this morning i have an eight o' clock class that i truly enjoy getting up for.
it's SPE 400, a class that teaches about teaching children with special needs. it's one of those rare classes that the teacher goes beyond the text, that we DO more and THINK more and LEARN more than if all we did was look at a slide show and take notes.
today one of the graduate students gave a presentation on literacy, on incorporating writing into the classroom. she had us start by relaxing our mind, then for five minutes writing down things that came to us. she emphasized to just write, not to think or plan and be fake. after some sharing of ideas, we drew with crayons and some blank paper canvases the things that came to our mind. it was so soothing, to drag that pacific blue crayon across the page, to see the deepness of the color come alive. realized this morning so much of a story has been brimming at the surface of my soul for a long time and all it took was a little prodding to get it out of me, to draw back the velvet curtains and let the warm sunlight expose all the doubts and fear and heartache that was swept so much into the corners.
as the words came freely from the pen in hand, the boldness of the ink began to make the story a reality. it was about a night long ago and far away, with more emotion than i had even fathomed. a night of realizations and sorrows and regrets, of finally cherishing the moment at hand and trying hard to not let the day to come creep into our midst. writing it all out, putting color to the faded images, was almost too much to bear. i wanted to cry and dance and laugh and bend over in pain all at the same time.
and then the class was over, and we walked out of the door with our backpacks slung over our shoulders, each to his own path. each to finish writing his own story.
"Further Up, Further In, and Farther Along."