Friday, January 30, 2009

Blog Your Blessings: A Perfect Essay

It's a perfect essay, I told my students. And we're going to read it to see how a perfect essay is written, and how you can learn to read for answers in one and then to write one.

The perfect essay was President Obama's letter to his daughters, which ran in the Parade section of our January 19 newspaper. In it, Obama explains to his daughters--and to all American children--why he chose to run for the presidency. He begins with a clear introduction in a paragraph that ends with a thesis statement. Each of the next seven paragraphs identifies a reason he chose to run for office. The conclusion summarizes the essay and includes a restatement of the thesis.

The structure is textbook perfection. The content is a story of love for his daughters and the belief that if you love your family you do everything you can to make their lives as good as they can be. The bottom line: running for office was a gesture of love. In the words of another brilliant writer--Elie Wiesel--the theme is this: "Once you bring life into the world, you must protect it. We must protect it by changing the world."

Students who have gone as far as bringing their parents to me to deliver the baggage they have invented to justify not reading in class, not participating in any way, not working at all ever asked to read. Students who had yet to connect learning with the quality of their lives wanted to read. Kids who never gave a thought to behaving and respecting their peers wanted to read. It was a miracle that had everything to do with the author and content of the reading material at hand and my students' identification with him.

I have sought to teach these kids to look deeper into President Obama. Enough with the "he's the first black President" stuff. Who is he? With that question in mind, I found a piece on the ABC News website that discussed his early life and brought that to my seventh graders. They read for themselves that first his father and then his mother left the household and Obama grew up in the care of his maternal grandparents--who struggled to get by. This scenario is not unfamiliar to a lot of my kids. Here they were reading about a man who faced challenges similar to their own but made an impressive life for himself and for his family as well as others.

My little ruffians read with rapt attention. Another miracle. When I stopped one child so another could begin, the first child said, "Miss, I wasn't done." I wouldn't argue with that; I let him read on. And on. And on.

At the street level a week after the inauguration of President Obama, I saw an amazing transformation. A random good week in the ghetto? I've had those before. They weren't like this one. This was a miracle. Kids are seeing for themselves through a man they see as one of their own who happens to lead our nation that it really is possible to hitch your wagon something greater than yourself and realize your potential.

Obama: "And so what I told [Middle East envoy George Mitchell'] is start by listening, because all too often the United States starts by dictating -- in the past on some of these issues -- and we don't always know all the factors that are involved. So let's listen."

Blog Your Blessings

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Skywatch Friday: But We Couldn't Smell Snow

IMG 5694

Late afternoon took on a snowy glow, but we couldn't smell snow and therefore dismissed the possibility snow would come. There isn't a person I know from around these parts who doesn't claim to smell snow before it comes. If you know the smell, you're nodding right now. If you don't, then come to Connecticut and find out what cold and quiet and still and moist smell like even before they arrive.

Skywatch Friday

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Wordless Wednesday: The Only Way to Warm Up

IMG 5629

The only way to warm up when I'm just out the door on a single-digit morning and waiting for the bun warmers to heat up is to start from the top and pop a few cinnamon Tic-Tacs. That's thanks to dad, who supplied me with a half dozen packages when Della and I stopped by last week. The heat is an illusion, but on a cold day, that's okay! (This container caught my eye because I never saw them so lined up so neatly.)

Wordless Wednesday

Monday, January 26, 2009

My World Tuesday: A Psychological Tour of Connecticut in Winter

IMG 5608

IMG 5607

IMG 5612


For the past few weeks My World Tuesday has for me been full of snow and ice. I had sought to add a little variety to spice up life for this week. Alas, the best I could do was to capture an image of the strange dialogue between warmth and winter that begins at the end of every Connecticut January and ends with winter's having the last word. To thaw or not to thaw, my dear? The answers yes and no come simultaneously and leave us with water that is and is not frozen on a landscape that sometimes conceals moving streams or ribbons of ice. You don't know until you fall through.

My World Tuesday

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Weekend Snapshot: Doing Lunch in Litchfield

IMG 5677

IMG 5679

Very often these horses are out to lunch when I pass by their pasture on Route 188 in Litchfield, Connecticut, when I am making my way to Wisdom House. On Saturday, I attempted a few photos. I rushed because traffic on this road is pretty intense. The "woosh" of a few cars that passed me while I was trying to compose the shots rocked my car and convinced me to hurry. These animals are the picture of peace; they stand (and eat) in stark contrast to the weekenders who blew by my car.


