25th High School Reunion
Current mood: awake

For Sharon and Abby
"first star on the right straight on 'til morning"

Everyone's been asking

how it went.

Lead up more interesting

than the event.


I

hesitate.

Slowly, cautiously

state:


It was

empowering. I am sad.

Poetry found here

is worse than bad.


I have nothing left.

Left, then, left


into letting go.

Follow me.

Left.

7:25 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Bringing Light | Racism At Borders

Tonight, I was prepared to write something sweet, positive, warm and uplifting about enjoying the home education journey. Instead, I find myself frustrated and saddened that I feel compelled to discuss something else - a recent incident of racism at Border Bookstore.

Still, I can't let go of describing the lovely lanterns we made with wax paper, pressed leaves, tissue paper, paint and old brie boxes. Lovely luminescent things which give the daylean an extra glow. I had hoped to describe the banners we made by pressing sponges covered in fall coloured fabric paint onto muslin around leaves gathered from a nature walk.

This project took weeks of gathering, executing each stage, and patience on behalf of the 4 to 6 year olds in our group. As the Autumn Equinox brought an early twilight, we arranged the lanterns in front yard and hung the banners from Mrs. Redbud. The banners seemed to make the limbs of dear Mrs. Redbud - an ancient tree who shaded the children all summer with her heart shaped leaves - stretch stronger and taller.

The next day, we took our extra lanterns to the neighbors we thought could use a "little extra light." It was a wonderful lesson. preparing for darkness; creating your own light and sharing it with others. But, this is not what I find myself writing about tonight.

Tonight, I'm writing to call your attention to a brave sister's struggle against racism at Borders. Amanda Johnston is an educator and superb writer. Two things inspire me about this story. First, she is not just letting it blow over. Second, is that she has devised a comprehensive strategy to cure the insidious and calculated exclusion of Black poets from mainstream booksellers. Her strategy for redress is strong, positive and could benefit Borders in the long term. She has made her concerns logically and politely. And she has has climbed the customer service ladder with consistent diligence in the effort to get an appropriate response.

She has obviously ruffled some feathers because the Borders Union is sending "anonymous" haters to her blog in order to demoralize her. They are being offensive, racist and hostile. Read that rubbish here:
http://www.bordersunion.org/node/13853?page=0%23comment

Find the whole ordeal here:
http://amandajohnston.blogspot.com/

SOME EXCERPTS FROM THE ORDEAL:
http://amandajohnston.blogspot.com/
"Please Don't Call The Manager, I Just Want To Buy Some Books"
On Wednesday, Sept. 26, 2007 during my lunch break I went to Borders (the Westgate location on S. Lamar, Austin, TX) with a friend to use my birthday $50 gift card. You know I was happy. I looked for the literary journals, as I always do. I found that they had moved the journals to behind the counter. Way behind the counter. I couldn't even read the spines. I asked the man why the journals are back there. He said they had been having problems with people messing them up and taking them. I explained that I couldn't read them. He called his manager. She came to the front, I explained and she gave me a copy of each to flip through at the counter. While at the counter I heard the other clerks asking customers if they are educators because there is a special 25 percent off if they were. When folks hesitated at the question, I heard the clerks say, "Well, have you every taught anyone anything in your whole life?" Of course the customers then remembered the time they taught a Sunday school class or that time they taught their Boy Scout troupe how to fish. The clerks gave them the discount; they took their books and left.

