It has been deep in your bones cold and I actually like it that way right now. Walking back from the school drop off taking time to notice the frosty dustings on holly bushes and leaves and spiders webs, all glistening in the light like icing sugar or fairy dust. I like the feeling of hearing only my own footsteps moving along a path, greeting and re-greeting my fellow parents, neighbours and strangers alike knowing home is close by and I'll get to tuck myself away in one room in the house to work away on a project, only getting up for a fresh cup of something hot. That's what I did for a while yesterday, hungry to make and do with my hands and so a new canvas was born, the one you see here. Elaine - my college tutor years ago, would have told me to 'work into it' some more but with natural light quickly fading and my patience also I called time on this piece after 1.5 hours. And by the way by 15.13, the very latest I should leave for school collection, there was no natural light in the house. Winter is here.
This week was a hard week, some are, we all know this. My heart ached when I was taken to one side (by a lovely individual I hasten to add) and told that my little one who is not yet five in number, is not quite .... ticking boxes on paper as he might and perhaps it was reason for concern. It is no concern of mine or his fathers for he is a bright and lovely boy, except now that it's been mentioned I know. I know. I know that at just four years and five months he is being watched and boxes remain unticked? I've been that child and working in schools I've seen those children being watched, seen the production line, those that get moved off the line, moved elsewhere. It will be ok and I'll make sure of it, both of us will but I have felt heavy of heart and weary with over thinking. I know this also because I postponed a phone call to my mother suspecting all too well that I would crack. A day later I made the call and when I heard that warm voice of nurture I absolutely humpty dumptied off the wall and smashed into pieces ... but it's ok. This woman carries the strength of all the kings horses and all the kings men and she could and did put me back together again. A special possum in my life who I like to call 'possom' even though I know it's the incorrect spelling but I have been doing it too, too long to feel it is deserving of change also shared wise words and after reading them I felt whole again. I felt understood which is of course half of the great battle.
I wondered for some time if I should share this information here, my instinct was to not do so because it still feels raw and sad and unnecessary. I struggled for clarity in my thinking because the topic of school opens up some wounds that I try to keep buried, ones that surprised me, one's that I think are pretty generic, others that are not so much so. I reached a decision finally based on one of the anti bullying strategies I remember from secondary school - 'SPEAK OUT against bullies!' I can picture the posters clearly even now and in particular the one drawing pinned on the door of Mr.Hughes classroom in the science lab.
I don't want to stay silent, I want to speak out. I don't want to specify or even think about specifying who the bullies are exactly in this situation and I have no interest in debate about curriculums, government, homeschool v mainstream education etc but what I do know is that in the classroom that they call life there is plenty of room both for those that sit cross legged in their carpet spot looking on and for those that shuffle and make something out of nothing from carpet debris and abandoned paper clips! Which one are you?
|15.13 and no natural light - in my back garden.|