I have written a lot of grants in attempts to get funding for schools to have books and resources for children who have gone through a family change or divorcing parents. With each grant I quote statistics, sustainability, qualifiers, etc. Tedious details that were once a research project. Important, but not the full story.
Now, I write grants with Kiara and Marcus and their classmates that are so kind to reveal their stories to me. I write with a passion of understanding that, like me, they are growing up with a sense of robbery, a sense of confusion. They are trying to make sense of their world, their lives and their talents.
I write knowing that I am their voice. I am the adult in their life that has the means and heart to make a difference by believing them and listening to them. I am the adult that symbolizes hope of rising above the hurt and fear and becoming a person of character.
I love my adopted class. I love their vulnerable honesty. They are not afraid to say that it hurts when we lose respect, friendship or camaraderie with the adults in our lives. They are fearless in their writing...not afraid of what emotion they may provoke.
We close every class with these words, "I vow to always remember that I am lovable and capable. I vow to find my talent and never throw it away!"
As we chant our mantra, the little girl in me that is now a woman living her dream chants secretly, "me, too."
"The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the best intention."