I’ve written about Everybody Needs a Rock but….it might be just in my notes. My mind stops me from recalling. …..when I started 1st grade probably 14 years ago….A Momma came in and asked to read to my class. Where I teach this has happened about 5 times, asking for this. Her son was in my room, one of three of her boys I was to teach. They were all blond, all silent. Silent as night is. A very silent family in conferences my chatter embarrassed me. Silences were there to fill this…I just found this family very uniquely good at other calm communication systems. But as is always, always the case I had certain …thoughts….about them, whatever those thoughts were-nothing, just whatever their outside suggested. Maybe I thought them to be out of place, like I felt. I’m not sure exactly. I’m not sure that means too much, but in they trooped and she brought this book. And read looking at me. The experience I realized was for the children but it was a lesson for me. I think for her I represented ‘haves’, this very much a story of bringing all to a table -that one group may be disinclined to share. She told the children of her Native American heritage, life on a reservation…more. Invited me actually to teach to and see their potentials. I sat there, perhaps I could have resented this with years invested in trying to openly live this book, but I decided to accept this way this Mom told me very clearly and with literature no less the most important thing she ever could say. This was a day of “realization”. And we ended with children looking for rocks to adopt. I could not stop her exactly from seeing me as an interloping dominant culture person, but I could, given that perception, earn her respect for the heart shown with the kids, more than enough to build community.

I really appreciate this post. It’s beautiful. Sarah