Kid: “Hey, I know you! What’s your name again?”
Me: “My name’s Margaret.”
K: “Oh yeah! Miss Margaret, if I forget your name again, can I ask you?”
M: “Of course!”
*5 minutes later*
K: “What’s your name again?”
One of my goals for this experience was to connect with the kids and learn about them. While I haven’t sat down with the students and talk about their lives, I have heard bits and pieces in passing. What I never really expected was to find myself heartbroken by the stories.
Today, as the students in one class were working on a Father’s Day craft, one student was being particularly uncooperative. This student has been regularly uncooperative in the past, but no one really knew why they were refusing to do this project until they said their father passed away, and there was no one to give the project to.
I also met a sweet first grade girl named Abby whose hair intrigued me from day one because she has a massive bald spot at the center of her head. I discovered that, last year, she battled an aggressive brain tumor and underwent rounds upon rounds of chemotherapy. The teachers and students banded together to create a fundraiser and movement called Abby’s Army that has even reached the attention of the Carolina Hurricanes.
Lastly, I met a little girl who moved with her mother and two older brothers from Syria back in the fall. While she is all giggles and cheer now, she was zombie-like at the beginning of the school year and would rarely talk to anybody. One of her brothers developed apparently developed a stutter that can be heard when he speaks both Arabic and English after a bomb exploded next to their house back in Syria.
These children never cease to amaze me. Some never had the chance to truly be a kid. They laugh and play and joke like any regular child, yet they hold so much pain and despair inside. You never know what they hide behind a smile.
