I usually enjoy my volunteer time at the school. Some days I even love it.
And then there are the other days.
I was working one-on-one with writing students last week. I had one particular child who came to me with absolute gibberish all over the paper. Sentences didn't even make sense let alone have proper punctuation. This is a child of at least average intelligence. There was no excuse for this state of affairs. He just wasn't in the mood. I tried coming at it from a variety of angles to no avail. He then proceeded to tell me that I was the problem. That I could not appreciate his "art."
I kindly explained that I was definitely not a connoisseur of the arts and that I might very well be missing the meaning of his "art," but that we needed to get busy with some writing. Art would have to come later. He responded by telling me: "You're not very nice."
I had two things to share with young Picasso that I, thankfully, had the sense to keep to myself:
The fact that no one understands you does not make you an artist
I'll try to act nicer if you'll try to act smarter.
I think I'm ready to make rock candy with the fourth-graders tomorrow.
Wish me luck.
picture from google images