A Spirited Child: Caroline
Caroline was a tiny third grader with big brown eyes. A little shy, she was still friendly and sociable. When she’d stop by my office at lunch now and then for a student mediator meeting or to get ready for a Character Counts Club presentation, she was more of a listener than a talker, yet fully engaged in the conversation. Not a giggler, she still smiled readily and expressively – with her eyes even more than her lips.
Near the end of her third-grade year, the whole school took part in the annual awards ceremony, along with many parents and relatives. The large gym was filled with about six hundred people. Microphone and clipboard in hand, I had to step forward from time to time to describe student programs that I had coordinated and recognize students for their achievements. Frankly, this wasn’t the part of my school counselor job that I enjoyed most; it made me feel a little shy myself . . .
I was in the middle of a sentence when I felt a sheet of paper slip from my clipboard and head for the floor. Even though I was still in my early forties and to casual observation didn’t appear disabled, by now my functional capacities were less than an average senior citizen’s. Standing in an open gym with no wall or chair for support, I had no more chance of bending to pick up that sheet of paper than retrieving a moon rock with a lunar rover. I had to pretend not to notice that I’d dropped it, and hope that it was a page of notes I’d already used.
A half minute later I was still speaking, when I caught movement from below. I realized that a child had run up to me and stood waiting for my attention. Over the years I’d learned to expect the unexpected from young children – but not in front of six hundred people!
It took several more seconds for me to reach a pause in what I was saying so I could look down, where two serious brown eyes locked into mine. Caroline was holding the paper out for me, and it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere until I’d had a chance to take it. The moment I did, and before I could even think of saying thank you, she scampered back to her place with the limber, self-effacing speed of a ball girl at a tennis match.
It was then that I noticed she’d been sitting in the front row only several yards away. That half minute before Caroline ran to me was a marathon of decision making – I’d only seen her sprint to the finish.
Have an inspiring child story to share? Please see previous post.
Near the end of her third-grade year, the whole school took part in the annual awards ceremony, along with many parents and relatives. The large gym was filled with about six hundred people. Microphone and clipboard in hand, I had to step forward from time to time to describe student programs that I had coordinated and recognize students for their achievements. Frankly, this wasn’t the part of my school counselor job that I enjoyed most; it made me feel a little shy myself . . .
I was in the middle of a sentence when I felt a sheet of paper slip from my clipboard and head for the floor. Even though I was still in my early forties and to casual observation didn’t appear disabled, by now my functional capacities were less than an average senior citizen’s. Standing in an open gym with no wall or chair for support, I had no more chance of bending to pick up that sheet of paper than retrieving a moon rock with a lunar rover. I had to pretend not to notice that I’d dropped it, and hope that it was a page of notes I’d already used.
A half minute later I was still speaking, when I caught movement from below. I realized that a child had run up to me and stood waiting for my attention. Over the years I’d learned to expect the unexpected from young children – but not in front of six hundred people!
It took several more seconds for me to reach a pause in what I was saying so I could look down, where two serious brown eyes locked into mine. Caroline was holding the paper out for me, and it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere until I’d had a chance to take it. The moment I did, and before I could even think of saying thank you, she scampered back to her place with the limber, self-effacing speed of a ball girl at a tennis match.
It was then that I noticed she’d been sitting in the front row only several yards away. That half minute before Caroline ran to me was a marathon of decision making – I’d only seen her sprint to the finish.
Have an inspiring child story to share? Please see previous post.
Posted by Paul at 5:42 PM Permalink
13 Comments:
I guess Caroline was keeping the potential of all future possibilities alive. She could empathize with the situation totally to visualize that the collapse of the teacher is actually going to affect her too. And being a child she didn’t have to bother about the tyranny of status quo.
Eventually we shall take a lot of trouble to teach Caroline to hesitate, to be afraid and to be deaf to the calls of the environment to simplify the demands on a lethargic intellect.
Or we might confuse the daylight out of her by elaborate historical constructs about sacrifices.
They never stop to amaze me.
There are many Carolines out there who need to be encouraged not stifled.
GAUTAMI: Me too. I miss my job - it was such a priviledge being around children.
This particular Caroline did get a good dose of encouragement! Her teacher's classroom was next door to my office so at the end of the day I poked my head in Robin's door just in case she'd missed Caroline's feat. She had, so I was glad that I "reported" her.
