Aug
31
2016
Reaching Through The Cage
Posted in Daily Living 2 Comments
There are twenty-four houses in our neighborhood.
There are two streets.
One street loops around.
One is a cul-de-sac that is attached to the top of the loop.
There are children of all ages in our neighborhood.
It is quite obvious this time of year.
School has begun in our district.
Three different buses arrive at three different times each morning.
The first bus, which comes quite early, is for the high school students.
That group is usually the smallest since eventually the older students will drive to school.
The next bus that arrives is for the middle school students.
That group stands at the corner, sometimes talking to each other, sometimes not.
The last bus picks up the elementary school students.
That group is always the largest.
At the beginning of the school year the parents are standing with their children.
The children are all moving, very rarely do any of them stand still.
I can hear them inside my house.
I say hello to them when I’m on my walk.
Their laughter and squeals are music to my ears.
The parents talk among themselves.
When I went out for my walk, the little boy next door was walking to the bus stop.
I noticed how clean his new sneakers were on his feet.
I noticed the bright colored athletic shirt that made him stand out a mile away.
I approached the bus stop and started to say, Hi, to him.
Then I heard it.
A mother was walking her twin boys down the street towards their house.
They had just said goodbye to their sister who got on the middle school bus.
The mom saw me and said, Good morning, in a loud voice so I would hear her.
Her twin boys turned around as well.
It was not me that they saw.
They saw the young boy with the clean sneakers and brightly colored shirt.
Hi! They yelled in unison.
We can come and collect sticks with you if you want to!
The little boy at the bus stop didn’t answer them.
He was too busy kicking a stone with his new sneaker.
If you want to, I heard again, as their mom led them by the hand down their driveway.
The young boy and I said, hello.
I asked him how his first day had been.
Fine, was his one word reply.
Do you like your teacher? I asked before I walked up the hill.
Yeah, he said still kicking the stone with his clean sneaker, which would not be clean for long.
Have fun today, I added as I walked on.
I thought of the twin boys as I walked up the hill.
We can come and collect sticks with you if you want to!
Why can’t we be more like children?
Age doesn’t matter.
Color of skin doesn’t matter.
All that matters is, you’re here and I’m here, so lets play.
There are sticks on the ground and we can collect them together.
There are stones on the ground and we can see how far we can kick them.
I have a ball; do you want to play catch?
I’ll race you up the hill.
Children seem to find common ground much quicker than adults.
Young children see a potential playmate.
The things that eventually keep them away from each other are learned.
No wonder Jesus told his disciples to become like little children.
At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:1-4)
To Jesus, greatness is being like a child.
Collecting sticks and kicking stones together.
Seeing what brings us together instead of what keeps us apart.
Looking for common ground and finding it.
I remember an essay called, Yes, I Can! by Robert Fulghum.
Something happens to us as we get older.
We learn new thought patterns that were not there before.
We learn to be skeptical.
Ask a kindergarten class, “How many of you can draw?” and all hands shoot up.
Yes, of course we can draw—all of us.
What can you draw?
Anything!
How about a dog eating a fire truck in a jungle?
Sure! How big you want it?
How many of you can sing?
All hands. Of course we sing!
What can you sing?
Anything!
What if you don’t know the words?
No problem, we make them up. Let’s sing!
Now?
Why not!
How many of you dance?
Unanimous again.
What kind of music do you like to dance to?
Any kind! Let’s dance!
Now?
Sure, why not?
Do you like to act in plays?
Yes!
Do you play musical instruments?
Yes!
Do you write poetry?
Yes!
Can you read and write and count?
Yes! We’re learning that stuff now.
Their answer is Yes! Over and over again, Yes! The children are confident in spirit, infinite in resources, and eager to learn. Everything is still possible.
Try those same questions on a college audience. A small percentage of the students will raise their hands when asked if they draw or dance or sing or paint or act or play an instrument. Not infrequently, those who do raise their hands will want to qualify their response with their limitations: I only play piano, I only draw horses, I only dance to rock and roll, I only sing in the shower.
When asked why the limitations, college students answer they do not have talent, are not majoring in the subject, or have not done any of these things since about third grade, or worse, that they are embarrassed for others to see them sing or dance or act. You can imagine the response to the same questions asked of an older audience. The answer: No, none of the above.
What went wrong between kindergarten and college?
What happened to YES! of course I can? (excerpt from, Yes, I Can!)
What happens to us as we got older?
Why do we forget the beauty of childhood?
Why are we suddenly timid about the things we used to do well?
Why is our answer, No, I can’t instead of Yes, I can?
Jesus said that we must become like little children.
Ukrainian sculptor, Alexander Milov captured the essence of this is his piece called, Love.
Love depicts two adults sitting back to back in conflict.
The inner child in each of them is trying to reach through the cage in friendship.
Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
Milov seems to understand the beauty of the inner child.
The inner child wants to reach through the cage that we adults put around ourselves.
We can come and collect sticks with you if you want to!
Yes!
A resounding childlike, Yes!
One theory I’ve read is that in childhood the right side of the brain (creative) is more dominant; as the child grows, about age 10, the left side (analytical) becomes more dominant and starts to criticize. Adults can have an impact too by encouraging or being critical in a non-encouraging way. Unless their creative talent is strong, the child will become “stuck” at that age;hence, adults who “can’t draw a straight line” or “can’t draw at all”. More about this is found in the book “Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain”, A course in enhancing creativity and artistic confidence, by Betty Edwards.
Sue,
Thank you for the book suggestion. You explained the WHY of what I wrote about. I am sure that many will find your suggestion helpful.
Gina