As I stood there flipping through the journals, I noticed that the line was getting long. The man called his manager for "back up." I'm standing right next to him and heard him say, "Oh no, it's not that, the line is just getting long." I raised an eyebrow; made my selection from the journals and moved on to the poetry section of the store. I came back to the counter with an arm full of books and proceeded to check out. I heard the same conversation about the 25 percent off and watched more people get the discount and leave. I'm next at the counter with the same man that "helped" me earlier; he started to scan my books and said, "Oh, I'm supposed to ask if you're an educator." I said yes. Now……wait for it…………..he asks for my I.D. to prove it. What the fuck!!! I knew it was going to happen. I knew it, but I didn't want it to. I hated wasting energy processing the question before it happened, thinking of my St. Edward's University Staff I.D. in my wallet (yessir, I got papers). I hated every minute of it. So I stopped and pointed out that no one else had to go through that, no one else was asked for I.D. He called his manager. She tells me, and I kid you not, "Miss, you were not treated differently than anyone else. I've known him for a year and that's not like him." Then she asked what she could do to make this better. Am I wrong for being even more offended by this? The wink wink, nudge nudge, come on lady, we know you just want some free shit so tell us what's it gonna take to make this go away.......

From "What I think will 'rectify the situation.'"
Unfortunately it has happened and there is no undoing that. The idea of accepting a gift certificate secretly through the mail adds further insult to injury. It is a red stamp that I am a "situation" being handled and not a person being cared for out of respect and genuine concern.

WHAT YOU CAN DO:
1. Stop by her blog and offer just a small positive comment to keep up her spirits.

2. Contact Borders saying that, if needed, you will boycott until they have honored her requests.

By web
https://www.bordersstores.com/care/care.jsp?page=7

Snail and phone:
1-888-81-BOOKS.
7:00 AM-9:00 PM CT (Central Time) Monday-Friday,
8:00 AM-7:00 PM on Saturday and 10:00 AM-7:00 PM CT on Sunday.

Borders Customer Service
100 Phoenix Drive
Ann Arbor, MI 48108

In conclusion, think about what those employees are really saying:
1. Blacks are neither educators or educated.
2. Black literature is sub-standard.
3. Racial profiling is an acceptable practice.
4. Blacks are consumers who should have no real expectation of service or respect. We are all simply potential situations.

This goes against the grain of every concept I have been teaching for the past month. Tonight, I will light our lantern. Tonight, I plan to support Amanda by bringing a little light to Borders. I hope you'll join me.

Thanks for listening.

6:55 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

: How Can We Be A DiversCity and Exclude?
Current mood: angry
Category: News and Politics

View Between The Chain Link Fence
an open letter to Duane T. Ashley
Director Of City Of Pittsburgh Parks & Recreation

Dear Mr. Ashley,

I shouldn't even care enough to write this letter. I'm not Muslim. I don't have any disabilities. I'm not a recent burn victim. I'm not the nursing mother of new-born baby whose breasts are still leaking. And,

thanks to some hard work by people I don't even know, I can take my African-American self and family to the first pool integrated in the City Of Pittsburgh - the Highland Park Pool. To be honest, most days, I just enjoy the sun, my family, the water. I admit that I've never stopped to give thanks or blessings that I can be there legally and comfortably. Until today.

I arrived at the Highland Park Pool. In the dressing room, I discover my husband suit is in the swimming bag, not mine. I looked at my outfit: tight leggings and a lycra blouse which resembles half the suits at the pool. I could easily jump in the water if needed. It is my mistaken belief that this is no big deal. So, I dress my son and out we go.

Fifteen minutes later, I was politely confronted about breaking Rule 2 - all persons in the pool area must be in swim wear. Being honest, I inform them I mistakenly packed my husband's suit. If I had wanted to be dishonest - I would have slipped off my trousers and sat in my matching black lycra knickers for the rest of the afternoon - minus the sanitary napkin. But, since I was honest, I was told that I'd have to leave.

Just out of curiosity and in a non-confrontational manner, I asked if I had a suit under my clothes, could I keep them on. The answer was no - I must "display" some portion of my suit. Okay, it was easy for me to leave my son with friends; zip home change into the suit and dash back. Which is what I did with a smile on my face.

On my way home, I became a bit agitated. What if I were Muslim and needed to wear a modest bathing suit? What if I had a medical condition and took medicine which prevented me from being able to withstand direct sunlight? What if I was a burn victim and couldn't display my fore arms or upper thighs? The list kept churning and churning.

