Today I learned about the home life of two students. Their struggles in school point to the hard-to-hide troubles at home. Yet, they are not free to tell their stories...they are bound by the love they feel for their parents, no matter how painful that love might be....
Somebody wanted... but... so....
It sounds so simple when we say it
in our smooth teacher voices,
and it really is! Some amazing teacherperson crafted
this 'barebones story frame,'
giving birth to
"The dinosaur wanted a friend but nobody liked him. So he met a
dragon and they became friends. The End!"
And so we teach children...to write their own tales
in little books with bright yellow construction paper covers,
kids' tongues concentrating, sticking out, poised between teeth,
as they try so hard to remember the difference
between 'b' and 'd.'
Toothless smiles gleam
on the 'About the Author' pages
they dictate to you...another fairy tale...for some...
But for others...their stories remain
locked behind their eyes,
eyes wise beyond their years, lives already eroded by tears
that replace bathtime.
They cannot tell their truths because
they are too real,
too scary,
and all their fault, all their fault...they think,
over and over,
"all my fault, all my fault, all my fault, all my fault!"
before they even understand what fault means.
Somebody wanted to get high, but they didn't have any money because it all goes to the kid, so they sold their daughter's medication to get more money so they could get high,
high,
higher than the sky,
But why?
why mommy why
can't I get breakfast at school, mommy?
I'm hungry mommy and today's french toast day, mommy,
can't I get french toast mommy, like the others? NO! Not today! Go away!
Then in her classroom, when the teacher asks her
if she wants breakfast, she says a quiet
"no thank you, not today,"
and goes away
to hang up her backpack with last week's papers
mangled and forgotten in the bottom,
and the teacher goes on to the next name, while the girl thinks her story
inside herself...
...somebody wanted some breakfast, but her mommy said no,
so she wouldn't get any breakfast. The end.
That's the story
behind locked eyes, a barebones story
that leaves her alone, and hungry and wondering why
her stories are never about
dragons and dinosaurs
becoming friends.
The end.
5 comments:
WOW! Powerful and poignant.
Not only children, we all live our story and only the brave will tell. but we adults have more power to do something about it.
I love reading your blog, teach.
Carol
;)
yep, you're right...how often do we put on a public face to hide some fear, anxiety, stress.... the adult world may provide us more options, but we too bury our stories.
Pretty amazing, this blogging thing. I really have no burning desire to publish writing, but I do enjoy knowing that someone out there has connected with my words. Thanks, Carol.
How do I write through tears? And what can I say anyway? Except thank God there are teachers who see. That is the first step to understanding, and who care -- the next step to becoming real in such children's lives.
I don't think hope is treacherous, Laura -- I don't think any of us can survive without it.
And I think as a teacher you are in a position to stand for hope in this little one's eyes. To encourage her own actions and decisions and thought processes, to acknowledge not all is friendly dinosaurs becoming friends. Some of it is dragons that must be slain so the friendships can be built.
For this little girl, it's okay to love her mom, warts and all, but it's not okay to go hungry. In other words, she can love her mom, but not like the course her mom's life is on. And with the help of wise and loving teachers, she can learn that her life's choices will be hers, and SHE IS ONLY RESPONSIBLE FOR HER CHOICES, not her mom's. It's not her fault. Not her fault. Not her fault.
And it may well take a lifetime for her to learn... I know it is taking a lifetime for me to learn some pretty elemental things.
Thank you so much for writing, Laura. I know what you mean about blogging vs publishing. (We don't get rejection letters here.) You have a lot to say, and your talent as a writer helps you say it. Your words are a gift to us...
I'm so touched reading this and saddened too because it's oh so true. You have an amazing talent with words and your caring shines through.
Anita
I had a shining moment today and a poem with an uplifting tone is in the works...teaching can show you the best and worst of life--but is never without hope.
New post is coming that will put a smile on your face. No apologies for tears shed...they remind us we have room in our heart for many, many souls.
Thanks again for your encouraging and validating words...Laura
Post a Comment