Rukhsana Khan's Blog, page 11

What faith is good for…

I don’t usually get very ‘religious’ on my blog, ironically it seems to be ‘bad form’, but I think I want to talk about what faith is actually good for.

Yesterday was July 7th and I happened across a very infamous video of Philando Castile’s girlfriend documenting his shooting and eventual death as her four year old daughter sat in the back seat. They were pulled over for a tail light.

Then later, during a protest in Dallas, some army vet or vets, it’s not absolutely clear yet, decided to snipe white policeman who were at the protest, and as a result five police officers were killed and about eight were wounded.

After seeing the video of Castile’s girlfriend documenting the horror she was going through, it’s hard to describe the emotions that went through me. Anger, disbelief, sadness, horror and a bunch of other emotions and then eventually guilt. Because I doubt I’d ever be treated that way in the same circumstances and it breaks my heart that people live their lives in fear of police.

And then when I saw police men, who’d had nothing directly to do with the killings of black men, gunned down I tried to summon as much sympathy as I could but it wasn’t as easy because I hadn’t seen a video of them being shot and I didn’t know anything about them like I knew about the black victim, and I was still angry at Castile’s death.

Intellectually I knew the murder of the policemen was just as wrong, but somehow I wasn’t feeling it.

And I found myself stepping back and knowing that my thinking was wrong and flawed. It’s totally wrong to be less outraged at the police killing. Both deserve equal condemnation so I did what I often do, I decided to ignore my inclinations and recognize that yes, both were victims and both must be condemned.

That’s what religion can do for you. It can bi pass our prejudices and emotions, and anchor itself in what we know to be right and wrong irregardless of the circumstances, how much we know about the victims and our emotional state at the time.

And I remembered my own dealings with black people, which at times has been less than perfect. It’s easy to be against prejudice and racism until you meet someone from a race that really ticks you off and being human and the way we’re wired, we look for commonalities and that’s how stereotypes and prejudice are born. And these are things we must consciously resist! And having faith helps with that.

I remember encountering this black kid, probably about fourteen, who’d gone into the handicapped washroom in the library ahead of me and pissed all over the toilet seat, and strolled back outside, blase, like it was no big deal. I wanted to call him back and tell him to wipe up! But I got scared. You just never know how a young kid like that will react.

And I remember getting so angry at his behaviour, who maybe had been taught better but on his own decided to be a jerk and how there was nothing I could do about it but wipe up the seat so that I and the people after me, could make use of the washroom, and even though I knew it was a little sadaqa (an act of charity) it was still completely disgusting!!! And it got me mad. And I thought no wonder people react to black people sometimes, but then I checked myself again, and tried to remember this was just this one stupid kid! And he could have been any ethnicity. And it was wrong to let my anger at his actions color my view of all black people (pardon the pun).

And I remember a while ago, when I saw some Canadian police dealing with a noise violation, two o’clock in the morning and some people were partying. The police pulled up and ever so quietly, calmly and most of all politely, they asked them to quiet down.

No guns.

No altercations.

And I remember being surprised at how polite the officers had been.

And then I thought of my own experiences dealing with young people in schools. It’s such a cliche but you really do catch ‘more flies with honey than with vinegar’.

My approach in schools, especially schools where there are a lot of jaded and ‘violent’  and yes a lot of black teens is to be polite and respectful. You’d be surprised at how well the kids will respond. I’ve done presentations in schools with terrible reputations! And yet the kids were nothing shy of wonderful with me!

Anyway, when I see such horrible things happening in the world, and it just feels like it’s getting worse and worse, that’s when I fall back on my faith the most.

In this day and age when it’s not ‘fashionable’ to believe in God, I’m going to come out and say what my belief in God really does for me.

Ultimately it gives me hope, it calms me and it gives me peace.

I do believe that justice will not and cannot be served in this life. People will get away with things. But I also believe that there will be a hereafter and a judgment day where everyone that may have gotten away with anything will face the Creator and have to answer for it. Every single thing!

And I will have to answer too. For every single thing I do, whether public or private, and because God can read the intentions of every person He created, there will be no injustice that day.

And that is very comforting.

