Digging through old files and found these INSPIRATIONAL words from a former student. Earlier this year, Mr. Smith had us each bring in something we thought was beautiful to share with the class. There were definitely some pretty memorable ones. Devante had his shoebox with secret compartments, Kaniesha had her gnarly sledding scar, Kenneth had his shoes and his story, I had a raggedy old bracelet that I drag across desks and handrails all day... The speech that stuck out in my mind the most, however, was also probably the shortest. Anthony shrugged and said he didn’t bring anything because he didn’t think anything was beautiful. I also remember that, at the time, I was sad. I was sad that he felt this way, but also that I didn’t know how to prove him wrong. What was I going to do, put a sunset in a box and leave it on his doorstep? Collage an entire album of Marilyn Monroe snapshots? Find him a heart-shaped rock and make up some cheesy story about how it represents all the love in the world? I decided, at the time, that I should probably just abandon that pursuit and let him believe what he wanted. After all, it’s not up to me to save the world, right? As the year went on, however, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. What if I was the one who was wrong? What if there really is no beauty in the world? Then I thought of seeing toddlers share their snacks, of finger painting on the sidewalk in July, of ocean waves after a storm that look like ink-soaked sheets being shaken out by the enormous hands of a slowly retreating gray sky, and decided that the world was not at fault here, but merely my ability to deliver the world to my friend whose mind I wanted so much to change. I looked around Seattle for beauty to give him. I saw huge bags of candy, dried flowers, Russian pastries, beautiful women in ugly dresses, musicians playing for pennies, half-built skyscrapers in the dying twilight, pond water glowing in the evening sun like it wasn’t full of plankton and toxic chemicals, flowers bursting forth from trees and bushes on all sides of a pathway... How in the world, I thought, can I give him all of this? Would he even want it? I really did try. I thought a lot. I pondered hypothetical reasons for gifting journals and mason jars full of sand and really old pennies and stolen ukuleles and came right back to the fact that he didn’t need stuff. Beauty is not stuff. Beauty is something you feel, something you believe or you don’t... I think it’s beautiful that Anthony is never angry. I have seen him sad, I have seen him frustrated, and I have seen him even mad a couple of times – it happens to the best of us – but I’ve never seen him allow himself to be consumed by his disgust or rage. Anthony’s reasoning and ability to make any situation worth processing and learning from is beautiful. I know that I have a very small window at which I have a rather short stool to stand on and peek over the ledge into Anthony’s life. There are so many pieces that I cannot counter or compliment because I have not seen them. All I know is what I’ve seen, and what I’ve seen is a patient, compassionate, intelligent, dedicated person who keeps his word and stays optimistic even if it might be killing him. It’s often hard to judge or see things in yourself. Perhaps that is why Anthony doesn’t always see the beauty in the world: because he is made up of and tied into so much of it.
Posted on: Sun, 10 Nov 2013 23:07:10 +0000
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015