The gift of language

I wasn’t sure what I would write about today. Or if I would write. I was in a bit of a mood yesterday–one of those moods that’s hard to shake, not easy to pin down, but casts a long shadow. Usually I try to whip up a rough draft for Tuesday’s slice on Monday night. Then I fine tune and post in the morning. I’d had a wonderful poetry celebration in my class yesterday and my students are truly jazzed about poetry. I knew I could write about that. I could even share some of their poetry. But I was in a mood.

I got home last night a bit early after racing around in a downpour, running errands. I had a raging headache. At 6:15 I got into bed. Yes, 6:15. I was asleep before 7:00. When I woke up at about 1:30 am, my mind started racing about, touching on all the things undone or half done or even poorly done. Apparently the mood still lurked. Already, I could sense the flavor of the day. After tossing and turning for a bit, I elected to get up. Perhaps I could get some work done and then tuck in a two hour nap a bit later in the morning.

I puttered around a bit, making coffee, changing over the laundry and finally sat down at my computer. I opened up my e-mail and noticed a note from a parent who had attended yesterday’s celebration. Oh, I thought, how nice, he’s probably written to say that he enjoyed the poetry celebration yesterday. I clicked and read. As it turns out, he was, but there was so much more.

“Hey There –

I just wanted to send you a quick note. I had my 39th birthday today, and it will go down as one of the best, and I am handing over a large degree of credit to you. I’ll be honest, C. made a lovely dinner and my day at work was fine as well. I thought the poetry slam might be the icing on the cake (no pun intended) – BUT…the real kicker was when after dinner/cake/presents L. strolled over to his backpack and begin reading some poems from his poetry notebook. He had his sister and both parents mesmerized as he begin reading prose with an enthusiasm that I have not seen from him in a very long time to be perfectly honest. It ended with me, a former business school grad with a “hobby” of poetry, reading the poems that I used when I proposed to my wife, when I married my wife and some that I wrote after saying goodbyes to grandparents, classmates who passed too early, etc. The point is – poetry for me…something that I never write in a land of bulleted emails, PowerPoint decks and succinct talking points is a true gift of language. A gift that I admire you for exposing  (15)  children to today that I feel might be changed for the better as a result. It’s a long-winded way of saying thanks – thanks for all that you do, and for the passion that you bring to our children and their minds.”

Wow. This letter touched me in so many ways. I’m thrilled that his son, a reluctant reader, opted to read aloud poems on a night of family celebration.  I love that his family listened and then that his father pulled out and shared poems that he’d written to his wife and to others at significant occasions in his life. What a powerful message to his son and daughter!  I could envision the family sitting around, sharing poems, connecting through them.  Finally, I am so thankful that this father took the time to write me to share his own love of poetry and words, to share this moment with his family and to thank me.

I’m struck by the power of language–both poetic and everyday–to unite, to build, to celebrate.  So often in today’s world, language is used to denigrate, to destroy. But this parent celebrated the gift of language with his family and then again, through his letter, with me. He truly recognizes the power of words and poetry, but I wonder if he realizes how far the ripples will carry from his e-mail. How I will carry both these words and my image of his family with me. How they will remind me that our work as teachers may bear fruit at unexpected times, many unknown to us. I will carry his words with me, not just today, but on other days. And perhaps on one of those days when a mood lingers and taints, his words will drift back and shift that mood. It certainly has today.