Writing Through the Pandemic: January 26, Number 2

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1. susan shackelford says

   January 31, 2021 at 9:18 pm

   January 31, 2021

   Response to Prompt # 3/Jan 26/2021

   I celebrate each time I pick up this cheap pen, put it on paper and nothing comes out. It’s written pages and volumes. I find it hard to believe. Me, who felt I was communicating with others when I left behind a 2”x2” sticky-note.

   At some point, others defined me as ‘the middle child’ of five, quiet and obedient. By about the seventh grade, the nuns, or maybe Dad, had a quiet conversation with me and I caged my enthusiasm and lowered my hand. I continued listening, but now, responded only in my thoughts. “I would’ve said that, or nope, never thought that.”

   I didn’t realize that I was developing my unique style of communicating. Few words left my lips. My thoughts were clasped shut; opened only in whispers. Often, I’d hear: “Susie, can you say that again? Or Can you speak louder?”

   Sister Clarise and I developed our own dance. She’d ask the class: “What is meant by the phrase: to walk in someone else’s shoes?”

   I’d learned to wait until Sr. Clarise stood so near my desk, that her gentle fragrance signaled that she was beside me. I became warmed by her heavy black serge habit. It shielded me. Comforted, I answered …”when you walk in someone else’ shoes, you imagine what they experienced and feel what they may have felt.” My ears echoed. I thought I had blasted my response to the entire school. But I hadn’t, and welcomed the way she repeated my response.

   Years later, this proud pen of mine is now echoing my ideas, reflections, interests, conflicts, inspirations, questions and prayers.

   This prompt unfolded the idea that I may have a peculiar way of communicating. It started early, in my teens. Then, I worked with children and who had difficulty communicating. I became skilled in snippets of ideas. With Billie, a second grader who was selectively mute, we spoke in simple ways. A simple non-verbal finger- point to yes, or no. A simple response choice written on a scrap of paper. He could simply agree, or no,t through pointing. It started simple. Do you need the bathroom? Want to play with blocks? Billie and I communicated and developed trust. He sat so close we were like one.

   Years later, licensed and certified as a ‘teacher of children with exceptional needs, I was expected to teach reading and the general curriculum to children who were failing to thrive in standard classrooms. Many waited for the classroom instructor to stand at their podium to take attendance and present the day’s lesson. This was the child’s opportunity to draw on their hands, shred paper into their desks, or leave the room.

   If the student met criteria, they would join me around a large kidney-shaped table. I had no podium. My voice could be whispered. Eye-contact would tell me that we were connecting. A style of frequent and positive feedback and communication was used. My job was to observe.to engage, and to encourage learning and social interaction.

   I taught many systems of reading. Some were scripted… as concrete as possible. The responses were provided. Thumbs up? Thumbs down? became our way of communicating. Simple. Direct. Non-verbal. Research changed and a strong literature-based reading system was implemented. Read-alouds, poetry, and art were encouraged. Instead of a simple teacher-given open-ended response sentence. Written responses and ‘invented spelling’ allowed the non-verbal to share their thoughts and experiences. Communication in this classroom increased, discussions emerged. Little by little. Word by word. Those read-alouds may have been only 400 to 800 words long, but they gave us new ways to interact.

   I was trained to observe students in their classrooms. Compare them to their peers and district-wide and state-wide guidelines. I generated five-page narrative reports that were shared with their parents. I wrote then. I wrote for more than thirty years. But I never wrote the way I do with this simple black and white pen.

   With this pen, I feel secure and protected. Like Sister Clarise, it amplifies my experiences and conversations with my family, my loved ones, poets and authors. My words inked on the pages unfold questions and worries, love, silliness, and fears.

   I don’t need Sister Clarise to stand next to me and amplify my thoughts any longer. I have found my words, placed them on the page with this mighty pen where they etch and echo my thoughts. I speak them weekly to writers who listen and respond with two simple words: thank you.

   Thank you, Laura for your part in making this happen.

   Thank you, Sister Clarise

   Susan

   *** = 672 words! A read-aloud! A picture- book!:)

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