release

So I made a kid cry today…I didn’t mean to, of course, but we were doing a writing exercise and when I asked for volunteers to read their work aloud, her hand shot up at the end and then I saw teardrops falling onto her khakis.  What amazes me about kids is how open they’re willing to be, even when they feel most vulnerable.  The exercise is to write a postcard to someone who’s far away; we listen to music, we talk about emotions, I share a postcard I wrote to my older brother, and then they go to work.  At first I only had two volunteers, and both kids told funny stories—memories of jumping on the bed with siblings, or getting her head stuck in one of the games at Chuck E. Cheese.  But then one girl read her postcard, and she laughed a little as she told us about how her father once threw her in a snowbank for fun and she got hurt instead.  But he didn’t mean to hurt her, and he rushed over to make it better, and now he’s gone and she misses him.  We clapped for her, and I told her what I liked about her writing, and then she hung her head and her tears started to fall.  It’s happened before, and I always have to consider what’s best: stop and go to the child to offer comfort, or keep going and hope another adult will handle it instead.  Today I opted to keep going b/c if *I* stop, all eyes are on me, and then all eyes will be on the child.  Today, I think the assistant principal took the girl outside; I finished up my lesson, put on my coat, and then the girl came back in and quietly said, “Thanks.”  “Thank YOU,” I said, “for having the courage to share your memories.”

Are the young naturally more courageous than we are?  Why did she want to share her postcard—did she not know she was going to get upset?  She must have, I think…Sometimes I wonder if it’s irresponsible of me to stir up their emotions and then leave.  I’m going back next week, and we’ll turn their postcards into full-length stories for picture books.  The teacher at that junior high is *amazing* (and Canadian!) and we reminisced for a moment about how Ezra Jack Keats’ books were the only ones we read as kids that featured black children.  Ah, the Great White North.  But while I’m talking about Canada, let me give a shout out to the Toronto Women’s Bookstore, which (to my knowledge) is the only store in Canada offering A Wish After Midnight to its patrons!  Sisters are doin’ it for themselves…

When I got home, I found an email from the wonderful coordinator at UFT—I’ll be giving another talk to teachers’ union members on February 23rd, so mark your calendar!  Looks like another hundred books will be given away to those in attendance…teachers rule!