This is my most requested story. I found this draft and will edit it or have some angel edit it for me some day soon. I wrote this story for a class in Adult Ed, in 1999. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Giving a child their power back before school class. A class I feel should be in every school. A Child's Power Class I was spending 45 minutes with my Grandchild at school before class started. I was there for any child that wanted to learn. Did I say that it was in the mornings before the school bell rang? With these childre I saw them craving to learn. Listening and watching them, they want to read and learn. I noticed they were missing words that are so important in their time of learning. I know! wow what I could have done if I knew they excisted. I noticed that they were wanting me to put an arm around them. They crave encouraging words. As I read their work books, they touch my feelings, on my life. Some morning I would found myself doubting what I was doing. Then I remind myself I am of God. All things are possible! So I put myself in Gods hands. It was like jumping into water too deep. This must have been Neil Armstrong's feeling, as he stepped out onto the moon. His fate must have been strong. Or Amelia Earhart as she climbed into her plane. Even William Shakespears's thoughts as he wrote his words on paper. Yes, I am touching something in a new way. Each day I create and add more new ideas. Most of the time, it is the children that directed me.
I noticed they love receiving. Don't we all. They love hearing words that made them feel good. I felt it would be easier for them to learn to write; If it is something they want to read. Or reading something that makes them feel good. Hear the true, that they believed was true about themselves. I have learned though my changing, "We think it, we do create it". so with that in mind, I feel a great warmth in hearing a child read something that encourages their own uquic inner strength for them.
When I was growing up, I brought with me words that did not feel good to me, like:
She will never amount to anything! She won't be able to do it because..... She is lazy Jeanne! Watch out, she is too stubborn!
She's stubborn turned out a word that helped me. (Stubborn can be a good thing) That block had me climbing for forty-five years. I pray that no child to has to wait 45 years. I felt if they have words that opened them up, And allow good and wonderful things to come from them early in life.
I had a wonderful Aunt Marie, she is in my heart now. ( she has her wings) I was lucky enough to be with her a few hours every couple of years. The words she spoke to me were all positive. Those word carried me to become the person I am today. Having a positive person say one sentence to a child, empowers them, it is a gift of a lifetime. So I thought, what can thirty minutes of all positive words, five times a week do for a child, or even one day? I believed it would give them strength and courage. Give them a set of sentences or words that they can reach for when needed. They will be able to reach for these words to replace the negative words said at time to them as any time.
Children are the most honest people I have encountered in my life. They are born believing the best about themselves. On their birth, their arrival, they come into this world at party filled with hopes and dreams. Each balloon I call "Happy Balloons". as our children grow, someone will come along and with their words pop a balloon with a sentence like:
You can't do that! Pop! You don't know how! Pop! You are bad! Pop! You can't spell! Pop! Pop!
I learned a lesson when I was having a Garage Sale. My daughter needed me to watch two of my Grandchildren for the day, one in diapers and the other in training pants. Two weeks prior when talking with my daughter she had mentioned that she was potty training the oldest. So when they arrived, I asked my daughter to watch the garage sale. I took my grandson hand and walked into the bathroom. I knew I wasn't going to have time later, so I knelt down and told him, "Honey, I hear you know how to use the potty". Not waiting for a response is added, "So I am giving you permission to use my toilet. You do not have to ask. I know you can do this all by yourself. I will be busy, so come straight in here. If you need help, come tell me. You can even wash your hands by climbing on the toilet. I love you and I know you can do it". And again I didn't give him time to respond. I took off in a mad rush as I heard my daughter calling. The only time I was reminded of the bathroom talk was when he came to have his overalls re-hooked.
The next evening I got a call from my daughter. She asked me what I did to my grandson? (Grandmother all know this feeling. lol) I asked her, "Why" I thought, "What did I do wrong now?" She said that my grandson was using the bathroom on his own, ever sense coming home from my house. She said, "What how did you do it?" I said, "So, didn't you tell me two weeks ago that you were potty training him?" Slowly she replied, "Yes, but I never got around to it".
By my assuming he knew how, all I did was give him permission to use my bathroom. When they are small, we tell them to stay out of the bathroom. Stay away from the toilet. Leave the toilet paper alone. All I did was remove that house rule and believed in him.
It was the same concept I was using with the children. I looked at it as I was blowing up their balloons. Teaching them to create more balloons. Showing them how to blow up their own. So if one gets popped, so what! They can blow up another. Each full blown balloon lifts their spirit. Builds their self-esteem.
My parents had good souls. They thought, as so many other families did, that by pointion out my faults, I would try to change them. NOT! Maybe it I beileved in myself more, I could have! But I believed them! My parents were doing their best. Their best, using what both of their parents had taught them. I hadn't been shown how to use my own brain. I had no tools or words to use. My balloons were laying all around me on the ground. They had no air, causing my low self-esteem. Now my Aunt Maire was the one who gave me tools I passed one to these children. She had that gift of always pointing out the good things she seen in me. She believed in me!
At home, when I got bawled out by my parents, I would run to my bedroom. I would repeat them over and over as I cried again. They would pierce a hole in a balloon and I it would slowly flatten to the ground. when I think back on it, I would be the hardest on my balloons. In time the balloons would just lay there. I would not be able to lift my spirits at all. I didn't have enough positive words to believe in about myself.
Around the sixth grade my balloons were so out of air, I became a magnet to others with deflated balloons, We felt the same. Of course we didn't know it. I felt strong around them. When I found I could feel real good with a Boy, that was the greatest joy I had ever experienced. I waned that kind of attention. I craved it. Also their attack and belittling was normal so I allowed it. (But that is another story)
Mother had remarried when I was three. I can not remember ever sitting on his lap. my younger sisters owned his lap. So when I found out what I was missing, I had to have it. Of course that lead me to boys that felt the same way about themselves. They were craving a parents affection. We gave each other what we needed in return. This came naturally to us. Now what do we do? By the time I asked myself that, I had a little one. Now, my parents were mad. Mixed messages! Still I was happy outside, I was going to have a live baby doll to love. (Another story)
So the word cycle starts again. I can only pass on what was done to me. When the baby tries something it is not suppose to do I would tell them what my parent told me, by example. Yes, I found myself using the only words I had been taught.
Bad baby! Pop! Don't touch! Pop! Leave that alone! Pop! You'll never amount to anything! Pop! Pop!
