I popped in for a visit at the elementary school this morning. In hand, I took with me a bag full of Fortune Cookies. As it turns out, they were here for the recent celebration of Chinese New Year, but never made it out to the tables where our guests were seated, so I thought that it would be wise to share them with the students.
As it turns out, today was not about visiting with students (at least not in the usual manner). Instead, I had a wonderful visit with the staff. Before this visit though, I had a momentary encounter with one student who found himself sitting next to me for a few moments. The look on his face told me that he was deep in thought, perhaps about the reasons why he was sitting where he was.
I ventured to ask how he was doing and he answered in a rather dejected tone: Not well. The conversation that ensued was relatively stilted. I knew that he wasn't going to tell me much, at least not unless there was some level of trust established first. It wasn`t long before I noticed that he was cracking his neck (usually a sign of nervous energy), and I took this as an invitation to start a conversation about the fact that I too crack my knuckles. Although still stilted, we did make our way through the conversation, speaking about the effects of this habit (including the possiblity of developing arthritis). He almost appeared to be proud to show me how he could crack not only his fingers and his neck, but also his back, his ankles, and other joints in his body.
Before our conversation had drawn to a close, his teachers' aid arrived, accompanied by the school principal. Our conversation came to an abrupt halt as the curtain of recognition seemed to be drawn to a swift close. As he left the room, returning to class, I made sure to say goodbye, in hopes that a little bridge of hope might be maintained.
Trust is a very fragile thing. Who knows whether this encounter will lead to further conversations. Who knows whether there will be other opportunities. For some in the world, there are very few such encounters, and the less there are, the more difficult it is to learn how to trust, but hope springs eternal because every child is a unique creation. Every child deserves a chance to make a difference. Thankfully, for this one child, there are teachers who care deeply about who he is, and about who he can become. If only we could convince him of this truth, perhaps he could begin to believe in himself.
As it turns out, today was not about visiting with students (at least not in the usual manner). Instead, I had a wonderful visit with the staff. Before this visit though, I had a momentary encounter with one student who found himself sitting next to me for a few moments. The look on his face told me that he was deep in thought, perhaps about the reasons why he was sitting where he was.
I ventured to ask how he was doing and he answered in a rather dejected tone: Not well. The conversation that ensued was relatively stilted. I knew that he wasn't going to tell me much, at least not unless there was some level of trust established first. It wasn`t long before I noticed that he was cracking his neck (usually a sign of nervous energy), and I took this as an invitation to start a conversation about the fact that I too crack my knuckles. Although still stilted, we did make our way through the conversation, speaking about the effects of this habit (including the possiblity of developing arthritis). He almost appeared to be proud to show me how he could crack not only his fingers and his neck, but also his back, his ankles, and other joints in his body.
Before our conversation had drawn to a close, his teachers' aid arrived, accompanied by the school principal. Our conversation came to an abrupt halt as the curtain of recognition seemed to be drawn to a swift close. As he left the room, returning to class, I made sure to say goodbye, in hopes that a little bridge of hope might be maintained.
Trust is a very fragile thing. Who knows whether this encounter will lead to further conversations. Who knows whether there will be other opportunities. For some in the world, there are very few such encounters, and the less there are, the more difficult it is to learn how to trust, but hope springs eternal because every child is a unique creation. Every child deserves a chance to make a difference. Thankfully, for this one child, there are teachers who care deeply about who he is, and about who he can become. If only we could convince him of this truth, perhaps he could begin to believe in himself.
1 comment:
Keep it up!!! These children need you.
Post a Comment