It is also pretty scary! I fear the day I will be laid bare in front of all humanity, and every sin and every foible will be exposed for people to gawk at. And that means I try to minimize my bad deeds and sins. I try not to do them. I restrain myself.

And when I get angry, really really angry at the injustice in the world, unlike some people, I do not lash out.

Instead I pray.

And prayer is good for the soul.

It’s basically a turning over of every injustice and every frustration that I fear to God’s hands. Let Him deal with it, because I can’t.

And then, after a while, I can breathe again, and I can get back to the task of being the change I’d like to see in the world. Trying to be patient and trying to do a bit of good.

That’s all that’s within my purview. I know my limitations and although sometimes I chafe at them, on the whole I accept them and try to stay humble.

So I don’t feel the need to take revenge. I don’t feel the need to lash out.

But I understand that some people do.

Nietzsche said, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. But I have found that isn’t always true.

Sometimes people face things that are so difficult, so trying, it tips them over the edge. They might physically survive, but mentally perhaps they were fragile, or maybe they didn’t have the moral conditioning that many religions and belief in God gives you, so that they cross the edge and they do things that are wrong.

Evil.

That they wouldn’t resort to, if they hadn’t been pushed beyond all reasonable limits.

In that case, even though what they experienced didn’t ‘kill them’, it seems it killed something within them, maybe they’re humanity, and they do the unthinkable.

Maybe if people have strong religious beliefs they basically have an inviolable moral code that some actions are just not even possibilities.

Like murder, like assassination.

For example, when I was a teenager and I was being persecuted by my classmates, I thought of death and suicide, but it wasn’t an option because of my belief. I had no idea my life would change. I just knew I would never kill myself because again, I feared God and the punishment in Islam for suicide is not only hellfire, but basically repeating the way you killed yourself over and over again till Judgment day.

Yikes! No thanks!

There are plenty of people who refer to belief in very derogatory terms. But for me, it’s what has kept me going. It’s what has kept me sane.

And insha Allah, it will keep me good, on the side of right, in this life and the hereafter.

But right now, it’s time to pray.

As the world goes crazy…

take a deep breath and carry on, and remember that all this too is within God’s plan.

It has been confirmed that Eid will be on Wednesday July 6th insha Allah, so a few hours of this fast and one more to go.

Just heard the news that there was a suicide bomber at the Masjid al Nabawi in Medina! Outhu billah! Can’t imagine! And yet part of me is still at peace.

Like a sigh.

On top of everything else, they have attacked the sanctity of the Prophet’s masjid.

How could they?

I’ve spent the month reading Quran, as much Arabic as I can but all of it in English, because I can understand it better.

I’ve missed the Quran. During the rest of the year I’ll be lucky if I crack it open. Alas I tend to be a very lazy Muslim.

It was funny, because I was reading it and reading it, my eyes often filling with tears, and then I looked up at one point and said to God, “It’s been really nice getting reacquainted with You.” And then I realized how ridiculous that sounded. God is always there.

Like I feel Him all the time, and I talk to Him within my head all the time, and knowing He’s watching me will often be enough to prevent me from doing something I could regret.

But reading the Quran is different.

Just like reading a novel exposes the character and personality of the writer, I feel reading the Quran connects directly with God Himself and that’s what I meant by ‘getting reacquainted’.

Each year that I read the Quran during Ramadan often tends to focus on ‘themes’. I remember reading it one year and I kept noticing how many times God urges believers to spend our of what He has bestowed on us. It’s not just talking about spending on charity, but basically to not be tight-fisted. And I thought yeah, that makes a lot of sense.

You go to Muslim countries and everyone’s out to haggle as much as they can, scrounging. And it becomes exhausting. And I decided, no, I don’t want to be like that. I won’t be a spend-thrift, but I won’t be cheap either.

When it’s time to spend money, I will, and insha Allah, I won’t complain about it.

With the idea that it’s all part of my rizq, my provision, that God has planned for me.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot too.

This year I came across a lot of verses that talking about being generous. And I kind of smiled within myself because yeah, a lot of that work I mentioned, that’s so exhausting, is exactly about being generous. I baked a LOT!

I made chocolate cake with mocha icing, pecan bars, lemon squares, cheesecake cupcakes, and pine tarts (pineapple tarts) as well as meat-filled buns. And I made various packages containing some of these things and dropped it off to neighbors and to one aunt that lives close by who’s always been super helpful and of course to my mother in law and father in law. They’re elderly now and I know she can’t bake like she used to and she really enjoys these things.

At their age they don’t like a lot of material gifts, but this is something I can do for them, so I do. Alhamdu lillah.

And so when I came across the verse about generosity, I felt a bit good about myself. Happy that I’d worked that hard.

And I’ve come to a number of conclusions, but because they’re mostly religious and this blog isn’t exactly a platform for religious dogma, I’ll just leave it at that.

I had been planning on writing a lot this Ramadan.

Hasn’t happened.

This Ramadan the days were about at the pinnacle of length of fast. Basically there was a six or seven minute difference between the first fasts and tomorrow, the last fast. Not much!

This as hard as it gets.

It was hard, don’t get me wrong. Harder than I thought it would be, but at the same time it was doable.

And to be perfectly honest a lot of the difficulty was self-inflicted.

All the baking and cooking and wrapping of Eid gifts isn’t exactly part of the Ramadan protocol. It’s just what we do.

But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

By the way, the recipe for my pine tarts will be featured in the Toronto Star’s Wednesday (Eid day) Food section!!! https://www.thestar.com/life/food_win... So if you want to learn how to make those scrumptious little things, just check it out.

I just have to iron my Eid outfit, make some beef biryani tomorrow and some samia and another chocolate cake tonight (for hubby and son’s workplace folks–already packed away their share of pine tarts) and I’m set for Wednesday.

Oh.

And I’m almost done reading the Quran. Just a few short chapters left.

Alhamdu lillah, a beautiful blessed Ramadan!

Ooh, one more thing! I lost five pounds!!! Yay!!!

Aahhh.

Ramadan’s last ten nights…

are upon me, and although I haven’t done much ‘writing’, not physically anyway, I’ve been rereading the Quran, immersing myself in the language that has basically defined my life.

It was first revealed in Ramadan, and Ramadan is always a good time to recharge, reacquaint myself with its message.

I’ve realized that much of my poetry, when I write verse, imitates or tries to imitate, the cadences of the Quran. It’s like it’s ingrained in me from so many readings.

I still find my breath catching when I read it.

The tone, the perspective, from far outside humanity, from high above us, looking down on the foibles of humanity, the warnings of horrible punishments, the admonishments, and most of all the tugging at my heart so that my eyes fill with tear at the majesty of God. The Quran is so different from anything else I’ve ever read.

And with the world going crazy, reading the Quran has allowed a sense of serenity to descend upon me, despite all the sadness.

I started a new novel while waiting to hear on a work in progress.

I had planned that what with the early mornings after breakfast, I could do some writing of it. But that hasn’t panned out.

Instead of writing, I find myself reading. More and more and more, and yet writing occurs on so many different levels.

One of the hardest things has been figuring out the motivation and character of my antagonist.

I find villains hard! It’s hard to think in such mean despicable ways! With my work in progress I struggled with several scenes where some of the characters gave way to their basest mentalities.

And with this current novel, again I’m struggling with motivation.

And motivation is so important.

That’s where reading the Quran has actually been quite helpful. There are so many spots where God talks about the way the disbelievers and hypocrites think. It’s so duplicitous. Two-faced, despicable! So I guess it comes down to the fact that even though I’m not ‘writing’, I’m researching.

Ramadan has had so much physical demand on me. With the days so long, it hardly even makes sense to go to sleep before the morning meal, so I’ve kind of taken it upon myself to stay up all night till Fajr.

And then sleep.

And now we’ve come down to the last ten days and there are so many times when I’m just filled with such joy like my heart will burst with it. And then I find myself catching myself, feeling almost guilty, because of all the suffering in the world.

I’ve started Eid preparations. With four kids and ten grandchildren, Eid ul Fitr is a hefty celebration! Got the Eid gifts wrapped, and all the letters to my children and my grandkids and my niece written (ever year I write them each a personal letter). Now comes the cooking!

