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people & stories / gente y cuentos | |
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During the first night of a People and Stories
series at Summit Quest Academy, while discussing Langston Hughes’s
“Thank You, M’am,” I asked why Mrs. Jones avoids asking about
Roger’s life, home and family. Tyreese shouted out, “She doesn’t
want him to catch feelings.” I
realize that much of the satisfaction of this series resulted from us
doing just that: catching feelings. And it never fails to humble me when I
witness this happen with participants who think they are no longer capable
of feeling deeply. Summit
Quest, near Lancaster, Pennsylvania, serves teenaged males who are
mandated to placement as juvenile sex offenders or for reasons related to
mental and emotional health. I did not have to work hard to get these
young men to contribute, clarify or contradict themselves and one another.
They never seemed locked into one reading of a story. These eager
participants made me realize that no story ever feels fixed or finished,
and so neither must we. And in this realization is great hope. After
our readings, no one hesitated to talk about serious subjects in the
stories and to explore these themes in their own lives. It was
exhilarating to see these young men tackle challenging, dense pieces and
spin out rich readings of them. The power of this series had to do with
our need to be heard, respected and taken seriously when we speak. In
turn, we bore the responsibility of listening thoughtfully. Among
so many beautiful, powerful moments, I want to remember how “Thank You,
M’am” made their voices soften as they spoke of those who believed in
them even when they had done wrong; how it allowed us to talk about making
mistakes and not being defined
by our mistakes. I want to remember how Gish Jen’s story “Chin”
let us talk achingly about whether it is harder to be the one beaten or
the one who witnesses the beating. I
want to remember that when reading Louise Erdrich’s “The Shawl,” we
questioned why, if some myths can be re-visioned, we can’t re-vision the
future we might think has been written for us. We wondered how we can
offer better than we have been given and do better than we have done. I
want to remember how Barbara Neely’s “Spilled Salt” made the boys
contemplate how their actions have made others feel. It made them consider
how the world outside Summit Quest changes while they are inside, and how
awkward it can feel to visit home on a pass. I
want to remember how Catherine Ryan Hyde’s “The Man Who Found You in
the Woods” let us talk about how we have felt abandoned, how we learn to
trust or mistrust others and sometimes ourselves, how we have survived all
we have seen and done and all that has been done to us. I feel a great tenderness for these tough and tender boys of Summit Quest. I cherished my time with them and the stories. I appreciated their deep feeling and great effort. I savored what I heard. It was not always easy or comfortable, but it was always meaningful. Their voices and words echo, resonate and reveal insights long after the readings have ended. I value what the program offered them, and me. I do not know a better word for this than love. |