Weekend Snapshot

One Single Impression: If Only I Had the Time

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!
Each snowflake
A second of my life and yours
A breath
Those snowflakes
Together,
My lifetime and yours.
Each space between each flake
A second in time
Another breath,
Another lifetime.
What distance? What life? What death in this breath?
What value, this measurement?
Wait.
Wait with me
For all the snow
Together at once here and at your feet
A blanket, a shield
A veil between the truth
That life flies by
Unacknowledged
Except in the coming together
In the breath
To be snow,
Ice,
Water. Who can say.
Wait with me
Take with me
The deep breath
We call time.

One Single Impression

Friday, January 23, 2009

Blog Your Blessings: Music

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

I was in one of my usual spots on Tuesday as the president's inauguration unfolded--behind the wheel of my VW Jetta heading for the house. Though I was a bit frustrated that highway construction and traffic kept me from watching all of the event, it seemed to me at the time that this extraordinary, ordinary moment should take place for me where I always am anyway. So I accepted the traffic until I pulled into my garage--and then I ran like a mad woman to see what there was to see on TV, unlacing my boots even as I ran for the house. I wanted all of it.

Happily, I caught the performance of John Williams's arrangement of "Air and Simple Gifts" featuring Itzhak Perlman, Yo Yo Ma, Gabriela Montero and Anthony McGill. Here are the lyrics:

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,

'Tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain'd,

To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,

To turn, turn will be our delight,

Till by turning, turning we come round right.

That was for me the day. In fact, if I had to distill President Obama's inaugural speech into eight lines, these would do the job.

While the US Navy Sea Chanters concluded the ceremony by singing the National Anthem, I had the heart-warmingly obvious realization that the music of the day was familiar to me: "My Country, 'Tis of Thee," "Simple Gifts," and the Anthem. I sang the three of them (quietly so as not to offend the guinea pig in my lap). I knew these songs. These were my songs. I grew up singing them, standing for them, saluting the flag with them, and saying "amen" in my heart at the close of each one every time. "My Country, 'Tis of Thee" always followed the Pledge in elementary school. "Simple Gifts" was a church song that made the program every time we got simple, back to nature, or folksy. The Anthem is pervasive--I hear it at sports events, school events, on patriotic holidays. Like everything else about the day, it was as ordinary as it was extraordinary. And beautiful.

They are three sweet songs about being here and gladly calling you neighbor, that we are connected by this shared music even when we are all alone struggling to get our boots off. Extraordinary and ordinary, alone yet not at all alone. We know the story. It's ours. And it's beautiful in its utter simplicity.

Blog Your Blessings

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Skywatch Friday: From a Summer Day (That Feels so Long Ago)

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!


This is a reflected sky view I came across one warm day on Topsail Island, North Carolina, last August. There is an osprey nest in the right of the photo.

Skywatch Friday

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Opportunity?

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

There is no security on this earth, there is only opportunity. (General Douglas MacArthur)

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Wordless Wednesday: Hold Your -- Icicle

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Wordless Wednesday

One Nation. So be it.

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Monday, January 19, 2009

My World Tuesday: Pressed into Flight

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

One sunny summer day last year, my friend and I came across these designs pressed into the concrete slabs of a building that was once a factory in New Haven, Connecticut. The place is a warehouse for a hotel furniture liquidator now. The bottom photo is a view of New Haven harbor from the Long Wharf area.

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

My World Tuesday

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Weekend Snapshot: My Fortune

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!


Weekend Snapshot

One Single Impression: Faded Memories

When the mid-January smell of winter is too much
And the glare of too much light
On too deep snow blinds me,
I lean back and open wide
To drink the rain of a February memory....
A night a dance a boy and me

There is little left of that memory..
The exact time, who else, what music, and how
Washed away years ago...

But the feeling remains:
A night a dance a boy and me
Hearts free from bruises
Pulse to the delightful beat of possibility...
All life, all life ahead...

There is a photo:
All light and life remain
Though our faces have faded with age.
It hardly matters now:
I lean back, open wide,
And stay in that moment
Way past curfew

When January is too much with me.

