Least brave of all. And only slightly more intelligent.
Kindness counts for something, right?
The joy of seeing my baby brought out from the back room when I pick her up from her spring tune-up appt elicits an almost involuntary “That’s my girl!”
Of course, were getting freezing rain and snow tonight. But as soon as there’s a break in the weather, my baby and I are ready.
So much of this speaks to me, and sharing it today with four different classes mostly was amazing and powerful. Heart-full. Head-full. It resonated with students in the way I hoped it would.
We will be collecting our best lines and collaborating on a tribute poem to videotape and share during the 8th grade Farewell in May. At least that is the current plan.
At the very least, not one student sat twirling his pencil or begging for a bathroom pass while we wrote today about the people and situations that have made us feel unwelcomed, unwanted, out of place…about all that we will shake off like so much dust as we finish out the last few weeks of middle school and get ready for a whole new set of challenges.
I shared the spoken word poem Shake the Dust (Anis Mojgani) with classes today. We talked about what it means to shake the dust, and wrote about times we have needed to shake the dust from our feet when leaving behind the unwelcoming, the bullying. Then we tried out writing some lines for those others who could use the encouragement to shake the dust.
These lines are from students:
For the girl who stares into her mirror, wishing it were somebody else’s face looking back, shake the dust.
For the boy too short to see beyond the locker he’s been stuffed into again, shake the dust.
This is for the kid whose family isn’t allowed back into the boyfriend’s house, not even to collect his school books, shake the dust.
This is for the middle school girl who gets the cold shoulder when she won’t go all the way. Shake the dust.
That precious great-niece I keep going on about. Swoon.
(i was already kind, and good, and smart. i had to learn to be strong.)