Alongside of the scrolling mental list of whom else this policy excludes from using a public facility, my personal observations set in. Why is it that men are allowed in the pool wearing "swim trunks" and t-shirts. Why is it that only women must "display" their pelvic area or breasts? And no matter how long a woman's "big t-shirt" is, there isn't enough seating by the kiddie pool not to display some of her vaginal area. Sometimes, it is discomfiting to know exactly how much pubic hair my neighbour has. And why does this policy only apply to patrons? Why aren't the glorious, ample women of African descent who are staff members obliged to "display" their wares? The rule says, "all."

I just recently returned to Pittsburgh from living in London, England. I have expressly chosen to make this city my home. It is my firm and unyielding belief that Pittsburgh is the greatest city in which to live on this planet. In London, I made my feminist peace with women and children in burqas. I watched girls splashing and laughing in modest bathing suits side by side with nude British children. I often watched mothers in full burqas drinking tea by the pool side next to mothers of all sizes in bikinis swigging a pint. Neither group ever looked sidelong at the other. I am grateful to have the experience of a truly inclusive and diverse community. On my way back to the pool, I began to understand that Pittsburgh may be diverse - but the pools are not inclusive.

I arrived back at the pool. I enjoyed my son. As we were leaving, I stopped at the front desk to inquire as to whom I might call or write a letter. The woman at the desk wanted to discuss the issue further with me before giving me the information. Here are some of the highlights of our discussion:

ME: What if I were a Muslim and I wanted my children to swim?

CITIPARKS: You'd have to wear all that business like the tights and shirt and then put a regular suit over it.

(SIDE NOTE: Please stop here and bring up a mental image of a woman in a burqa or hijab with a bikini on top. Now, get serious and follow along.)

ME: Define "regular." Do you mean a bathing suit derivative of a European design?

CITIPARKS: You were raised in this culture, you know what regular means. It means a bathing suit. A one piece or a bikini.

ME: So, if I got a Muslim approved modest bathing suit and wore it, I wouldn't be allowed to wear it?

CITIPARKS: If you want to go through all of that business you should just go to a private pool.

ME: But, that just makes it an issue of religious intolerance and classism.

CITIPARKS: It's for your safety. We've had gang fights in here because people aren't wearing bathing suits.

ME: I understand you've had to deal with a lot of knuckleheads. Including people with disabilities or a relgious mandate is different.

CITIPARKS: We've been all through this and the rule is never changed.

It made me wonder how many Muslim families have just decided that the battle is not worth it? But - the battle is worth it to me. I'm angry. I'm furious that my son is being denied the right to swim at a pool with children of all religions, abilities, races, classes and genders. It made me furious that a mother would be denied the right to properly supervise her child at a pool due to the same reasons above.

None of this affects me personally. So why should I give a single thought to anybody else and their issues? Because having all kinds of people in my community makes my life richer. It makes my life full. I enjoy sharing inclusive, accepting, non-judgemental space with other human beings. 'm not leaving Pittsburgh again. I've come too far to turn back now. I believe the beauty of Pittsburgh lies in the fact that we have the power to make it to be whatever we need it to be. I need to raise my son in an inclusive and diverse city.

This weekend I was really looking forward to the "DiversCity Festival." This City Of Pittsburgh event promised to reinforce my vision of this city as the perfect place to live, raise children and live well. But, now, I wonder, exactly how inclusive will they really be if they can't even modify a rule about attire at a public pool. But, I will turn out and support the vision - even if it is not truly enacted in all city-wide spaces.

Because it seems that, according to Citiparks, if you want to be modest for health or religious reasons, you have to stand on the other side of the gate looking in.

I'm open to all suggestions about action. But, in the meantime, if you don't want to leave mothers and others on the wrong side of the chain link fence, please call:

Duane Ashley, CitiParks Director
412 - 255 - 2539

Or email Mayor Luke Ravenstahl:
mayorcompl@city.pittsburgh.pa.us

Remember:

1. Be polite.
2. State that Citiparks Pool Rule 2 needs to be revised as it discriminates against people due to their religion and/or physical ability.
3. Ask him to clarify to you why the policy requires only the "display" of female erogenous areas.
4. Ask him why Rule 2 only applies to patrons and is not applied equally and unilaterally across the board.
5. Ask him to consider sensitivity training for all staff members regarding intolerance.