The thought of the words "faded memories" at once makes me think of any one of my photo albums from the 1970s and 1980s. What happened with film processing back then that images seem to be dissolving in a puddle of fading color right on the photographic paper? I have photos from high school that are all but gone. I look at them and see that they are perfect metaphors for the experiences they capture. Time is a fluid medium in the art of remembering. It is not fast or certain in any way. It changes. Hard moments soften over time; soft moments acquire edges they never had before. Memory and being alive to the learning that every experience presents over and over again makes of life a work of continuously changing, ever-expanding art. I think. At least it seems that way with my memories. I think this is why the same old stories told round the dinner table after a holiday meal are never the same old stories. They are always new.

One Single Impression

Friday, January 16, 2009

Embrace: 'We Cannot Account for It All'

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

The heart of man can be full of so much pain, even when things are exteriorly 'all right.' It becomes all the more difficult because today we are used to thinking that there are explanations for everything. But there is no explanation for most of what goes on in our own hearts, and we cannot account for it all. No use resorting to the kind of mental tranquilizers that even religious explanations sometimes offer. Faith must be deeper than that, rooted in the unknown and in the abyss of darkness that is the ground of our being. (Thomas Merton)

Blog Your Blessings: The Bad Kids

This week's blessing comes from the most difficult class of children I teach. This class of 28 seventh-graders includes seven or eight obnoxious, ungrateful, and downright mean-spirited children who refuse to learn and to cooperate so that the other kids can learn. Like my other classes, I see them twice a week for lessons in reading and writing. I search high and low for reading material that is both current and interesting for them.

Without fail, these angry kids do everything they can to keep the lesson from getting off the ground. They talk, they talk back, they interrupt, they throw papers, they break the pencils I give them and throw them at me or at other students. They make jokes about every kind of sex you can imagine, violence against each other, and the shoes on my feet.

I call their homes and their mothers promise to have their fathers or some other relative beat them. I send them to the office; they are suspended and return after a few days unchanged. I attempt to work on-on-one with them; they stop working when I leave them to attempt the work for themselves so I can work with another student. Since September, I have worked hard to discipline this bunch.

To be sure, there are good kids in this group As hell broke loose on Thursday, I watched the class. I stopped teaching and watched. After the principal came in, silenced them for 20 seconds, and promised suspensions to anyone who misbehaved, they continued misbehaving. Then, the kids who want to learn had their hands up, asked for feedback, took it, and kept working. Others asked to move away from the bad element. A handful of others did as little as possible. I continued teaching the ones who would be taught. Good things happened in this miniature madhouse.

I am wondering why some kids out and out reject kindness. I am wondering how it is these kids--whose behavior is not unique to my classroom and whose parents openly acknowledge they can't keep track of which teacher called when--are permitted the opportunity to bring the quality of education down for the kids who want to succeed.

My mind turns to the veterans I know, to the decent people who work hard and do right as a matter of course, to the good kids whose economic poverty places them in the company of kids who seem bereft of decency, and I cry with frustration and disappointment.

This weekly grief is a blessing even as it breaks my heart because it can and does break my heart. It is a blessing because it has me wondering. How can decency prevail?

Blog Your BlessingsJustify Full

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Skywatch Friday: Blue, Diamonds

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Walking in the woods on Sunday, I noticed the snow seemed to glow with the blue light of the bright, clear sky. These fallen trees intrigued me. The bottom one was dead, but the top tree and its twisted, pulled-up roots was quite alive. Together they looked like two good and loyal friends. There is an abstract, sensuous beauty about the trees and the shapes they take together that captivates me.

Skywatch Friday

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Watch Your Mouth

My sixth-grade students and I have been looking at the story of Ra this week. It is an Egyptian creation legend. From a vast sea emerges an egg; from the egg emerges Ra, who announces his being and therefore is. He names the gods of heaven and earth and then creates people. Seeing their helplessness, he steps down from the heavens, takes human form, and lives among them as their pharaoh.

One of the questions accompanying this lesson designed by my colleague asked the kids to compare this story to a similar myth or legend. Faced with this question, they gave me blank stares. So I launched into the Bible as Literature for Middle School Kids in Three Minutes and, oops, did not leave God out of it. I told them that in the Judeo-Christian text, God appears from an immense darkness and, like Ra, begins naming things. The things he names become their names and the world takes shape and lives.

What?

If I call you a rose, you will feel elegant and beautiful, beloved. If I call you ragweed, you will feel ugly and unwanted, miserable.

