Seeing With Your Heart

Seeing With Your Heart

            I do not remember when I first realized that I was different from other people….

Everyone knows the story of Helen Keller’s life, at least the story of her early life.  She was born in Tuscumbia, Alabama on June 27, 1880 a perfectly normal child. She was very bright and had even started speaking by six months. But at the age of nineteen months, she contracted an illness that left her deaf and blind plunging her into darkness and silence.  

Helen grew into a wild thing, terrorizing her household with her tantrums. Her family placated her because they pitied her and felt helpless. Most handicapped people in those days lived hopeless lives in institutions. But Helen showed an extraordinary intelligence.  By the age of five, she had invented sixty signs for communicating.  

Her parents took her to see Alexander Graham Bell who was working to develop aides for deaf people.   Helen remembered, “He understood my signs and I knew it and loved him at once.”  Graham suggested that a teacher be sent for to help Helen.  That’s when the miracle happened.

Annie Sullivan came to teach Helen but first she had to tame her. She understood the Keller’s pity but knew that they were making a mistake. Helen had to behave before she could learn. The battle began.  

Annie prevailed but Helen won. She learned to behave and through Annie’s teaching, Helen’s dark, silent world opened wide: “My teacher… touched the darkness of my mind and I awoke to the gladness of life.”

Helen made enormous strides and learned to read and write and even speak.  She attended Radcliffe College along with her teacher who spelled every book and lecture into her hand.  Helen graduated and went on to lecture all over the world. She appeared in films and vaudeville. She wrote books and became an advocate for the handicapped. She said, “… the great need of the blind was not charity, but opportunity.” She met every President from Grover Cleveland to John Kennedy. She became a symbol of courage and hope for the world.

My students were amazed by Helen’s accomplishments. They enjoyed trying to read Braille. When Helen was asked who her favorite pal was, she replied, “ [books] they tell me so much that is interesting about things I cannot see. And they are never troubled or tired like people.” They were fascinated to learn that Helen could tell one flower from another by touching the petals and smelling them. They loved that she could feel the vibrations from a piano and touch music. She read lips and learned geography, German and French.  She didn’t like Arithmetic. She loved to laugh.

Helen said, “Keep your face to the sunshine.”  She never felt sorry for herself.   She said, “Life is a daring adventure.”  She did not let her circumstances decide how she would live or what she could accomplish.  She learned to read the world, not only with her hands but with her heart.  She said, “ I was dumb; now I speak.  I owe this to the hands and hearts of others.” 

Helen Keller was named one of the one hundred most influential people of the twentieth century.  She changed our world. She opened our hearts and hands to others by her example. She lived her life in hope so that we could too. 

All quotations are from Helen Keller by George Sullivan.

I Know YOU!

          Ana:  Is it true that his parents are getting a divorce.

          Nia:  Yeah.

          Ana:  Gee, I hope my parents never get divorced.

          Nia:  They won’t. They’re a good couple.

          Ana:  But you don’t even know them.

          Nia:  Yes, I do.  I see you draw them all the time.

I overheard this conversation between two of my second graders. I was struck by this little girl’s insight into her friend’s life. Nia knew her friend. She had seen pictures Ana had drawn and somehow felt the love that radiated from that family.

All children love their families and draw wonderful pictures of them. They love to name each member and explain how and why they drew them as they did. Pets are always included.  

A child’s family is the whole world for many years. Even after starting school, the family is a child’s anchor. Families differ, yet whatever the make-up, each is complete. Even a splintered family unites in the heart of a child.

And what confidence children place in that family! Nia just knew that Ana’s parents would not divorce. They were a ‘good couple’ she concluded. They would stick together and take care of her friend. Ana didn’t need to worry. Her drawings said it all.

Of course, the real world outside of the drawings is a bit more complicated. Pressures take their toll on the happiest of families. The smiles in the drawings remain while the smiles on the faces in reality dim. 

But I think Nia was even more perceptive. She knew Ana’s family from her drawings, and she also knew Ana. Ana represented her family. She was a happy, confident kid. She had her homework done and signed. Her shoes fit and her clothes were clean. She helped her friends and was respectful to her teachers. She was a good kid, so she must have a good family.

Children do represent their families. A happy child reflects a happy home. A sad or sullen child may indicate a troubled home or an unhappy relationship. Of course, every child has his or her own personality, but these personalities are magnified or stunted by the tenor of the home in which they live.