Thanks.

7:35 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

RedMan
Category: Life

after almost being attacked with a matt knife at work today

he is like a paper doll,

talisman or totem

my flat glowing friend -


arms, legs of frozen light

splayed open. dismissed at the push

of a button. a timed signal


still .......... that flat crimson dummy warns

stop ............. look ............ this bitch

has me in her eyes -


steady unblinking command

backed up

by a fleet of trucks on her tongue.


first my spine straightened

then my head cocked to one side

only silence and eyes in this intersection.


the stanley knife swished.

today the boy killed a wall.

God/dess bless my children.

10:31 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Transformation
Category: Life

disjointed piece. sick. tired. deliriously happy

It has been a long day. Lovely. Amazing. Incredible. But long.

As a ..reward,.. we took the kids across to Hampton Court palace. They were all happy to be getting out of ..school... The staff was excited. It ended up being a very free form day. Why? Because the kids have learned how to become engaged with historical sites. they could be ..trusted to ..learn... And learn they did!

I somehow ended up with kids who hadn..t been on the project. It was a different experience. Part of me regrets not falling inside of the enthusiasm of the youth with whom I..ve spent so many weeks. Part of me is delighted to infect new children with a love of learning.

The regulars - I..ve given them code names.

..Act Out Youth.. has severe attention challenges.

..Invisi-Youth.. wouldn..t even let us use their name or look at them. (Yes, I spent three weeks talking to this youth with my head turned to the side as if I were talking to an invisible friend.

..Sensi-Tall.. is great with one-on-one, but freezes and worries constantly about being perfect. Sensi is fascinated with The Royals.

..Silence.. has spoken a total of 100 words to me in this six week journey. ..Silence,.. however,r wrote me a lovely metered poem - voluntarily. And read it not once - but four times in our group meeting and another three for the videographer. (So, we..ve had maybe a total of 700 articulations in 6 weeks.)

When I did get a chance to check in with my regular students, I saw a most awesome spin. Throughout the day, we saw a very different dynamic, Act Out youth was shunned or avoided by Silence, Sensi-Youth and Invisi-Youth. More importantly, they would find positive ways to slip away or urge Act Out Youth forward - so they could....learn.

At one point during the day, Act Out Youth was getting loud.

Invisi - Youth turns to this person and says, ..Ssssh! I can..t hear my audio tour...

What is this? Peer pressure to engage with education? Unheard of! Unnatural! Teenagers who want to listen to history on an audio tour of a historic site?

Regardless, they were willing to embrace Act Out Youth in moments of co-operation. And when Act Out Youth was out of control, they found creative solutions to redirect the energy.

But, the fact remains - they did the work the teachers were supposed to do. And we..ve learned. If they are given responsibility for their own education, they will find a way for the entire group to learn, whilst at the same time seizing and safeguarding their own opportunities.

More importantly - the teachers gave them the space to work this out for themselves.

10:32 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

For All the Whores Who Want My Friendship

Have we ever partied together?
Have you ever been to my house?
Yeah - which one?

Have we discussed poetry and art late into the night together?
Yes? What was I drinking?

If so - please forgive me for not remembering you.

If not - I just don't take the word "friend" loosely.
My friends are just that....people
who share emotional, spiritual and intellectual space with me.

If that means I only have 44 -
then I'm a lot better off than
people with hundreds of acquaintances.

Because - my love is forever and transcends
fair weather politics and a dead body to float me
when I'm overboard. I'm ready

to get anyone's back. Knowing
they've got mine is in my marrow and corpuscles.
I forgive time and distractions -
all of us busy people live.
Once given - unless of some unspeakable trespass -
your spark of soul eternally pumps my heart.
This is living a full life.