Oh.

Such is the importance of language. Here begins life. Here begins your life.

Both the Egpytian and Judeo-Christian stories go on to talk about how God deals with ungrateful, treacherous humans. At the end of the day in both stories, mercy trumps righteous anger.

In the Egyptian story, Ra is ready to wipe everyone off the face of the earth until one of the lesser gods steps in and reminds him not everybody is a bad, uhm, egg. Righ, Ra says. So he sends his daughter, Shekhmet the Slayer, to sort good from evil. However, she takes a liking to killing off the bad guys. Ra's mercy is just, so he devises a plan to get her drunk and thus subdue her.

When she calms down, he names her Hathor the Comforter of People. From Slayer to Comforter. It's possible?

It's possible.

Mercy in the Bible takes the shape of a great Teacher whose lessons in kindness cost him his life that we might better appreciate the beauty and wonder of life itself, of each other, of all creation. The Gospel writer John calls him the Word. And so he is, as he was at the beginning.

We become our words. It's that wildly simple.

The lesson at school reminded me of the thousand and one times my mother told me to watch my mouth. God bless her wisdom.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Wordless Wednesday: Outta Here

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Wordless Wednesday

Monday, January 12, 2009

My World Tuesday: More Connecticut Snow

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

These are images of Mine Hill Preserve in Roxbury, Connecticut. It's a wonderful preserve on the site of an iron mine that ran for about five years in the 1860s. The preserve goes up and on forever until it stops.You see nothing but the mountain laurel in front of you and then it's down, down, down. In the warm weather, quartz is visible everywhere among the rocks and other debris from the mining days, and it's magical. Though the mine has been defunct for a very long time, it's easy to see Mother Nature reclaiming her own despite the fearsome scrape she endured back then. Down the road, where the brothel, general store, railroad station, and lumberyard used to be, there is nothing. The few remaining buildings look like they would gladly give up the ghost if it weren't for the few nails holding them together. Go, Mother Nature! (This video will show you the iron works and other features of the preserve.)

My World Tuesday

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Weekend Snapshot: Slow Snow in the Woods

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!
When the snow started on Saturday afternoon, I decided to go for a walk and wondered, "Do I take the camera?" At first, I thought I'd leave it behind, thinking I've taken these photos before. Then I changed my mind. Looking for the picture helps me see the same old things in new ways. The snow was falling at a 45-degree angle, and I had to keep my eyes down for a good while. I noticed this fern that had managed to rise to the surface of the last storm, and I liked it very much.

Another day, intense low-flying daylight, another fern:

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!


Weekend Snapshot

One Single Impression: A Summer's Day

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

On a hot and hard and humid day,
The taste and scent of my own sweat
And the sound of my own voice
Talking to shadows
In the utter stillness
Amid the blinding brightness of sunlight
Spilling through the clouds

In steam showers laden with rainbows

That never quite touch this earth--

These become my daydream of love.


Also in this dream:
The iron spikes of a thistle,

Small yet strong
And pushing through
The center of this vision,
Pushing back the rainbows.

This is the nature of love,
The nature of my heart,
In this dream.

It is a lonely thing.

The summer night is like a perfection of thought. (Wallace Stevens)

It seems to me poetry is as much about subterfuge as it is about honesty. While it gets at the exquisite beauty and truth (same thing?) of a single experience, it does so in a way that maintains a distance between speaker and audience. Diction and structure see to it. They allow the writer the wriggle room to say, "No, it wasn't about that at all," or "No, I wasn't using that word in that way," or "I wasn't thingking of you at all." A comma here or there or not can draw the fine line between headlong emotion and cold restraint. Dangerous stuff.

Reading Edna St. Vincent Millay's sonnets in the collection Fatal Interview is all about that "come hither so I can be invisible" effect of poetry. The arcane vocabulary and stylized structure shield these fankly erotic poems from the reader even as they dance naked on the page. By the time the poem is clear, Millay has dressed herself and left the bedroom. There's really no conversation between poet and audience. She's done and satisfied and that's it.

