inkskinned:

we learn worse. when i broke the tower i was building, my student said to me what i say to her, all the time: “it’s okay! we will rebuild it together. things happen, but we can help each other fix them.” my words out of her mouth sounded big, big, big. this idea i’d given her idly, just when i was comforting her in the moments of mess-ups – not to laugh, but to lend a hand.

big, big, big words. when my second graders come in, one of them says: we should just kill them all, and be done with it. 

i remind him we don’t talk about killing at school. i tell him we absolutely do not talk about killing people. and then i ask: where did you even get this idea.

his dad, of course. talking to his mom. it probably wasn’t something he was supposed to overhear. and what am i going to do about parent politics, you know? i remind my student about kindness. i make sure to read a book about love and acceptance. what does a second grader know about killing, huh?

in fifth grade after-school, we make a poster. i write the words “if i could change the world, i would…” in big swooping font. since i spend most of my day with children under 7, i expect answers like “i would have wings” or “i would be a princess.” i expect them to be children.

instead, i get “i would change gun laws so my friends don’t have to die,” “i would stop companies from hurting the environment” “i would keep everybody safe, no matter who they are or where they came from.” 

big, big, big ideas. we forget how much kids are sponges. how much they soak up everything. how quickly they learn to read, to understand, to form their own knowledge and passions. what am i supposed to do. they’re bolstered by the internet. i can’t tell them to turn their heads from what they already know is true.

on the playground, we have to call one of the boys in again and explain to him that he cannot run around screaming “grab them by the pussy” even if he heard those words from the president. later, this same boy talks loudly about russia and fake news. i have to kindly ask him to cut the politics down while he’s at school. he’s scaring everyone with talks of nukes.

im scared, everyone. a girl comes up to me and looks at her best friend. he is a mexican student. “is he going to have to leave?” she asks.

and what am i supposed to do.