the school's own books are kept repaired and work comes in from various government departments and foreign embassies. In the reactivated carpentry shop, under the guidance of a master carpenter, the boys made most of the Home furniture. The carpentry students also take care of ordinary repairs of buildings, walks and drains.
The Government, which from 1946 gave the bare essentials of food and occasional gifts of bedding and clothing, now pays a nominal sum of Rs.30 per month for boys who are Government charges.
There is today a fluctuating population of 120-130 boys, ranging from six to 18 years of age. Since November 1946, the Home has taken in juvenile offenders and undertrials as well as waifs and strays for, as Mrs. LUCE explained, "the war caused, here as elsewhere, a definite degeneration." Only about one-fourth of the boys now are waifs, dependent solely on charity. Most of them are found loitering and are brought in by medical social workers, policemen, college students, military officers, probation officers and friends of the Home. In 1958 two old runaways were brought back by "our senior boys," and 11 ex-juvenile offenders stayed on as waifs, three to continue their studies and eight to seek employment outside. All the waifs last year were Burmans, excepting one Mon.
Juvenile offenders are brought in by probation officers and the Special Police Force through the Children's Court. The majority are found living in the street and have committed various offenses. Many return to their own homes at 16 or earlier. This group, that numbered between 53 and 74 last year, included Burmans, Indians, Chinese, a Chin, an Arakanese, and a Shan.
Undertrials, of which over 200 were kept for various periods in 1958, are sent under a remand order by the Government and are a floating population. Their offenses are more serious and some have been involved in theft, housebreaking, stone throwing or stabbing cases. After trial, a few are sent to the Juvenile Offenders Section to be kept until they are 18, others are released after payment of fines or on bail by the Court, still others are transferred to corrective homes and institutions. Because they are there briefly and cannot be given the same freedom as the other boys, the Home can do little to reach them.
Daw TEE TEE makes it plain that the Home is "not a dumping ground for unwanted children" and "we never forget that a home with a small 'h' is a better place for children than a Home with a capital 'H'." She often accepts temporarily, however, "uncontrollable children" who are in danger of drifting into crime. In such cases where families are well-off, they are asked to pay Rs.30 or to make smaller donations for their children's keep.
The number of runaways since the war has been "disquieting." It is easy to escape from the Home "which depends far more on willingness to stay than on compulsion." Though "most are lazy, selfish boys who dislike the discipline," Daw TEE TEE reiterates in her reports that "life gets irksome in a confined space, with little variety of occupation and no holidays at home." She has exerted every effort to give even the most unresponsive boys more change and interest in life, both in their work and play.
There is now a daily routine of activities, but exceptions are still made for unusual cases. The days begin with physical exercises, followed by prayers at seven. While others clean the buildings, the musically-inclined may practice for an hour before school time. Regular classes given in the Home are attended by all younger waifs and juvenile offenders every weekday from 10 to 12. As much higher education as the older ones can profit by is given them—in 1958, 18 boys were attending college and high schools outside the Home. Elder boys are taught one or more of the three vocations. Remand boys cut wood, carry water, or work on drains. They also work in the garden, as does nearly every one. Sixteen boys last year were giving the majority of their work earnings and pocket money to their aged parents and a number were keeping savings boxes with Mrs. LUCE. There are still special classes in the afternoons and evenings for boys who need extra help in their schoolwork. During the dry season, "Papa Gyi" holds afternoon classes in the gymnasium. All have a swim in the lake each morning after chores and in the evening after gym.
Some evenings, Mrs. LUCE gives piano lessons to a few boys. Professor Luce works with a percussion band, and "Big Uncle" J. S. Furnivall, who now lives at the Home, has a recorder class which performs on fete days. Since a fine collection of records and a modern gramophone arrived five years ago from England, musical evenings have been a popular weekly feature. The remand boys and older ones may hold their own debates and singing sessions, while the younger ones, and any others who want to join, come up to the large living room where they group around a chalk circle. A nine-boy band—three each with castanets, triangles and cymbals—is "conducted" in accompaniment with recorded music, while others dance spontaneously in relays in the circle. Aside from being a favorite entertainment, music has been of therapeutic value in drawing out several disturbed youngsters.
Daw TEE TEE has taken special care with staff. Believing that "personal influence of the right sort" was essential, she also recognized that dealing with such boys was a difficult task "learnt only by suffering and painful experience." Her advice to staff members has been "be patient and unselfish," never lose temper "under any provocation" and always "forget oneself and serve others." No one holds an official position there who does not love the boys. The soft-spoken Chief Warden is one of the early waifs, who from the age of three had picked a living off the streets. He is now married and with his wife and baby son lives in the compound. A devout Catholic nurse is in charge of the sanitarium and helps with the little boys. Beside the Mother, the Aunt, the Chief Warden and the Nurse-Matron, there are four teachers—one full-time and three part-time—five prefects, and two masters—one part-time—who handle religious affairs, kindergarten, Burmese, English, history, and mathematics-classes, and the three vocational sections. The full-time master supervises the undertrials and the history teachers also give them daily classes in general subjects, along with senior boys under custody order.
Chastisement is used only by the Mother of the Home for faults of violence. Many of the boys have seen adult violence and Mrs. LUCE knows that it is a short step from fists to knives. If caught hitting or ill-treating others, the boys get a mild beating and are asked to make friends with their victims. She does not punish a boy for stealing because "so many of them have been taught to steal." Instead, she tries to reeducate them by giving them a money box of their own for their savings.
Nowadays, the Luces and Furnivall have their rooms on the second floor next to the senior boys and the younger ones live below. Problem children usually stay with Mrs. LUCE. She personally cooks for all the little ones and those attending schools outside "to make the boys feel that they really have their mother in the Home." The small boys eat near the Luces and there is much banter during meals.
Daw TEE TEE herself rarely leaves the compound, has usually refused honors and decorations offered her and declines invitations to lecture on her "method," warmly inviting people instead to visit the Home. Among the 5,000 boys who have lived there over nearly 30 years, the proportion of failures is small. Many boys have gone on to take responsible positions in their society. Recently, there were 23 in the Burmese Army, including three officers and six sergeants; three in the Navy, including one lieutenant; and three in the Prison Department as weaving instructor, game master and warden. One was clerking in the Union Bank and another was a station master in the Burma Railways. They are serving in the Secretariat, the Inland Waterways, Agricultural Department, Government Printing Press, Rangoon Fire Brigade, Motor Mechanical Department, in stationery stores, cinemas, as drivers and two are teachers in the Chin hills.
The unique quality of Daw TEE TEE’s accomplishment as Mother of the Home for Waifs and Strays and Honorary Secretary of the Children's Aid and Protection Society is expressed in the opening remarks of her report for the year 1957: "I should like first to state that we are trying to make this a real Home, and not just an Institution."
August 1959
Manila
REFERENCES
Children's Aid and Protection Society—Home for Waifs and Strays. Annual Reports: 1928-29, 1947-48, 1950, 1952, 1954-58.
New Burma Weekly, January 24, 1959.
Interviews with and reports from persons in Burma and visits to the Home.