Writing this poem--over and over again and over and over possibly tomorrow because I can't quite settle myself with it--I couldn't help but feel over and over again the pain of love--of being present heart and soul--only to be disappointed by the discovery of indiscretion, of broken faith. Of feeling through to the bone the pain of broken faith. I wanted to get past it and write a happy thing about a summer day. But then the thoughts of summer heat--the too much of weather we New Englanders experience in summer and winter--would not step aside from its partner in my mind--the solitude born of brokenness and the pathetic discover that life goes on and might as well be felt thoroughly. So I let it write itself and came back over and over and tried to reason with it.

What I have here is a lonely thing that refuses to participate in that conversation.Such is the nature of truth and perhaps even of beauty.

One Single Impression

Friday, January 09, 2009

Blog Your Blessings: Finding the Train

"So where did the train go?" I asked my daughter when she told me about a devastatingly dull art class, the focus of which was the vanishing point--that imaginary point on the horizon where things seem to disappear. The art teacher had my daughter's fifth-grade class use pencils only to draw train tracks that seemed to converge until they disappeared on the horizon. They used pencils only to draw the detail that vanished in the distance, too.

No color. This was a big part of the problem. The other problem? She kept explaining the vanishing point as if they didn't get it the first time. Duh. The tracks seem to come together until they disappear because you can't see anymore. Got it.

No magic, no color, no life. No story. A concept and a pencil. Might as well be math class.


"But where did the train go?"


"She didn't say."


"Let's find the train. Teach me the way you'd want the class taught and we'll find the train on the other side."


So my daughter got out the paints and pastels, the markers and pens and crayons. The Crayola people fed our need for color; Dell brought her train into a bright new world--a mere puff of smoke on the horizon, to be sure--but step aside, because here it comes!


PS Having satisfied that need for color and freedom, she went on to draw the life-cycle of the snowman. You'll notice the game's up when the kid heads to school.



This week's blessing: Finding the train.

Blog Your Blessings

Thursday, January 08, 2009

Skywatch Friday: Spring's Asleep

Kind of grim....

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

...until you step back and see that spring is here....

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

but she is yet asleep.

Skywatch Friday

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Wisdom: The Book

THE NATURE OF WISDOM

It's not about brains.
It's not about the accumulation of knowledge.
It's about being decent.
(Bryce Courtenay)

You can't get to wonderful
without passing through all right.
(Bill Withers)

You cannot control people by fear
because their ultimate essence is constantly craving dignity.
The human being has a need for dignity like water, like air.
(Wole Soyinka)

You don't have to be rich.
You don't have to be an army.
If you find yourself in a situation that needs to be changed,
if you're willing to offer your life for it,
you might actually get something done.
(Bernice Johnson Reagon)

We've got to learn to love something deeply.
Sounds sentimental as hell,
but I think [wisdom is] love.
(Andrew Wyeth)

"Inspired by the idea that wisdom is the greatest gift one generation can give to another, award-winning photographer and filmmaker Andrew Zuckerman interviewed, photographed and filmed 50 of the world’s great writers, actors, artists, designers, politicians, musicians and religious and business leaders of our time. He posed seven questions to each of his subjects—all over 65 years of age—and their candid responses offer uniquely inspirational and often surprising insights.


"Thoughts from Nelson Mandela, Frank Gehry, Judi Dench, The Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu, Clint Eastwood, Ted Kennedy, Robert Redford, Vaclav Havel, Terence Conran, Buzz Aldrin, Lou Reed, Willie Nelson, Madeline Albright, Jane Goodall, Burt Bacharach, Andrew Wyeth, Vanessa Redgrave, Nadine Gordimer and many more reveal lifetimes of adversity and triumph, and present intimate insights into very public lives."


Talk about an impulse buy! When my friends at Wisdom House sent me a link to the video trailer promoting it, I watched the thing .5 times before I needed whatever it had to offer. If you have five or so minutes, have a look at the trailer here and enjoy this work of art.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Wordless Wednesday: Monkeying Around with Tracey the Tree at the Rainforest Cafe

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!


Wordless Wednesday

Monday, January 05, 2009

My World Tuesday: A Walk in the Snow

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!


This was the view on Day 2 of 2009 when my daughter and I stopped at my parents' home in Newtown, Connecticut. They live near a brook along which there once ran a rail line. The tracks are still visible in some places; where they are not, the straight lines of where they used to be persist. The clouds muffled all sound on a very peaceful day that brought snow showers and plenty of reasons to stay inside and enjoy heat and light and the company of my family. Days like this always bring to mind Christina Rossetti's 1872 poem "In the Bleak Midwinter" about the birth of Christ into the metaphorical cold of this world:

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak mid-winter

Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him

Nor earth sustain;

Heaven and earth shall flee away

When He comes to reign:

In the bleak mid-winter

A stable-place sufficed

The Lord God Almighty,

Jesus Christ....


