Questioning

Today, a 5th grade girl who never gives me trouble wouldn't stop talking and bothering the other students.  I finally lost patience and sent her back to her regular classroom, banished from art for the day.  Before I left school this afternoon, I found out she had a relative commit suicide last night.  Something was wrong in her world, terribly wrong, but I didn't know how to see the clues. How will I learn to read these children, to understand what gives them cheerful faces when they are dealing with terrible things in their lives?  I feel so inadequate.

One of my second grade students cannot be good in his regular class to save his life.  However, when he gets to art,  there is no naughtiness, only a drive to create things.  I love his art.  

My students are talented and innocent and terribly sophisticated all at once.  What they know and have dealt with has the capability to shock me.  I admire them for their resilience and ability to find joy every day.  However, the idea that this pattern of drug use and suicide has the potential to be passed down in these children's lives makes my stomach hurt.

On a brighter note, a little kindergartener made this masterpiece for me this morning.  It's a 'pider no-man.' (Spider Snowman!!)

I have always felt that art can help people work their way through the tragedies and sorrows of their lives, but in real life, I can only hope that I am right. Now that I'm in a front row seat and a minor player in this drama, I have to figure out how to use my limited understanding to try to give what aid I can through art.  Tonight, however, it feels very large and I feel very small.

Thanks for stopping by- Alice