My kids have called Eid–Eat for the longest while, because after a month of fasting, the first day of Shawwal (the 10th month in the Islamic calendar) involves a LOT of eating!

I’ve already started by making my ‘meat-filled buns’. They’re pretty good alhamdu lillah. Made sixty today! Got about forty more to go. And then the rest of the week will be filled with baking: chocolate cake, pineapple tarts, pecan bars, lemon squares, and cherry cheesecake.

Mmm.

I always make packages that I give to the neighbors and in laws. Lots of work, but all in all worth it.

Afterwards it’s such a RELIEF to get back to normal!

Can’t wait to get back to ‘work’. It’ll be so much easier!!!!

Dealing with heartache…

Just days after they laid Muhammad Ali to rest, a 29 year old American named Omar Mateen shot up a gay nightclub killing 49 people.

How could anyone do such a thing???

Just when things are getting calm, something like this happens.

I try not to think of it because whenever I do, tears well up, and I’m fasting and already dehydrated enough. I can’t afford to lose more water.

Oh Allah have mercy.

I’ve been immersing myself in Quran. Lots and lots of Quran. It always helps put things in perspective.

And it makes me feel grateful because no matter how tumultuous the world is getting, alhamdu lillah, things are good with myself and my own family situation.

I can pray for the world, I can pray for the victims. And I can work to tell stories that try to make sense out of it all, and urge others towards a better world view.

That’s about it.

A friend puts it bluntly, ‘Just because the world’s going nuts, doesn’t mean you have to.’

Destroying my own mental health isn’t going to help the situation any. Instead it’s time to lean in, plod on. Patience. Perseverance. God loves those who patiently persevere.

 

 

Oh Beautiful Ramadan!

The Prophet (peace be upon him) had encouraged Muslims to welcome this sacred ninth month of the Muslim calendar! Welcome it because during this month the doors of heaven are opened and the doors of hell are closed and all the shayateen (devils) are chained up and have no power to influence us.

It is not easy.

But there is something very exciting about it!

I was writing a novel recently and I came to describe it, that you think it’s going to be so hard, but then the first week passes and the second week passes, and when you go to the masjid for taraweeh prayer, you feel the peace descend upon you as you listen to the beautiful recitation of the Quran, God’s own book, that was first revealed in this blessed month.

And you see the moon changing, through the lacy cloud cover, or sometimes you can see it better when it’s clear, and you see it waxing, and then waning, the days and nights inevitably passing, and you get into the rhythm of the month so that you hardly feel the hunger and thirst of the days, even though the days are long because it’s at the height of summer.

And before you know it, the month is passing and you’re getting ready for Eid!

Oh it is a beautiful month.

My heart is light.

I am surrounded with peace.

And even though I have a bunch of presentations in the fall to prepare for, including the National Council of Teachers of English convention in Atlanta, Georgia where I will be conducting two presentations, I am at peace, and I know I will work towards it insha Allah and everything will be okay.

Last night I watched The Martian with Matt Damon. During Ramadan I try to stay away from stupid nonsense and dirty stuff in particular, and The Martian is really just a good story. It’s in the end, when Damon is lecturing to a group of students that the themes of the story really come together. It’s well worth watching, and it makes me realize that more and more Hollywood is tired of the normal story format. There are no ‘love interests’ in the new stories. And good on that.

And yet there’s something missing. Soul.

Hollywood and science fiction is incredibly amoral, and areligious.

And kind of depressing.

I hope whoever reads this has a wonderful month of Ramadan, whether you celebrate it or not, whether you fast or not, and I hope this month will bring the world one step closer to peace.

Ameen

Remember to cultivate the ability to laugh at yourself…

Especially when things are really funny!

Like when you had a chip on your shoulder and you made a terrible mistake, a faux pas, and then life has a way of circling around back at you, as if to nod and say, “It’s okay.”

That’s what happened to me today.

About twenty years ago, when I was still just starting to try to get published, I tried writing everything and anything, just to get a publishing credit so that I could mention it on my cover letters so editors could take me a tich more seriously.

I always admired OWL and ChickaDEE magazines! They’re Canadian institutions, so naturally I took an oral speech I’d help write for my daughter and tried to turn it into an article for OWL.