What can I give Him,

Poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd

I would bring a lamb,

If I were a wise man

I would do my part,

Yet what I can I give Him,

Give my heart.


My World Tuesday

Sunday, January 04, 2009

Weekend Snapshot: Shrug

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

We stopped at the Rainforest Cafe for lunch on Saturday. The food was good, the decor was over the top, the people traffic was non-stop. What's a golden boy to do but shrug?

Weekend Snapshot

One Single Impression: Skin

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

So often words fail
To close the gap,
Fail to name
The truth of love.

Then must our skin
Speak for us
Until there is

No space, no silence

Nothing between

Your pulse and mine

But skin

Hand to hand,

Heart to heart,

Cheek to cheek

All pulse and breath

That is life

That becomes a dance,

Your life and mine, one life

One gesture that begs

All language to blow out the lights

And be gone;


All will be well.

One Single Impression

Saturday, January 03, 2009

The Rising Blogger: Thank You

Thanks to Viola Jaynes for nominating my post, "Kill Yourself and I'll Feel Bad." as Post of the Day at The Rising Blogger.

According to this blog, "The Rising Blogger is devoted to finding and spotlighting the best of the blogosphere in order to help bloggers find, enjoy, appreciate, and validate the work of other bloggers. The Rising Blogger Post of the Day Award is bestowed upon original content that is insightful, inspiring, newsworthy, educational, informative, touching, creative, interesting, humorous or..."

Thank you, friends.

Friday, January 02, 2009

Blog Your Blessings: One Swift Kick


For the length of a family Christmas party, a first-grade boy wears a hard plastic Rudolph nose that lights up.

At the end of the evening, an older cousin says to him with a laugh, "Sorry, but I just have to do this," and plucks the nose away from the little boy's face and snaps it.

To say "ouch" would be to say the least.

"No problem," the first-grader responds. "I just have to do this!" And he delivers a swift kick straight into the shin of the older boy.

End of conversation. "Nobody chastised A---," his father later says with a smile of pride. [I have deleted my nephew's name to protect the proactive, of course.]

Damn right they didn't, I think to myself, and I smile and laugh out loud, too. That swift kick said it all. I am an indulgent aunt; this child can do no wrong in my eyes. Nosireebob, he is perfect in every way.

Yet he assaulted a child who was only having a bit of fun at Christmas.

Right?

Isn't that right, Sandy? You do, after all, teach kids many of whom spend more time with their parole officers than with you precisely because they cannot control their anger. Your students sometimes leave school in manacles because they forget to use their words when they are angry and resort to physical violence, instead. They forget justice is a way of thinking rather than a way of behaving nowadays. What, oh what, will become of a nephew who takes justice in his own hands?

I think he will accompany my daughter when she goes out on dates. He will keep an eye on her husband one day. He will keep his aunt safe so she doesn't have to put bars on the windows someday.

He will perhaps grow up to wear adult-sized Marine fatigues not unlike the junior version he prefers to all his other pants. He will perhaps put his prompt thinking, his respect for fair play, and his refusal to tolerate abuse to good work for the good of the rest of us someday.

Right now I am grateful he takes care of himself, that he knows he is worthy of respect. And the next time some older kid tries to mess with him, the older kid will do well to remember what his first-grade teacher should have told him--"Use your words, dear."

Tonight, though, I'm going to sleep well knowing my nephew is in this world. The world needs this little man of action!

PS No sooner did I draft this than I read this: If we ever, God forbid, manage to make each child succeed with his peer group, we will produce a race of bland and faceless nonentities, and all poetry and mystery will vanish from the face of the earth. Somehow I am not worried. Surely every teacher must want each child to succeed...must hope to help him find a self, but this self must be a nonconforming self. And surely there will always be the occasional prickly child who rejects all efforts, who kicks the other children, bites teacher's hands, is unloving and unlovable, and yet who will, one day--perhaps out of this very unloveliness--create a work of art which sings of love. Madeleine L'Engle, A Circle of Quiet)

Blog Your Blessings

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Skywatch Friday: Happy New Year

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Skywatch Friday