Back last July, I had an early morning doctor's appointment and the needed to show up for work at the garden center. The appointment went well but not the return to the car. Rain had been pouring steadily all morning and had not let up. When I turned the key, I was greeted with the sound of silence. Not even the click click click of a dead battery. I decided this would be a good time to check out the Triple A membership I had recently talked myself into. A very nice sounding lady informed me my wait time would be 45 minutes to an hour. I gave her my location and raced the raindrops back to the building. There was a very nice walkway with a wide cover parallel to the building with semi-comfortable benches. I decided the damp cool air and sound of the rain outside trumped the frigid air and sound of TV and human chatter inside. I took my seat on one of the benches and began to enjoy some time with nothing to do or place to go because I couldn't. I had my pen and notebook with me and what follows is the result. At the end is a 6 month update.
In just a few weeks, my five year old granddaughter's life will change forever. She will leave that safe, secure place called home become a part of that great American attempt at democracy called public school. I try to think of some good advice I could give her. After all I have spent all but 6 of my 69 years somehow associated with education both public and private. 12+4+2 years as the person looking toward the teacher's desk, and all the others looking out from the teacher's desk. Surely, I should be able to come up with some words of wisdom to ease her anxious little mind. Some words that would excite her about the adventure about to start. Sound words to warn her of the day her ears may start to bleed for the drone of the teacher's voice. Words to soothe, to relax, to excite, to warn, to encourage, to give strength, to instill patience, tolerance, kindness, and understanding for others. Teachers included.
Words to remind her of what a precious gift she is and what she has to offer to others, and words to never doubt how much she is loved.
But she is only 5. A precocious 5 and diva in training. What words could possibly contain all the hope, joy, love, pain, sorrow, that this journey she is beginning will bring. Should I tell her that some the best days of my life have been spent classrooms. The days that brought the joy of learning new things, discovering the great ideas of Plato, Socrates, Poe, Emerson. The magic of the poetry of Frost, Eliot, cummings, and countless others. The wonder of the progression of life from the tiny beating speck to the loudly peeking chicks Mrs. Titus told me I had to get out of her classroom right then. The day of watching students' faces when they understood something new. Should I tell her that some of the worst days of my life also occurred in a classroom. The day I heard MY President had been shot, the day I heard MLK and RFK had been shot. The day the Twin Towers went down and the day of too damn many school shooting. What can I say to her? How can I prepare her?
I CAN'T. There are not words. She like everyone before her will have to find her own way. She will have her laughter, smiles, and joys. She will have her pain, her heartaches, her own darkest days.
The only thing I can do is assure her with my presence. I can only show her how much I love her, support her, be there for her when she needs a hug, a shoulder to cry on, an explanation why she might not always be right. It may be from a phone call, or it may require a 2 hour drive. But all I can tell her is that I am here. Even when i may no longer be physically here. Then show her.
Words come far too easy for most of us. They can drop off the tongue like to cooling liquid to a parched soul. Being there trumps words. Here I could further discourse over words and actions, but will save that for a later time.. Now it is about my granddaughter and her great new adventure. About the first step to forever changing her life. Funny it was only yesterday her mother began that same journey, or so it seems. Now it is her turn to cry on that first day like I did several years ago. Just remember Vivian, Bop Bop is always here for you Vivian whether you see or hear him or not.
In just a few weeks, my five year old granddaughter's life will change forever. She will leave that safe, secure place called home become a part of that great American attempt at democracy called public school. I try to think of some good advice I could give her. After all I have spent all but 6 of my 69 years somehow associated with education both public and private. 12+4+2 years as the person looking toward the teacher's desk, and all the others looking out from the teacher's desk. Surely, I should be able to come up with some words of wisdom to ease her anxious little mind. Some words that would excite her about the adventure about to start. Sound words to warn her of the day her ears may start to bleed for the drone of the teacher's voice. Words to soothe, to relax, to excite, to warn, to encourage, to give strength, to instill patience, tolerance, kindness, and understanding for others. Teachers included.
Words to remind her of what a precious gift she is and what she has to offer to others, and words to never doubt how much she is loved.
But she is only 5. A precocious 5 and diva in training. What words could possibly contain all the hope, joy, love, pain, sorrow, that this journey she is beginning will bring. Should I tell her that some the best days of my life have been spent classrooms. The days that brought the joy of learning new things, discovering the great ideas of Plato, Socrates, Poe, Emerson. The magic of the poetry of Frost, Eliot, cummings, and countless others. The wonder of the progression of life from the tiny beating speck to the loudly peeking chicks Mrs. Titus told me I had to get out of her classroom right then. The day of watching students' faces when they understood something new. Should I tell her that some of the worst days of my life also occurred in a classroom. The day I heard MY President had been shot, the day I heard MLK and RFK had been shot. The day the Twin Towers went down and the day of too damn many school shooting. What can I say to her? How can I prepare her?
I CAN'T. There are not words. She like everyone before her will have to find her own way. She will have her laughter, smiles, and joys. She will have her pain, her heartaches, her own darkest days.
The only thing I can do is assure her with my presence. I can only show her how much I love her, support her, be there for her when she needs a hug, a shoulder to cry on, an explanation why she might not always be right. It may be from a phone call, or it may require a 2 hour drive. But all I can tell her is that I am here. Even when i may no longer be physically here. Then show her.
Words come far too easy for most of us. They can drop off the tongue like to cooling liquid to a parched soul. Being there trumps words. Here I could further discourse over words and actions, but will save that for a later time.. Now it is about my granddaughter and her great new adventure. About the first step to forever changing her life. Funny it was only yesterday her mother began that same journey, or so it seems. Now it is her turn to cry on that first day like I did several years ago. Just remember Vivian, Bop Bop is always here for you Vivian whether you see or hear him or not.