I have come to the conclusion that I am NOT a non-fiction author.

Not really.

Despite the occasional article I write for journals and stuff, I can’t write creative non-fiction. Not for the likes of such prestigious magazines anyway, but at the time I didn’t know any better and I wrote the article.

It languished at OWL in the slush pile.

And so I went to this conference back then called STORYMAKERS. The editor of OWL was Sylvia Funston was doing a session, and here’s me sitting in the front row, listening eagerly. And when she said that they respond back within three months, I stuck up my hand and told her it had been six months.

She was kind enough to go back to the offices, dig up my story, and sit down with me the next day to tell me why it didn’t work and what I could do to fix it.

Did I appreciate it?

No, I did not.

LOL.

Omigosh. Like I said, I’ve made every mistake imaginable on my journey to be an author.

I cringe at the way I behaved. I did not appreciate the criticism. I did not even realize what a favour she was doing for me!!!

By the time I did, she had moved on.

I wrote an open letter to Sylvia Funston, I think on this blog, apologizing profusely but I don’t think it ever wended its way toward her.

And then lo and behold, out of the blue, I get a request from ChickaDEE magazine to write a story for them! A fiction story–which I can do!

And which I did.

And now that it’s been finalized and the editing is done, I can say it feels absolutely SURREAL to have written for such a prestigious magazine as ChickaDEE!!!

I asked my editor if she knew Sylvia Funston and whatever happened to her, but no, alas, she was before her time.

I do hope I get to apologize to her one day.

But in the mean time…

CHICKADEE!!!!!!

Judging an audience…

Thing about this field is that I’m ALWAYS learning things!

Just when I think I’ve kind of figured things out, I will go ahead and learn something new.

Like just a few days ago, I did two afternoon presentations.

I thought afternoon presentations would be easier. I’m starting to get anxiety when I have to get up early these days!

Just tackling Toronto traffic, and the worry of getting to the venue on time means I have trouble sleeping the night before.

The presentations themselves are a piece of cake!

Anyway, I did two afternoon presentations and I realized why so many schools book me for the mornings.

Kids are fresher in the morning!

One of the presentations was for kindergarteners, and it was the end of the day.

In Ontario we have full day kindergarten and as a result these little tiny kids are at school from nine in the morning. Poor little things, some are so young!

I decided long ago to never take it personally if a kid dozes off during a presentation.

I told myself, maybe they need the sleep more than they need to hear my stories.

So when I saw this little boy starting to sway, and his eyes starting to close, I thought, oh well, can’t catch everyone.

But when more started keeling over, I got really disappointed.

I think there were a total of about twelve little kindergarteners, who gradually drooped to the gymnasium floor, and fell fast asleep, in the middle of Silly Chicken and Big Red Lollipop.

And I thought, Yup, no wonder they book me for the mornings. I will stop complaining about that from now on.

At the end of the presentation, as the teachers were waking up the sleepy heads, one of the teachers came up to me and said, “You were awesome!”

I was so surprised. And I said, “But I put them to sleep!”

And she said, “That’s because you’re a wonderful storyteller. You have a very soothing voice.”

And I looked at her astonished. And I said, “Okay. I’ll take that.” Sure. I put them to sleep because I’m so good.

LOL.

But honestly I think I’d rather see them in the mornings from now on.

Intersectionality…

Never heard of this concept until I spoke to someone in the biz and she mentioned it and then I looked it up.

It’s a feminist term that basically articulates the nagging feeling of condescension that many women of color feel from our white feminist colleagues.

It’s the feeling that the only way they would consider us ‘successful’ is if we adopt the exact same attitudes, platitudes and attributions as they do.

That basically the ideals of white women are the only ideals that all women should strive for.

I’m not sure if I’m a ‘feminist’ exactly.

And yet I remember Katie Couric’s speech at that gala event I attended a few weeks back where she said that if you believe in women’s rights, you bet your life you should call yourself a feminist.

But thing is, I also believe in men’s rights. Basically I believe in justice for everyone.

And yes, that includes women. So I guess I am a ‘feminist’.

