Take My Hand: An Invitation to Slow Down

First day of school. The buses were arriving. The children were walking through the wide front doors. The emotion of the first day of school was palpable. I was smiling behind my mask and I could only hope that children could sense my joy through my eyes. At first, the hallways were quiet and in the blink of an eye, the school was buzzing with the sound of children and teachers saying, “Good Morning. Buenos Dias. I’m so glad you are here.” From the distance, I spied a little girl with terrified eyes. Everyone was walking past her with an upbeat pace. She was moving slowly and her eyes revealed that her anxiety was real. I kneeled next to her to ask her if I could walk with her to her classroom. She immediately took my hand and held it tight. As we walked together hand in hand toward her classroom, I kept wondering…did she get to go to school at all last year before the pandemic hit? Did she attend virtual school? Does she have siblings? Did she get to interact socially with others? Or was it isolating? my questions lingered and I made a mental note to write these questions later, give them space for reflection. At that moment, I decided to just stay fully present with this child. My palm started sweating but I didn’t want to break apart from her because our hands were a bubble of safety. She needed that and so did I. She never said a word on our way to her class.

As we arrived to her classroom, the warmth of her teacher made both of us feel welcomed. Her teacher came to her eye level and this sweet child leaned toward her teacher. I felt a sense of relief for her. Behind her teacher’s mask, there is a kind human whose voice projected calmness and acceptance. My encounter with this child humbled me that morning. It served me as a reminder that two truths can co-exist: there are some children who are so ready to be in schools and for others, they struggle leaving the safety of their homes. Especially during this pandemic period. Not every child felt joyful. Not everyone felt ready. We all need different things to feel safe. And this is why teaching is an art. It requires us to curate different experiences with children. It asks us to consider who they are and their lived experience. It requires us to notice, note and seek.

When that child took my hand, she reminded me to slow down. I might have spent the weekend planning learning experiences for them but this child invited me to create experiences with her. And there lays a big difference: for them….with them.

Co-creating is a beautiful practice and I believe that this year I am going to need to come back to this lesson over and over.

Thank you sweet child for holding my hand that morning. I didn’t know I needed it too.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash