In a Time of Distance Learning, We Must Remember Story Connects Us #SOL20 #TWTBlog
“Excuse me.”
The voice catches my attention and I hesitate, lifting my foot out of the kayak.
“How long is the full loop?”
Chris and I exchange a look and pull the kayak ashore. Riley hops out and I grab her leash.
“We have never kayaked this river before. It says it should take 2-3 hours.”
The couple glances at each other.
“Do you think it is difficult?” she asks.
I step forward to discuss what I know with them. Chris motions to communicate he is heading back to the car. I refocus on the conversation with the couple. Then my attention is pulled away.
“Clare!” Chris screams from the parking lot.
I turn and see a dog running toward me like a fast speed train. I realize he is coming at me. Without thinking, I bend to pick up Riley knowing she will be no match for this dog. I scoop her up and try to run. I barely make it half-way to a stand before I feel the impact. I am thrown to the ground as a piercing sting shoots down my arm and leg. I try to grip Riley, but the force is too strong.
I see the blood covering my arm and Riley pinned under the weight of the dog. I scream and scream – releasing the pain and fear surging through my body. I move outside the moment until the scene around me once again comes into focus as I feel the weight of a hand on my shoulder.
“She is okay. She is hurt, but she will be okay. She repeats looking into my eyes and trying to also comply with the six-foot rule, “Your dog is going to be okay.” I realize she is cradling Riley in her arms as her husband supports Chris in obtaining the paperwork we need on the dog that attacked us.
Time continues to move slowly as I am keenly aware of everything around me. My senses are on high alert. I am helped to our car, buckled in, and we are sent on our way. On the ride home, I ask, “Did you get their names?” Chris responds, “Yes, he gave us all of his contact information, rabies documentation, and pet insurance.” I listen, confused, “Not the owner. The couple who helped us. Did you get their information?” He responds, “No, I did not.”
Weeks later, our wounds have healed, but my heart aches to know their names. The strangers who put their bodies in harm’s way, who cared for us and stood by us. As I replay this scene over and over in my mind, I am always left comforted. I will never forget the warmth of the hand on my shoulder and the sound of her voice.
So many educators are sharing the texts they plan to read aloud throughout the first weeks of school with each other. While I am building my stack, I also like to think about the writing pieces I plan to share during these early weeks. All summer long, I journal and draft different small moments, images, topics, and ideas. Since many teachers start the year with personal narrative I am always on the look-out for the slice of life I want to share. One of my family’s favorite pastimes is waging on which story will be the winner – which one will I choose to share with teachers and students to launch the year.
When I choose a slice of life to share as a model, I tend to think about what I want to share about myself, my writing process, and craft. What do I know about these writers? What will engage them? What might they connect to? What are the new craft moves I plan to teach? I think about all the possibilities to model within my drafts. I don’t want to start with an edited or final draft. I want to invite the students to confer with me, to be my audience, and to help me revise my piece. I want to teach them how to be a reader for their partner and allow them to observe how I use their feedback to rethink my writing.
This is the small moment I decided to share this year. I found my topic by reflecting on a strong feeling. I decided to make it about something I did in nature since so many kids spent more time hiking, biking, and being outside this summer. I wanted to find a topic that would lead us into conversations about kindness, hope, and the power of community. At a time when we all feel so disconnected, I want to remind young writers the power of compassion can still prevail.
Have you started to plan how you will launch your writing workshop this fall? Which slices of life will you share to launch and connect your writing community? Why are you choosing those slices? While many of us may begin our year at a distance, we need to remember …