When I came back from Pakistan this time I really got a very different idea of the dynamics there.

It’s so funny how much things have changed. When I was doing the teachers’ workshop, there were many men in the workshop and they had no problems with me, a woman, leading the workshop. They eagerly participated, and so did the women, and yet the women hung back. More out of modesty though than anything else.

How does modesty fit into feminism? It’s not bold. It’s not brash. It doesn’t seem to be something white feminists even value and yet, I think it is valuable.

Intersectionality is also the idea that women of color experience an intersection of challenges, not all of which have to do with their gender. For example we experience racism, class-ism, age-ism and others as well.

So the solutions we strive for may not be the same as those striven for by our western counterparts. And what we consider success might also look different and basically western feminists should stop trying to make us feel bad about that.

I did a presentation recently on Wanting Mor, and the topic of other very famous novels written by white feminists came up. I was asked how I viewed them and I said flat out that I found them to be insulting. Despite the fact that sometimes the authors had good intentions, ultimately the story line comprised of a Muslim girl, abused and oppressed, dressing up as a boy and running away. And my beef is, really? Is that the only solution a white feminist could come up with? Can’t the girl resolve her problems from within the culture? And what does that really tell girls from that culture???

And yes, this is all about intersectionality.

It’s so cool when someone puts a name on a nagging feeling you’ve felt all your life.

And maybe it means that women of color, and particularly, authors of color are taking back their voice. We’re no longer being dictated to in terms of what we should accept as our measure of success.

And it means there is real hope that we can bring about more understanding between the western and eastern hemispheres, between white and non-white cultures.

We can only hope.

Coaxing Reluctant Children speakers through Anxiety…

Just finished a workshop through the Toronto District School Board with a bunch of kids and it was a very interesting experience.

Apparently parents called in, asking if the kids could tell their stories with their ‘papers’.

That has never happened before and I’ve been doing the workshops for the past three years.

It was pretty alarming to the children when I announced they’d be doing the stories without them. I told them, “It’s story TELLING my dears, not story READING.

Omigosh! The flurry!

I always tell myself in these kinds of situations to just chill, RELAX! It’s no skin off my nose if they tell the stories with their papers!

Yes it’s a crutch!

And yes they’ll do a terrible job telling if they’re glancing at their papers every two seconds, or even just reading off them, yes they won’t have learned to stand on their own two feet and recall a story from memory, yes they won’t have realized that in storytelling there’s no such thing as perfection! Because you don’t memorize the story! So they won’t have learned the art of spontaneity! And the art of dramatization!

And as I was thinking all these things along with the literacy aspect, where they write the stories from their home countries down and set them in Toronto, it occurred to me how very valuable an experience the workshops really are! Not only am I teaching the kids, I’m teaching the teachers how to do such workshops themselves.

I’ve even been doing these exercises with my grandchildren.

Every once in a while, instead of me telling them stories, I have them get up and tell a story they’ve recalled. Even the three and four year olds do their best to remember a story. Sure they stand and fidget and they smile shyly as they tell them, but they do it! And when they’re done we show our appreciation.

The trick is, when they stumble, and yes, they will stumble, instead of grabbing for a paper, all I do is coax the story out of them with a few gentle questions.

Oh man, there were a few kids in the group who were so nervous of telling, they actually began to cry. And yet they had some wonderful stories to tell!!!

With them, I told them, “Come and stand right beside me.” And somehow they took courage from my proximity and as I coaxed the stories out of them, the tears slowly vanished, and they focused on me and the story, not the audience.

They got through it!

Imagine the sense of accomplishment! Imagine the courage it gave them to tackle other new endeavors!

One of the girls was so quiet, she told her story in just above a whisper. For her, I did a relay. She spoke the story to me, and then I told it to the group. Oh the story was wonderful! She had really done her research!!!

They had one day of a ‘dress rehearsal’ and then the next day, it was on for real!

And because it’s important to have something at stake, a bit of pressure! I offered up a prize for the best storyteller. (It was a DVD of me storytelling.)

The teachers asked me to excuse some of the students because they were suffering anxiety.

Anxiety!

In eight year old grade three students!

What the heck is the world coming to?

