Hitomi, one of the freshmen, came back to school today. It took an hour to get a smile out of her, a feat I usually accomplish accidentally within seconds of talking to her by saying something she doesn’t understand, tucking a pencil behind my ear (apparently hilarious), or something equally unfunny. My point is, it’s not supposed to take much to make this kid laugh. She’s not wired for the stoic role. But here she is, head in her hands, staring at the floor, her brightly colored eyeglasses switched for a more conservative pair.
I can’t tell you where she’s been, since apparently I’m not supposed to know. I asked, of course. ”It’s complicated” was the answer.
I was talking with Mayumi when she stepped through the door, who looked at me and said, profoundly: “I am shock.”
A few months ago, a student’s house burned to the ground along the shoreline, just up and ignited like a pack of matches, so donation cans were placed in the classrooms and probably a bit of money was raised. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably less than what it costs to build a new house. It’s probably Hitomi, but I don’t know. I’m not trying to be cynical about it; it’s not as if the school can be expected to magically fix something that tragic. It’s the heart of the act that counts, and I’m sure every little bit helped. I’m just saying, we’re charged with the responsibility of helping young people grow into well-developed individuals, but when something of critical importance goes down all I can really do is slip the kid in question some leftover Cambodian money or perhaps some Lilo and Stitch stickers and tell them to “try their best.”
Seriously, what do you do?
just more of the same, i think. that’s all you can do. more than the money, what she can use is someone who cares, someone who expresses empathy and love, someone who smiles even if she doesnt want to smile herself.
a good friend’s mother died when we were in high school. now, these years later and earlier this week, our high school math teacher died too. of him, my friend wrote, “he used to let me leave class for a few minutes to get mashed potatoes in the cafeteria [mashed potatoes were, oddly, a really big deal at my high school]. it wasn’t anything big, just a small act to help a young girl deal with her grief.” this brought me to tears. of all the things, that was what she remembered, what she needed then.
the way we give, the way we take the things we need.
you are doing what you can, you know? being there. lilo and stitch stickers. it’s enough.
Comment by em — February 8, 2008 @ 6:10 pm
Word.
For some reason, they really give a damn about stickers, especially Disney ones. Even when they’re 18.
Comment by c — February 9, 2008 @ 2:29 am
We could play a rock show benefit concert. We would have to play ‘Through the Fire and Flames’ by DragonForce, which heals all wounds, physical and emotional, builds structures that meet the strictest building codes and causes the planets to align allowing peace and harmony to flow forth from the strings of the guitar. Side effects include face melting.
In some years, Hitomi will have gone on to better things, hopefully a good college via scholarship or something, and think back to the days when that weird foreigner “???”was so nice when she needed it most.
Comment by p — February 12, 2008 @ 5:31 am