Psychologists have been analyzing children’s drawings for years. According to them, symbolism is present in the earliest scribblings of toddlers. Circles and sunbursts speak volumes about the psyches of our smallest artists. Dark colors mean one thing, bright colors another. Drawings of people with missing limbs, features, or smiles indicate something missing or out of tune in a child’s life.

And, while psychologists analyze kid’s drawings, kids analyze their families. Subconsciously, children know when someone is worried, restless, or dissatisfied. They surf along on happiness; they sink with despair. 

Let’s hope Nia analyzed well. Ana’s pictures show a smiling family and, while a picture may be worth a thousand words, every child is worthy of a happy home. Take a snapshot of your own. What will your children draw?

"I Was There!"

“I was there.”

Since 1986, we have been celebrating Dr. Martin Luther King’s birthday as a national holiday. Even in kindergarten, all the kids know the basic facts of Dr. King’s life.  But every year they come to understand just a little better what his life and actions meant to our country and what these mean to them today. 

In a west African story-telling tradition, it is the custom for children to interrupt the speaker by chiming in “I was there!” Then the child tells what he sees, hears, smells and feels at that point in the story. We tried this with the story of Martin Luther King, Jr.

           

Martin was born on January 15, 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia.  

“I was there,” sings out Harry. “His mommy wrapped him up in a warm blue blanket because it was so cold that day. His daddy was so proud. He ran out and told all his friends.”

They named him Michael Luther King after his father but later changed his name to Martin.

“That’s so they could tell him and his daddy apart,” says Jeana.

Martin loved learning. He especially loved big words and asked his father to teach him new words. He soon learned to read. 

“I was there!” crows Nick. “Martin asked his momma for a dictionary so he could look up really big words. He wrapped his mouth around a new word every day. He made his mommy and daddy laugh.”

           

Martin had a best friend who was white. They did everything together until it was time to start school. Then his friend’s mother wouldn’t let them play anymore.

“I was there,” says Eli. “I saw tears running down Martin’s cheeks. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t play with his friend anymore. His mother hugged him and told him it was OK but Martin still felt bad. I’d feel bad too.”

Martin did really well in school and went to college. He wanted to be just like his father who was a minister. Martin studied hard and graduated and became a minister too. 

“I was there!” shouts Carson. “Martin loved helping people. He visited them in the hospital and told them stories about the Bible. He had a big voice and sang out strong in church. One of his favorites was We Shall Overcome. I can sing that one too.”

           

Martin got married and had four children. He was happy at home, but was unhappy about what was happening in the world.

“I was there,” says Nina. “Back then, black people weren’t allowed to go to the same schools or movies or churches as white people. They even had different bathrooms and water fountains. One lady named Rosa Parks got arrested for sitting in the front of the bus. She was just tired of all the rules. Martin heard about it and he and his friends tried to get the rules changed.”

           

In 1963, Dr. King led many protests for equal rights. He got arrested too. He told people that even though the rules were wrong, they should be peaceful. He gave a speech in Washington, DC on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

“I was there!” yells Josey. “Martin stood on the top step. Right behind him was the big statue of Abraham Lincoln. Abe looked tired. Lots and lots of people came to see Martin. Martin wanted them all to be friends. He said he had a dream that white and black children could go to the same schools and play together. Martin looked tired too.  He was tired of the bad rules. He just wanted peace.”

           

Martin worked really hard for peace and in 1964 he won the Nobel Peace Prize. 

“I was there,” says Maria. “There were lots of important people there all dressed up. Martin’s family was so proud. Martin was proud too, but he still looked tired.”

           

Martin still had lots of work to do. He organized voter registrations and boycotts. He protested segregation rules. He led people in marches. 

“I was there,” says Travis. “Sometimes people threw things at the marchers and yelled really bad words. The police didn’t help. Lots of people got put in jail. But Martin told them not to fight back. He said peace was more important.”

Peace was most important to Martin.

“I was there,” calls Curtis.  “Martin loved peace.  Lots of people got mad at him.  I didn’t though. I told him to keep trying. He did.”

Martin never stopped working for peace. That’s why we remember him today. The children look around and see the changes Martin made. 

And all of them, black and white, sitting together as friends say together, “I was there.”

The White Glove Test

The White Glove Test

(from 2011)

          My cousin Nanny tells a great story. Nanny was a new mother with a sweet baby girl. Our Aunt Anna was coming to call. Aunt Anna is a kind, loving lady but she had a reputation for having a perfectly clean and neat house, despite having three children.  Nanny cleaned her house from top to bottom, ready for the ‘white glove test’ she was sure was coming. 

         

Then, in the middle of the night the day before the visit, Nanny got up to make a bottle for the baby. This was long before the days of microwaves and involved putting water in a pan on the stove, then setting the bottle of milk in the hot water to warm. 

 Sleep-deprived from caring for an infant and exhausted from a day of scrubbing, Nanny fell asleep while the bottle was warming – forgetting to turn off the burner. Whoosh! The bottle exploded. Milk covered walls, floor and ceiling. She spent the rest of the night re-scrubbing the kitchen. 

         

I always laugh at that story because I understand both sides. I, like Aunt Anna, like things neat and clean. And like Nanny, I worry about what others will think if everything isn’t spic and span. 

But then I remember author Erma Bombeck.

         

Bombeck wrote: “No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed.” And “My theory on housework is, if the item doesn’t multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?” 

Erma got it right. You can kill yourself cleaning and no one will ever notice.

Aunt Anna, God love her, never even looked at that house. She only had eyes for baby Joellen. 

Who wears ‘white gloves’ when holding a cooing infant? 

         

When I visit my friends with little ones, I don’t see the fingerprints on the fridge or the towels on the floor. I look around and see artwork displayed and photos adorning every wall and surface. I find comfortable chairs and crowded kitchen tables. I see packed calendars and much loved pets.

Just like Aunt Anna, I focus on the happy kids and the loving parents

         

It turns out that Erma was a fabulous housekeeper too. But as she neared the end of her life she wrote: “If I had my life to live over… I would have invited friends over to dinner even when the carpet was stained and the sofa was faded…  I would have eaten popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried less about the dirt when someone wanted to light the fireplace…. I would seize every minute, look at it and really see it … .live it and never give it back.” 

 

Aunt Anna, well into her nineties, is still fastidious, but the only thing we see when we walk in her door is the wide smile on her face and her welcoming arms. 

(In Memory: Aunt Anna left us this week. I often visited her with my husband and daughter and she was always thrilled to see us. We will miss her greatly. She taught us what it meant to love freely and fully. May she rest in heaven – which may spruce itself up a bit now that she is there.)

The Bottom of the Stairs

The Bottom of the Stairs

The sun has barely opened its eyes when the six of us tumble onto the landing at the top of the stairs.

“Shush, shush! Don’t wake them up. It’s too early!” It’s Christmas morning, and we are ready for presents.

Four weeks earlier, we had composed our lists for Santa and presented them to our mother for mailing. Santa means something different to each of us. My two youngest siblings picture a jolly elf in a red suit. The older four trust in photos from the Sears catalog and our parents’ lay-away plan. Because there are so many of us, we have a firm rule for our present requests: One large gift and three small. This rule is generally agreed upon but always broken by my brother Paul who asks for two large gifts. He says that it never hurts to ask.

Our parents emerge from their room in robes and slippers, yawning, and ask us why we are up so early. We bounce around as they slowly descend the stairs. We line up from youngest to oldest for the coming rush. The youngest will have the first look at the magic below.

Mommy lights up the tree and puts some carols on the record player. Daddy looks into the living room and calls up to us, “Who left all this coal and sticks in the living room? You kids get down here right now and clean it up!”

We squeal as we follow the youngest down the stairs. Their eyes widen as they catch the lights of the tree and the silver and gold wrappings. Then we rush past our parents and race for our gifts.

The room is full-to-bursting with presents! We rush to the spots each had labeled the night before and grab the big gift. These are never wrapped, so we share the joy. Sure enough, Paul has received his two big gifts. We open the wrapped gifts -- taking turns to enjoy each other’s pleasure. Daddy snaps photos and Mommy cooks breakfast singing along with the carols. After cleaning up the wrappings and breakfasting, we put on our finest and go to church to celebrate the reason for the day. 

I still feel the excitement of my siblings as we lined up together at the top of the stairs. I see my sleepy parents who waited at the bottom. The tree lights sparkle behind my eyes. The carols echo. I unwrap each gift again.

These many years later, I realize that the greatest present I ever received were the five at the top of the stairs and the two waiting at the bottom.

My mother still sings those carols. My siblings, separated by miles but close in spirit, still share our joys. God rest ye merry, Mom and Dad.

This year, remember those who stood “at the top of the stairs” with you and those who waited “at the bottom” to love you and rejoice.