The Burden Of Love (Jonathan Toews)

Expression. 18

Emilia

As school starts to wind down I focus more on making sure that the kids will be okay without this classroom setting to fall back on. The world is unforgiving at times and it doesn't matter if you're just a kid. Life is waiting for them outside these doors, they will be in middle school by the end of summer and they need to be ready. Not just for going to a different school but learning how to deal with all new kinds of people.

One thing I realize is that kids struggle with is expression. There's many forms of expression but even then it is still hard for kids to use it. Most of the issues these children face comes from lack of communication simply because they don't know how. I can't tell you how many times I see frustrations hit a boiling point when it could have easily been resolved a while ago.

Today's form of expression is poetry. Now these kids aren't going to write a poem every time someone at summer camp calls them a name and they feel threatened. But putting our feelings down on paper in such a artistic way is a great form of a coping mechanism. It does allow the kids to create with their words and make art. It doesn't even have to rhyme, I mean Dr. Suess made up words to make a rhyme it's not like it's needed. But I like to make them rhyme.

So they all had a two day project. Write a poem based off of things they wish they could say but never do. When things get bundled they build up and we explode. That's why expression is so important. Now they get to express what they feel in a way that is more fun.

"Who wants to share first" I ask the class. Everyone kind of looks around not really ready to put thier heart out on the line. Finally I see a hand come up but it wasn't who I thought it would be. "Kenny, you want to share with the class what you did" I ask.

He nods his little head as he hops out of his desk. We got one of the little ones from the kindergarten class to put in here just for him. I had worked with him on his poem over the last few days because a five year old doesn't have much trouble letting their feelings be known. But putting it into a poem is a bit harder. I think he did great and he couldn't wait to share with the class.

He clears his throat and I smile a bit. He was quite the actor and I loved how he wasn't shy. He was what this class needed to feel comfortable and know that they're being heard.

"Family means a lot to me
And it's not what you see when you look at a tree
I'm more like a apple that has fallen down
And picked up by someone who is always around
I've learned so much and I want to know more
Turn every stone and open every door
I know that I'm loved and I'm safe where I am
Miss Emmie and Jonny will do all that they can
To give me a life I dream about
Make me feel like my head is up in a cloud
And you guys are like my family too
A bunch of apples that are good for you" he finishes.

The whole class cheers simply because it was Ken. He could have said anything and they would have loved it. But Ken really views this class as his family and that's why he doesn't go to day care. He wants to be here with me and his friends and it makes my heart full that they accept him in such a way.

After he sits down everyone was ready to share. There was some beautiful poems filled with words that had some pain and some sense of hope. We don't shy away from the bad here but rather face it head on. I know these kids leave this place and go to a home that doesn't always feel like a home. And keeping that in doesn't make them feel stronger. It makes them feel weaker and eventually their words will never come out. They stay inside you and rot until the smell becomes unbearable. But now, at least for a little while, they are free. And they see that maybe others feel the same way they do.

"Miss Emmie where's your poem" Janet asks me.

"Yeah! We want to hear yours" Jamal adds on.

"I have one. But I wanted everyone to go first because it's your voices we needed to hear. But since we're done I can go" I nod.

I grab my paper and stand at the front of the class. I made my poem for these kids to know that their path is not made for them. And they'll be labeled as bad kids, poor kids, useless to spend our time on. But I want them to know that that's not true. Not in the slightest.

"Do you life is as simple as "sinner" or "saint"?
That it is filled up of either "it is" or "it ain't"?
In reality you can't have one without the other
No matter what they say in the book that they mutter
Life is a lot more like yin and yang
No matter how great it is you can't stop the pain
From coming, you have to take the good with the bad
Sinners or saints, there's much more to add.
For no one is pure of either side
No one has no remorse, or nothing to hide.
So when we label these people as demon or angel
There is a little bit of each other the gets caught up and tangled.
No one is perfect and no one is awful
Make your own opinions instead of reciting a gospel
At the end of the day it's not up to us to judge
Just use what you know and spread the love."

I look out over the classroom of faces that come from different homes and different ideologies. And maybe this poem doesn't make sense to them yet, but they'll understand. Once they leave here and go off to middle school and start to make something out of themselves they'll see that they don't have to be a sinner or a saint. They can be whatever it is their little hearts desires. No one will give them worth until they give it to themsleves. No Bible or parent should dictate what becomes of these kids. And they might be too young to see that. But I just want them to know.

"Miss Emmie I don't want to go to middle school if you're not teaching" Khalil says and I smile.

"Dear boy, you are going to do great things. And you're not going to do them following me around. Part of growing is moving on. Your life doesn't end here, it starts here. I'll be cheering you all on along the way" I assure him.

"Good" he smiles.