10:16 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Tower Of London - Pillar Of Wisdom

It has been a whirlwind here. My project, Rapping On Walls at The Tower Of London progresses at an astonishing pace. It has become a tremendously successful project. I am well pleased.

I..ve been working with 12, 13 and 14 year old kids from Tower Hamlets who are in ..Pupil Referral Units... (You get into a PRU by being so anti-social that you have been ..excluded from school. Or, you..re just an immigrant who can..t speak the Queen..s English well enough. ) Videographer, Jason Larkin and I will work with the kids on turning these into ..word videos... I..ve been trying to get these kids to write text pieces in the voices of the walls of the Tower. (During the first session, the majority of them wouldn..t even tell me their name...that was a 1/2 hour project.)

Session Four and we have had a major break through last week. They..ve written some fantastic poems! Just in the nick of time to shoot this week!

But, more importantly, we - as a group - have single-handedly changed the perception of PRU kids! At the beginning, any interaction with the kids by Tower staff was greeted with harumphs and great sighs about performing one's duty. But, my kids have fallen so deeply in love with The Tower - that there is quite a buzz around the Tower about the project.

We did have one typical PRU incident.... They had new Royal Guards the other day. The kids are fascinated by them. I have two very pretty and verbal girls who decided they were going to make them laugh. And they did - during the Changing Of the Guard!!!! (They never laugh. It is one of the favourite things tourists like to do. They never succeed. ) Their Sergeant was so pissed that as they left, the marched straight towards my kids, shouted, "Make way for the Queen's Guard!" so loudly the kids all jumped and scrambled out of their way. I feel bad for the guards. They were disciplined for it. And it's not nice to tease the guards. But - it was pretty funny that they did it. I guess I taught them the power of the spoken word. But, that one incident - making a Royal Guard commit GOD...Giggling On Duty - has been forgiven.

Everyone is talking about how knowledgeable the kids are, how many questions they have, how they beg to see things again and again. I suppose former art projects have had lots of "troubled kids" unleashed upon the Tower behaving bizarrely and scaring the staff and tourists. But - my kids have been so awesome that on the day of their premiere, they are going to let them cut the ribbon on the opening of the Jewel House Gift Shoppe!!!! Needless to say - it has taken a lot of focus.

In addition - the outreach staff are well pleased with me. The teachers have set aside their curriculum in favour of the project. They've been using my exercises, introducing movies and discussions about Tower history and following my "curriculum" for the past four weeks! In addition, the kids are so excited that....the teachers are "rewarding them" for their good behaviour by taking them on field trips to other historical sites! The outreach staff seems most pleased by this outcome!

(Small world moment - it has been really fun to work on this project because Spex - the lead singer from Asian Dub Foundation - is a teaching assistant at our PRU and has been a generous support.)

More importantly, this project has served to demonstrate that the philosophy of directed autonomy is such an effective teaching style. And it gives me hope for my journey with Winston. Unschooling is so much harder than traditional education! But, all of us are having so much fun learning together! And it gives me so many ideas about fixing the educational system with autonomous education and the power of the incredible focused attention through higher student -teacher ratios that the PRU..s already have in place.

(Oh, God, what a sad thought. I'll never get out of England.)

On the home front:
Imani is back at Leeds. Involved in her life. Winston is well or - as well as having a working mother and living in the typically British isolation permits. He is an awesome storyteller, painter and dancer. The violin progresses slowly. (I am disappointed. He never practices, but, performs his tasks miraculously well at each lesson so the teacher thinks he is doing his work everyday. So, she progresses him along. (Art as a discipline is getting lost in this exercise. Art is work. Hard work, endless futile exercises and the resulting joy in the effort involved with generating excellence. Not being learned here....very sad.)

But - we progress and if nothing else, I have learned to trust the learner's learning process and to have patience.

