Poring over once started journals of convention notes, teenage angst, world travels, & postcards from exotic places has served to remind me of all of the parts of the world that I find joy in. I blushed a bit looking through sketchbooks from my figure painting class, laughed from the gut at memories of drenched hikes in Europe, contemplated love thinking about past relationships, sang loudly along to the song I learned on the piano on a whim a couple weeks back, rubbed the blister I got from picking up guitar one night a few weeks ago fondly, created foodie smoothies from hammer-cracked coconuts with my best friend in the kitchen & breathed in deep the smell of graphite as I drew a borrowed composition of a suspended dancer. Why did I let all of these hobbies go? I have no idea.
I have spent the last few weeks neck-deep in talking with my students about the meaning of expression. What does it mean to express yourself? How/why do people express themselves? About what? Does it mean anything to have thoughts if they are never expressed through action, words, education, or otherwise? It has been getting deep in Room 6 lately. The kids came up with beautiful explanations of current issues & how the expression of opinions about these issues constitutes authentic expression as they launch in Exhibition for the IB PYP programme at our school.
As I reflected on these conversations, I realized just how hypocritical it is for me to expect these kids to be so deep and open, when I do everything in my power each day to compartmentalize my thinking/actions to avoid offense and/or unintended openness. With faith to ground my thinking, I feel privileged to have beliefs that have given me some understanding of why I am here, but I still wonder what my purpose looks like/is. What does is actually mean to be human?
Maybe everything in life does boil back down to that kindergarten lesson...sharing is caring.
Sharing thoughts.
Sharing faith.
Share memories.
Sharing emotion.
Sharing love.
Openly & without restraint as much as possible.
How can we find any joy in life without any connection to others? How can we connect deeply without letting some part of the sheltered inner us fly like the glorious freak flags we have been gifted? 
Little activities like this remind me why it is so important to connect. We are want to belong. We all want our voice in the room, whether that is Room 6 or the world stage. Either way, it has served to remind me to find the outlet. For myself, for my family, for my students, for my friends. Express. Ponder. Explore. Care. Why else are we here?
That being said, I am starting a creative writing project. Maybe it will just end up being a few journals in my room, maybe it will be writing-fuel to keep blogging...who knows? All I know is I am curious. What makes the people around me tick? What are the honest thoughts about the important things in life that I have never asked myself or others? How will learning about the people I spend all of my time with change how I see/care about them? I bought a few moleskin journals the other day and started writing what love is to me. Today I will have new people start to write in those journals. I've toyed with the idea of having my kids write their thinking too & turn it into my best classroom keepsake to keep my memories of each child with me...their openness in responding to the last question I gave them leads me to believe that they will shock me with their thoughtful responses to a prompt to write about one time they felt loved. Anyone interested in participating, please comment on this or message or vox or text or call or pm on Facebook...you get the idea. :)
Enough prose for one Saturday morning. Off to doodle on some journal covers & drink delicious tea created by the one and only Abenie.
Songspiration this week:
Andy Grammar - Honey, I'm Good
Glass Animals - Toes
For the Foxes - Running Back to You
Jetta - Feels Like Coming Home
Something's Missing - Sheppard
Josef Salvat - Open Season
Andrew McMahon - Canyon Moon
Way to inspire the class that they thrived on (I Am Eleven trailer)
Best new local tea company founded by Ashley & Abenie (aka 2/3 of the A-Team)
Wow. Very nice post and really eloquently written- I can definitely tell you have teachers blood in you ;) I'd like to join in on this little blog if I may with responding to your prompt, "What was one time you felt loved?"
ReplyDeleteTo me this was a puzzling question; I scanned back over the 27 short years of my life and I couldn't easily pinpoint a specific moment in time where I felt loved- not because I lacked the capacity of feeling loved, no, in fact quite the opposite. I felt like I have been loved so well and for so long by my parents, friends, and others that it has become something that has morphed into a sort of normalcy and has become the statuesque. On one hand it seemed like a nice problem to have- that I couldn't easily identify a standout love filled moment because it seems all my moments have had love intertwined within them. Not to say all of my moments in my upbringing felt pleasant at the time (IE being grounded and/or punished for pestering my sister or disobeying my parents), I have just come to understand that correction from goodly parents is always based out of love. As the bible tells us in Proverbs 3:11-12, "My son, despise not the chastening of the Lord; neither be weary of his correction: For whom the Lord loveth he correcteth; even as a father the son in whom he delighteth."
On the other hand it was and still is a most frightening thought that perhaps I have come to take love, this most cherished condition, for granted- and in some cases expected. I suppose the take-a-way from this lesson is to simply learn on how to acknowledge, appreciate, and accept love in all its forms.
-Brad
Thanks for indulging my curiosity, Brad! Would you be game to write out this response in the journal when you get back from Africa? I kind of want all different handwriting in the blog (at least if it is feasible). I'm already going to be writing one other response I got in.
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