Why are kids so anxious? And these kids were more affluent than the others I’d dealt with.

None of the poorer students I’d dealt with opted out of telling a story. Maybe it didn’t even occur to them that opting out was a choice.

I didn’t care if they were horrible at it, the simple act of getting up in front of your peers and speaking is good experience for the real world!

This is what I told the kids. I said that you need to push yourself sometimes to do something that is uncomfortable and scary. If you don’t, how will you ever grow?

Alhamdu lillah, in the end, every single student got up and told a story, some of them were of course better than others.

What was really interesting was that it ended up that there were five students who received perfect scores! (I’m not a very hard marker! And I don’t believe in deducting points for no reason.) What to do? What to do?

In the end, I just gave them each a DVD.

And two of the finalists were kids who struggled with English! The teacher was amazed that they’d won.

It’s so good for them to shine in such a way!

It’s such a confidence booster!

I found out that one of the finalists on the other hand was a girl who always won at things. And it was interesting because it occurred to me that maybe I should not let her win for this, and then part of me thought, geez, why not???

Should I really penalize her for being good at things and confident???

No way!

So I let her win, and I’m glad.

It’s kind of beneficial because I’m coming at these kids with a completely blank slate. And the winners are always about proficiency.

When the kids realized this was my last day with them they all groaned, “Awwwwww!” And they asked, “When will we ever see you again???”

Oh they were so cute.

I had such a lovely time with them! But at the same time, it’s always a LOT of work!

And I won’t deny that just maneuvering to arrive on time through Toronto traffic, does give me ANXIETY!

Alhamdu lillah!

Underestimating children…

It’s funny how many adults and educators assume that children only want to laugh.

They only want to have fun.

I did too.

When I first began school presentations I assumed that the funny stories would be the ones that would reach the children the best.

That perhaps I’d have to coax them into being interested in more altruistic story lines like The Roses in My Carpets.

I guess it goes back to that teacher I overhead in Cambridge, MA, when I was at the Children’s Literature New England conference back in the summer of 1996.

I had read out an early draft of The Roses in My Carpets and I overheard her saying to another lady, “…yeah but what kind of kids would like it?”

We underestimate the altruistic streak that exists in so many kids. I mean what else are superhero stories about? Except helping other people?

I’ve been doing workshops after school as part of the Toronto Public Library’s Sophie’s Studio. They’re free workshops designed to encourage the creativity and writing skills of the kids who enroll.

About eighteen kids have been coming every Wednesday afternoon from 4-5:30. And it’s tough!

It’s got to be engaging because as an after school program, these kids don’t have to be there!

Well there was one kid who definitely didn’t want to be there!

He spent most of the time, not participating, reading his comic book instead.

Part of the program I do with the kids includes my The Roses in My Carpets presentation because it really illustrates the creative process.

I thought I’d have to trim it for the purpose because the juicy part that applied was really about how I wrote the story, the inspiration behind it, not all the social studies bits.

One of the kids in the group whose story was getting off to a bit of slow start sat for most of the presentation with her hand over her mouth and a look of shock on her face.

And this whole group–very gregarious at times–were totally silent, and the little disengaged kid who was being forced to come, he sat right in front, and for the first time, he had his eyes wide open and was totally engrossed.

At the beginning of the presentation I asked them, “Who wants to do some good with the stories they write?”

ALL of them put up their hands!

All of them!

And that surprised me, and then I thought no, it shouldn’t. Because here I’d been guilty of the same thing.

Underestimating these kids!

Well I only have one more session with them.

I always learn so much from the kids in the workshop! And this time is no exception.

Thing is, kids really do respond to good art.

We might think they won’t get it, but on some deep level they do.

Reminds me of when my son was only two years old and he found Pride & Prejudice very interesting. Pride and Prejudice! With Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy!!!

We need to give the kids access to not only silly humorous stories, but to deeper more profound stories!

Think of it this way, we don’t always like the silly stuff! Sometimes we, as adults yearn for something that will really challenge us, spiritually and intellectually!

Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate Captain Underpants and a good fart joke. Just that I also long for something more wholesome.

Our tastes, as well as the tastes of children, run the gamut.

Do not underestimate them!!!