So my agreement with young William is that he can sit in the rolling black chair at the table with me as long as he obeys my only classroom rule: Make wise choices. (Really. That covers it all, doesn't it?)
But we all suffer from temptation, am I right? And today, as I bustle around troubleshooting student problems with their book blog post on Weebly, I hear him call his best friend's name. His best bud, who sits all the way across the room. "Nate!" (Not his real name, of course.)
I was a few feet away, so I closed the gap between us and said softly, "One of the costs of sitting in that chair, is not talking to Nate or other friends across the room. There will be other future costs, but that is today's price."
His dark eyes widen, he smiles in surprise. There, I see hope again. He must be wondering when I'm going to assign him to sit somewhere else. "I accept your price," he says quickly, before I change my mind. He settles in to the chair and tucks his nose back into his book, the latest by Cassandra Clare, The City of Heavenly Fire, which he was waiting for his sister to finish, so I lent him my copy. (He mentions his sister to me at least once a day. I'm wondering about this and what he is trying to tell me.)
I continue working around the room, getting everyone writing. The humidity is high today and the temperature is in the nineties. My room is usually comfortable, but I've been feeling feverish, so I slip my sweater on the back of a chair, forgetting my shirt underneath is sleeveless. I remember when I hear the sudden intake of breath behind me. "You have a tattoo? Why?" To his credit, he whispered his curiosity. The other students, buzzing away on their reading blogs, take no notice of the little butterfly on my shoulder.
"It's a pretty long story, William. I guess I thought I needed it."
He nods as if this makes complete sense. "Like the runes the shadowhunters wear."
"Absolutely," I say, delighted he's made this literature connection, as I wander over to a group of waving hands and solve the mysteries of navigating the Weebly web design environment. When there is another brief lull in the activity, I rummage around in the drawer where I keep all those freebies from book companies at conferences like NCTE: bookmarks, reading guides, buttons, chapter teasers, and--you guessed it--temporary tattoos.
The shadowhunters in Cassandra Clare's books, part angel and part human, draw these runes onto their skin as protective and healing spells before battling demons and other darkness. I slip the tattoo on top of his book, wondering about the demons and darkness he is fighting, the deep purple shadows under his eyes.
"I can keep this?" He meets my eyes after studying the tattoo carefully, rubbing the shiny surface of the plastic covering.
"It's the one I thought you might need most."
His lip curls up on one side, Elvis-style, in acknowledgment of an undeniable truth. There is a softness in his eyes, a vulnerability I haven't seen before. My heart melts a little that he let me see.
"Thank you," he whispers.
And I leave him there pondering the magic of a temporary tattoo, tracing the lines over with his index finger, the symbol for angelic power.
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| Image: http://weheartit.com/entry/group/26123080 |
I love connections like this with kids. Small, quiet moments. You captured this so beautifully.
ReplyDeleteI want to be a student in your classroom. But I'll settle for being your student here on your blog. Thank you.
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