12:38 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Sorry,

Ive become something of a nervous wreck. More so since yesterday. Suddenly, I have to get my son back to Pittsburgh for proper, safe treatment. We cant afford it. But - something has to happen.

I keep flashing back to last year when we had our first run in with the NHS. I keep remembering Winston - thin as a famine victim - and the refusal of the doctors to treat him.

When I close my eyes, the image of him passing in and out of consciousness in front of them. Hearing their proper, imperious voices insisting that he simply sleeps.

i can almost feel the rage in my bones, when I demanded an I.V. My mouth becomes sticky and flat remembering how they eventually gave him an I.V.; drew blood and informed me hours later that he was probably 2 hours from kidney failure.

So sorry, they said, he may have some long term kidney failure. He just presented so well.

Presented so well? You mean he is an above-average kid hell bent on survival? Meaning, he has above average language skills? Meaning, he is a kid who has been given good reason to believe that the adults in his life love him and will care for him? Meaning, we have earned the ultimate trust he has placed in us? So he doesnt have to scream, rage and carry on? Presented well? Those fat cheeks reduced to hollows? Luminous, fevered eyes? Bones showing through his torso, arms, legs, begging, begging for juice, water, breastmilk? Vomiting or passing it within minutes? This is a child who presents well?

I return again and again to trying to get the G.P. to test his urine and recommend us for an ultrasound of his kidneys. Im trying to follow up on the damage they may have done to him. And no, his urine still doesnt smell right. Yes, tests have not been given. It has been a year and we still cant find out one way or the other whether or not they damaged him for life last year.

Then, I imagine submitting him into these hands for a surgery I do not want. What if I say, his breathing looks off. Or maybe, I dont like the look of his eyes. Or maybe after the surgery, i say, He cant identify the number 8. What will they say to me?

Youre overreacting. Hes too young to do these things. Thats what theyll say. And theyll send me home with a brain damaged kid with no upper teeth until he is 7 or 8 years old.

Because, when it comes to the medical treatment of my child I know:
+ not to over react;
+ to research all aspects of the problem;
+ to engage in an intellectual, detached, almost clinical manner with health practitioners;
+ to suffer necessary treatment with a calm smile so he feels relaxed;
+ to make the giving of health care easy for the practitioner.

It is a cold, hard place to find within oneself. Every mother feels each wrenching bite of pain their child experiences. It is as if the ghost of an umbilical cord forever unites our bodies.

I do not overreact. And they will claim that I am after they have damaged him.
For financial reasons, they will end us home...

and theyll say, Sorry. Because that word fixes everything here. It is used so often for everything from trying to get off a bus to smacking someone in the face to almost killing their child. It is a meaningless social code which really means, I am now absolved of any responsibility for damage I have done you.

This is the National Hell System.

5:47 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Saga Of The Teeth

(Why the NHS sucks so much shit)

We showed up this morning at the Royal London Hospital Emergency Dental Clinic. We were actually seen! How tremendous is that?!?

We were only seen because I complained. I had sent a referral form in January. They searched their computer. Lo! And behold! We were in there...

as unresponsive to follow-up mail. I never got any mail. She checked our address. It was wrong. So, she accessed a scanned copy of our correspondence. (Thank you all geeks of the world. Thank you on bended knee.) They had put the address in wrong.

My legs needed a victory dance. But, I refrained. We would get care. That was enough of a win for me. We waited a better part of the morning. But, we visited with a dentist. She sent us downstairs for x-rays. (Glory Hallelujah! X-ray technology being made available to my son! Can you believe it? X-ray technology! In England! We warranted the expense of an x-ray!)

Must be pretty bad.

Winston was a trooper. All of this attachment parenting stuff is excellent for getting good behaviour in dire situations. (Everyone made a comment that they had never witnessed a child his age who could: stay so still; was absolutely trusting when I said it wouldnt hurt; and was well-mannered to boot. Score one for The Highland Park Playgroup and Dr. Sears)

This made them want to help us. (Obviously I wasnt some idiot, uncaring parent who needed to be told what was what about caring for children.) So they offered us the only help they could offer. I might add they did do it sheepishly and with apology.

