Mysteries and Wonders

My kids live in tough neighborhoods. In their world, even at age 8, the ethic is you stand your ground first and work out the details later.

The school-appropriate behavior their teacher and I expect must seem impractical at best.  It’s one of those adult secrets – the importance of tailoring behavior to the environment.  We hold it in trust until they get a few more years and experiences under their belts. My hope is that by then, it will be natural to them.

One of my charges, Amara, is making some strides. You may recall her from the first post – the impudent girl with the quick arm, always ready to take a swipe at anyone she perceives to be in her way.  I know that a team of adults is working to help her find some other ways to be in the world. One is her uncle who has talked to the teacher, Ms. Ray, about his frustration trying to find a formula she will buy into.

Meanwhile, as I got to know my kids and their learning styles, I’d been switching around the group memberships, to get the combinations of kids who could work best together. Amara was hard to match.  Nevertheless, some mixes are more combustible than others, which also means less opportunity for anyone to benefit from the group time.

Zoe's Cover

Zoe seemed worth a try. Just the two of them. Zoe is energetic and quite a talker. She holds her own in the important third-grade business of whether every tool, reward and minute of reading time is distributed fairly.  But she’s not a fighter.

After two months, with some days better than others, I was in a surprise.

The girls’ task was to write a mystery and they’d been working on it for several sessions, starting with reading one, then creating the building blocks for their own stories. Characters, mystery question, setting, clues, solution.

They created “sloppy copies” (I love their name for rough drafts!) and final clean copies. Now they were ready to draw their covers.

No skirmishes arose over who had which crayon, a very good sign.  The girls worked companionably for a few minutes, chatting about what they planned to draw.

Then Amara said, “Zoe, would you draw my house for me?”

No rancor, no threats. Just a straightforward request.

From Zoe, “Sure.”

No arrogance, no gloating at the implied message that she’s the better artist.

I stayed quiet, figuring adult intervention would break the spell.

Zoe set the conditions - she’d do Amara’s house when she finished her cover.  Amara agreed and busied herself with choosing the colors she’d want to use.

Amara's Cover

When Zoe was ready, she asked for Amara’s cover sheet, no grabbing. Amara handed it over.

“What colors do you want?”

 “Purple, blue and pink.”

“Ok.”

And so it went, with generous discussion of options for every design decision.

Midway through, decisions made, Amara started to sing a little song. Zoe knew it and sang along as she drew. The only interruption was a negotiation about whether Zoe would also draw a hover board.

“Sure.”

Then back to the singing.

While I watched in wonder.