Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Big Girl 2009
I had a class that has always stood out in my mind and that's because of one little boy. He sat with his desk facing the wall, clearly separated from the other children. As we started to work, and I went around helping each child, I noticed that he was perspiring profusely. He had a heavy, dank, little boy odor about him and his clothes seemed not quite clean. He gave his drawing all of his attention and focus. When he finished, and I came around to look at what he had done, I was staggered by his image. It was of a house and a child, but the child was much bigger than the house, and the child was leaning over, a stream of vomit coming from his mouth. It was a beautiful drawing-- profound and honest and just very well done. I praised him and told him what a great drawing I thought he had done, and he beamed back at me. He knew I was being sincere, and he knew that I saw what he had done and heard what he was trying to say-that there was big trouble in his life.
Later, when the class went out for recess, I showed the drawing to the teacher. She couldn't say much to me, but I understood that this child wasn't in a good situation, and that she was doing the best she could to help. I wasn't telling her anything she didn't know. I left that day, and of course, I never knew what happened to the little boy. I can only hope that his art helped him through his life, and gave him the connection he needed to somehow make it in a hard and unforgiving world.