Wild things

There is a frightful joy in wildness. The children in my class remind me daily of the beauty that lies in vulnerable independence. They scream, run, sing, dance, cry and desire so deeply that sometimes I am startled by the stifling rationality of adulthood. Sometimes I feel they have converted me, and I want so badly to follow each impulse, to throw my shoes away, and lie in the sunshine, drinking lemonade and reading dazzlingly, heart aching poetry.
Today they reminded me that one of the greatest gifts we can give each other is trust. Trust in the creative process, in compassion, failure and the inner resilience of little ones. Today my son reminded me of the importance of pride and love, in moments of fear and regret. He reminded me of the importance of saying, “I am so proud of you, because you tried even though you felt afraid.”
Tonight, I would like very much to express to you all of the hard work, enthusiasm and playfulness that filled our day. I would also like to talk about the inspiring work of my co-teacher and the rejuvenating words I’ve been reading from Chris Mercogliano. In the mean time I’ll just write that I am grateful for work that allows me to sing, dance, empathize and search myself deeply each day.

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