We discussed some local success stories, some youth success stories, and how with a good business plan, they also can grow up to be entrepreneurs. We even discussed that 4th grade isn't too early to start and I heard ideas for babysitting, lawn mowing, cookie baking, and dog walking. I was charmed by my single-digit aged students and their enthusiasm was contagious.
I also talked to a young person with an old soul and a story that we forget is commonplace once you leave the cloistered suburban life. The story is so compelling that I want you to hear it and think about it for a while. Consider what the days and nights are like for this person who is not even 10 years old.
During a classroom break, I asked her if she was looking forward to summer. My student said that she was not sure what summer would be like, but that she would be going back and forth between her mom and dad's house. I nodded and said, I know that can be tough, my parents divorced when I was just a little older than you are.
She nodded and must have felt at ease with me because I heard a story that shocked me, but I just listened. She went on to tell me about a tremendous age difference between her parents. Her father is 25 years older than her mother. He had a stroke last year. And she said that she loves him because he does the best he can for her, but cannot do as much as he used to. She also said he has had trouble finding a job, not just due to the stroke, but also because he used to be in prison. She said that he beat a man with a baseball bat in a restaurant. I inhaled sharply upon hearing this but also didn't want to compromise her need to talk with my shock.
I asked her if she had any brothers or sisters and my well-spoken friend said she had several half-siblings. That her mom was expecting a baby in October, and then she said she hoped it would be better than her two-year-old sibling who was born at 24 weeks and spent months in the hospital.
I resisted the urge to fill in any blanks and took what she shared with me at face value. It was a stark reminder that we rarely know nor can we even begin to imagine the story behind the people we assume so much about so often. We assume that we know what the life of a student in an inner-city school is like. We assume we know solutions for families and how they should live. We assume far too much about people we know nothing about.
This is what I know. This young lady told me how she has a brother that she loves, even if she has not seen him since she was two. She said, "Because that's what family does." She told me that she loves her dad because he does his best. She said she hoped her mom's pregnancy was easier than her last one because that was scary.
As a writer who loves a good story, I wish I could have sat and talked all day with my new friend. I asked her if she ever wrote about what she saw and knew. She told me that she writes every day, and pulled out a torn spiral notebook sheet filled with tidy cursive writing filling all the lines. She had titled it, "The Story of Me".
I encouraged her to keep writing because when she was a famous entrepreneur, people would want to know her story and that some people may even want to know it before then. Like me.
And I realized, I want to tell her story. I want you to know the story of a quiet young lady, with a serious gaze and dark eyes. Just in case she gets too busy surviving to tell the world her story of an old soul. Old before her time, but filled with love and goodness.
Because we should never assume. Instead, let's hope. Let's wrap this young woman and hundreds like her around our nation in our collective optimism. But let's do more than hope.
Let's listen to their stories. Maybe, somewhere... there is an answer.
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