Dana L. Yeoman, DDS
Dentures and Implants
The Power of a Smile to Transcend Borders Part 12
Site last published: 08/28/10
The Power of a Smile to Transcend Borders Part 12
Staying in an orphanage for the first time was a disturbingly enlightening experience. In the complex where the troubled Andrei lived, the children were treated relatively well compared to other orphanages. Being close to a big city, they were the recipients of more donations than the more remote countryside orphans. These kids went to public school even though they could not afford uniforms. Their school supplies were all donated. They seemed to be a huge family of 33 brothers and sisters, sharing kitchen duties and the like. Despite their issues, this seemed to be the most modern and well cared-for orphanage I had the privilege of serving. They even had a social worker to help them with their psychological struggles.
I had expected the kids to desperately need attention and love. I envisioned a couple little children sitting in my lap every moment they could get. I am used to my nieces who scramble for my attention: loving to have their hair brushed and to be squeezed with hugs and kisses. These orphans had no such inclination. They were polite, helpful, and glad to meet new people. They also held all the Americans at arm’s length.
Spending some time in observation, I realized these children had learned at an early age adults could not be trusted. Their parents, very likely, were alcoholics or chemical addicts. The kids may or may not have been abused. Either they were abandoned by their families and living on the streets in fear of predators, or they were taken away by a governmental agency to be placed into a facility that was not funded. In these conditions they could have seen and endured anything. Those who lived on the streets must have been very smart in order to survive, and these orphans proved it to be true.
Andrei, the troubled teenager, found himself in my dental chair on about the third day. The only thing I knew about him was he was more neurotic than the average hormonal fourteen year old. Andrei would avoid the other kids, burst into bitter tears about four times a day, and run away in anger if asked his name. I was a sulky teenager, once upon a time. This kid was an emotional disaster zone.
Unsure how to get his trust now that I had to do his dentistry, I asked the dumbest, most generic dentist question in the books. “So, do you want to be a dentist when you grow up?” The translator repeated my ridiculous question.
Andrei, however answered seriously. “I want to be an artist.” He certainly had a temperament that matched Van Gogh’s. “I like to paint.”
As I evaluated Andrei’s teeth, my brain turned over this information. I am a decent artist in my own right, but am better at designing smiles than making art to hang over the sofa. For the first time I had something I could relate to with this boy, and asked more questions.
The translator was able to get Andrei to admit he had painted several of the art pieces that lined the walls of the orphanage. That in itself was not particularly spectacular. Kiddie art was strewn all about the orphanage walls in an attempt to lighten the foreboding corridors. However, there were several paintings that stood out as being extraordinary for an untrained kid who dabbled in paints. I had noted them on our first introductory tour. All the primitive kid-art was overshadowed by these gorgeous paintings. Having taken several years of art classes, I know my own limitations, but recognize when something is exceptional. For a child who never had a chance to study art, these were brilliant.
Still, my mind tried to wrap around the reason for Andrei’s psychological pain. Now I knew he was a sensitive artist with a gift. Studying his teeth and taking notes of the dentistry that needed to be done, I realized I was staring the answer in the mouth... so to speak.