Then, after she was acknowledged by her teacher, I just happened to run into Caroline with her mom in the lobby 2 or 3 days later so I got to tell her mom about it too.
It was interesting. Her mom definitely looked pleased but it was combined with a kind of knowing look that told me she wouldn't have expected any less from her daughter.
"In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, in the expert's mind there are few."
Shunryu Suzuki
In any case, been bustin' a bone t'get some things done before Christmas and then Auntie throws up (no...not "throw up" as in puke....)
she throws up a post explaining whty Islam is evil...hmmm. I don't think I get it, and what the hey, you know me... someone threw down a gauntlet and stupid me, I pick up on it.
Then someone jumps my bones for saying something and next thing i know, there's rocks falling out'a the sky at me.
Don't get me wrong... I ain't sure, but, I think Auntie is MAKING some of 'em wear gloves, but, again, you know me well enough to know, I'm all for defending the downtrodden.
BUT
(I should have just started here, eh)
BUT, I grabbed a fair amount of my material from a history book this time ( I was going for accuracy. Wow. What a concept) and turned in my comment when I suddenly realized I may have goofed.
Strangely, the history book I had been using does mention the hitleresque death of Jews, but, not in any real detail.
No, I wasn't looking for grizzly pictures, but, I would have thought it enough of an event to warrant, at the very least, a whole page. For crying out loud, they gave Darwin a whole page!
So, what am I getting to?
Well, you know my propecity to believe that there is a fair amount of manwritten information in the bible, and, well, y'all are privy to more information than I could scrounge up from a single book like The Columbia History of the World.
I kinda wondered if you could go over to Auntie's, wander over to her Back Porch and maybe see if the accuracy is or isn't up to par?
This is a big request, isn't it?
(and, not that I have any reason to believe you're gonna go over, but, you know her address is on my sidebar and you'de have to go to her profile page and then scroll down to her Back Porch...)
Could I bribe you with a picture?
BONEMAN: Saw you'd gone, but never knew you'd come back, I'm glad. I'll definitely be looking in on your new blog.
Best thing to settle the kind of thing I've already seen go on that you refer to - I mean, for your own mind, because it's not generally possible to change other people's minds when they're being that way: Just read the Koran, then apply your own basic knowledge of human nature.
The Koran is a really small book compared to the Bible so it's easy to read. When I did, I was both bored and amazed. This was back in 82. The only impression I had of Islam was the news coverage of "Islamic" terrorists.
I put it in quotes because after I read the Koran my first thought was: Geez, these guys (terrorists) are totally violating their own religion. And while I was reading, I got bored because the Koran reads so much like the Bible. It's like yeah, yeah, yeah, I've heard all this... (I've heard that in Arabic it's much better - that the language sounds really nice, like poetry.)
You can pick out hateful passages in isolation from the Bible. I suppose you probably can from the Koran too. But it just isn't what most people of either faith generally DO in practicing their own religion.
When I lived in Arlington VA I was still working. Heard the plane go into the Pentagon. It didn't make me go "Oh! All these Muslims surrounding me! I must hide!" Why?
Because maybe a quarter of our students were Muslim. I was a counselor. I met with the parents, the kids. They were just what you'd expect: people. The only thing I could see different was the moms often wore traditional clothing but without a veil over their faces. And the kids celebrated Ramadan instead of Christmas.
That's it!
I could add that in divinity school we had visiting Islamic scholars and clergy. Didn't need to hide from any of them either, they were as gentle and educated and friendly as the rabbis and ministers.
May be we could say that the problem is how to maintain sanity without losing bandwidth.
Hail Caroline!
MARK: I found working with children truly inspiring. It’s been a major source of creativity in my life.
THURSDAYNEXT: Great! Sounds like it won’t be that one where you broke up a fight then, lol – I do remember that from one of your posts; and for that matter, I had to do that and attend to tantrums myself many times over the years. I guess that would be a different “diablog . . .”
"While we try to teach our children all about life, children teach us what life is all about." Angela Schwindt
HAYDEN, thanks. And as MWM'S quote above suggests, I feel I learned a lot from being around children all those years. If they learned a fourth as much from me I did great!
Post a Comment