So - basically as it stands now. Winston needs to have 3 teeth extracted. there is no help for those. The other upper remaining 7 can be filled and managed. However, the waiting list for fillings is 6 months long. Whereas, he can get treatment in 2 months if I agree to have every single last upper tooth removed. And, if I wait 6 months - with the current rate of decay - they all have to come out anyway.

They offer no replacement teeth - no denture system. He has to be toothless for the next 3 to 7 years.

This is health care in the U.K. I am weeping here tonight. I could care less about my wonderful jobs.

5:45 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

The Precious Value Of An Example

Spring actually looks as if she may decide to take up residence in London. As a result, the days improve. When the weather is cordial, I don't miss human beings. Who could need a an in-the-flesh person when they have daffodils, a crocuses, pansies, and the promise of hyacinth blooms? Who could desire face-to-face conversation when the deer press against the fence to eat fresh new leaves out of your hand.

Perhaps, Winston has a certain wisdom. It is the quality of a human-being which inspires the desire for contact. With few exceptions to this rule, our discovery has been to uncover the quality of ourselves.

It was a great day. Working so much has made me less of the mother I wish to be. I am less patient, less present, less spontaneous. So, those days when I get to be with him, simply shine. Even more so, with the warmth and tentative promise of light this season brings.

Winston got it into his head to go swimming today. So we headed off for Highbury Islington pool. It was the very first time ever we went swimming. Winston has his father's modesty gene. I forgot to pack a shirt to wear in the pool. He almost refused to go out into the pool "naked." But, I headed it off by saying, "Well let's see. Let's just go see what the boys are wearing." And he did want to try this swimming thing. So, once we got out there and saw other "naked" boys. He relaxed.

I stepped right into the bath warm water. Grinned and shouted, "this is so lovely!" Which of course motivated him to step in. He loved the way the water became deeper with every step. Within moments he was in. I whirled, swirled and flew him through the water. He climbed out of the pool to slide down the elephant. And I caught him each time as he splashed into the water. He was so relaxed. And in that moment, I I realised that in almost three years, I had earned his absolute trust and confidence. It was lovely. It made me pray, right then and there, that I never do anything to betray that.

After swimming, we had a lovely lunch and went to the playground. Our usual round of sliding, climbing and playing with sand. I had forgotten the sand toys.

But, he looked up at me and said, "well we can always use our hands."

"And sticks!"

"Good idea. Sticks."

So, we made letters, numbers and swished and poked the sand. It was extraordinary. I was thrilled by the way in which he could so forgivingly 1. come up with an alternative; 2. force me to improvise and 3. make me grateful that I had made the mistake of forgetting the pails, shovels and trucks.

He was - as usual - a wee bit skittish. He doesn't like to get to close to other children. he sand pit was full of children about his age. But, we were doing our own thing and he relaxed. (We do our thing really well.)

Towards the end of the day - of course - some child came up to Winston. The little boy filled his spade with sand and before I could stop him - dumped it on Winston's head. His mother shrugged, said "sorry" and meandered off to have a rest on a bench after telling the boy what a "stupid silly boy" he was.

He shrugged it off. These events - being pushed, shoved, ignored and made to feel invisible - used to devastate him.

This time, he loudly said, "That was a really bad idea. Dumping sand on my head. That was very naughty."

"You are right. I'm glad you don't do those things."

"Yes. I don't be naughty. I not mean. I a good boy." Then he went back to playing.

And I begin to think - after so many encounters like this - I'm glad he is wary of the children here. It demonstrates that he has good survival skills. He has a profound wisdom. Never settle for less than you deserve. Make the right choices for yourself. Stay true to your values in the face of a majority which consistently makes the wrong choices.

NOTE: For my British friends, yes, things are actually different than this back home. 2 and 3 year old can learn to be empathetic, compassionate, sharing, generous and social human being who are active, considerate community builders.

12:40 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment