One of my significant joys of working at the Seed is teaching writing to our elementary students. It’s a process that has evolved over the last 40 years, first as a classroom teacher, and more recently in my role as founding director. It’s a thread I believe to be of utmost importance to keep weaving into the Seed’s curriculum. Teaching children to write is empowering, as they learn that their stories are important and their voices matter. At this point in the year, first and second graders are building fluency as they write short stories about themselves, their favorite foods, toys, and rooms in their homes. Third and fourth graders are learning how to write a strong lead and choose a more specific focus for writing. For example, after writing a piece about a favorite room, students then select an item in the room to explore in more detail. Soon they will learn that when we write about a small topic, it often leads to an exploration of something more universal.
As part of my teaching process, I often work on the same skills as I’m asking the kids to practice. This week I wrote four different leads for a potential story, then selected the one I liked best. The story is about a small desk that was in my mom’s house, which is now in my art room at home. Here’s the piece I ended up writing:
Family Heirlooms
The desk with all its drawers and secret compartments holds stories I’ll never know. Even though it sat in my parents’ dining room for decades, I didn’t think to ask about the desk’s history, let alone the story of each small compartment. Over the years it sat next to the table where we gathered as a family to eat dinners and celebrate birthdays. I loved that small desk and hoped it would be mine some day. I thought someone else in the family might want it, but as luck would have it, I was the only taker. Once my parents were both gone from this world, the desk, with all the original contents still in it, was eventually packed up in a trailer and transported half way across the country to our home in the desert.
Once settled into a corner of my art room, I wasn’t sure how it would be incorporated into my life. Little by little, my great-granddaughter and I explored each drawer, finding old stationery, a miniature stapler, a magnifying glass, and ancient postage stamps, among other treasures. The desk, which is about the size of a small piano, sat in its place with an uncertain future. I wished I’d at least asked my mom who built it and to whom it belonged before she took possession.
About a year after the desk’s arrival, we received another family treasure. From my grandchildren, who are now entering young adulthood, two large plastic tubs of Lego pieces also found a place in the art room. The bins contain thousands of pieces of sets long ago built and then dismantled. Remnants of cars, tree houses, princess carriages, along with an extensive collection of small figures (including Batman and an ASU football player) are in the collection. It is a builder’s dream come true.
My mother’s small desk has become a perfect place to stage an evolving Lego world. Quite a few of the figures were assigned names (including Zike and Lily, who have remained the focal point of much of the activity, each with their own workshop). It’s a dynamic evolving process of imagining, creating, and revising ideas.
As weeks and months of Lego building persist, I can’t help but think of the craftsperson who made the desk. I believe they’d be pleased with the innovation happening on their original creation. I know my mom, also an artist, would be delighted, too.