Do warthogs really have warts?

We have started Poetry in 4^th grade, and I could not be more excited. I have been anxiously awaiting this unit; I have been prepped for weeks waiting for the time to come. This makes me seem like such a nerd, but I don’t care! I love poetry; there is no pressure for rules. Kids get to explore a different side of writing, a more ridiculous and imaginative side of writing. AND I don’t have to be the crazy punctuation lady! Woo Hoo!

Part of our poetry unit included creating a “Wonder Wall”. Our wonder wall is full of different types of questions and wonderings. Our wall is full of wonderings about school, friends, God, animals, and even time travel.

Some of our wonderings:

“ Who created pizza?”

“Why can’t we see God?”

“Why can’t we control electricity with our hands?”

“Why can’t we talk to animals?”

“Why can’t characters come to life?”

and my personal favorite that started them all...

“Do warthogs really have warts?”

As we write and wonder, I challenged the kids to find a friend’s wondering and write about it, more specifically write the answer you think should go there. (They think I am nuts, but what else is new.) However, I have found that they are way more excited to ask the questions then to find or create the answers.  They love building questions off of one another, but when I offer to help find answers they simply decline. Unless it is about Futbol, then they are all game.

Yesterday, I saw another example of this lack of desire for answers. I handed them a sheet of ridiculous questions. Questions that I found in a book to stir their imagination, to challenge their thinking. Questions like: What are the names of your fingers and toes? What are things you like to count? What are things that are uncountable? My favorite one that stumped them: If you planted your heart, what would grow? What color shoes would it wear? These questions have no right or wrong answers. And in all honestly the literal ones don’t fit quite as well as the ridiculous ones. They have to be creative. They have to push themselves out of their comfort zones. They have to be willing to really think, and yet not think at all.

Once again, they looked at me like I was insane.

At one point yesterday, I said to the entire class, “If you need help with writing, come to the rug”. 8 kids came. The ones that did were not surprising.  As they looked at me and asked for help, I asked them if they had even read the questions. A lot of them had not. We worked through it for the last 15 minutes of class and I was impressed with some for trying and others just wrote the very literal answers that they could not see past. I was not surprised or disappointed.

At the end of the day, as I was reading their answers and cleaning up I couldn’t help but think about the whole process of asking questions and if it was really that different as an adult. Are we able to answer the hard/strange questions? Or are we just good at asking them? Or are we even good at that?

The day before, my friend and I were talking about hard life questions, their answers and the days we first really told one another about our past. For me, it was like three days into living in La Paz ha-ha. I remember sitting in the kitchen crying with my roommates I barely new and telling them about the good things, the hard things, and everything in between. I cannot honestly remember why I told them then, or why it even came up, but I did and I have no regrets.

We talked more about how that night changed our friendship. The night I was real and answered the hard questions about life was also the night she felt like the door to sharing her life was opened. She did not share that night, but it was soon after.

Ever since that night in the kitchen we have been asking and answering hard questions about each other. These often lead to even harder things, but I have never been upset about it. It is beautiful. Seeing a person’s hard past and also best memories are what create genuine friendship. Sharing those questions, and even more important answers, with people we love and trust is what bring us together in real community. Having people that listen and ask questions when we need them too are the people who really show me who Christ is.

This week I was also told by people that I love that I had been encouraging them. I had no idea. I want to do this, I try to do this with notes, actions, and hugs, but that is not what they pointed out. One said I encouraged her because of something I said at dinner one night, sure enough a question I had. I honestly can’t even remember the whole conversation. And the other friend said it was because I was real with what I was feeling that week (mostly upset and frustrated) and that made them feel like it was okay for them to be feeling that way. That blew my mind. Knowing that God could be using my own freak-outs, and just who I am to help others.  I had been so worried this week that I had been too outspoken and dramatic and feeling WAY too much, but He still reminded me that it is okay to be me. That He and others will still love me even when I am not even close to put-together. I think that is pretty cool.

So now I have two goals.

1.     To continue to know what is really happening, to not only know about peoples past, but to know about their present. To love them in the place they are because asking and wondering show that you care. Because that is what makes us real and not robots (even though one of my students would love to be a robot). And honestly, is what causes us to get better and often ask ourselves the same questions. Questioning, and more important listening, is what keep us together. It is what helps people do life, real life, together.

2.     My second goal is to remind myself to do the same with God. As cheesy as it sounds, I sometimes loose myself in trying to figure out how to live life “right” for him, without actually knowing Him. I forget I can ask him the hard questions. I forget that he will give me the hard answers whether I like it or not. 

Questions, good questions and wonderings, are what come from your heart. Sometimes you don’t even know they are there. Sometimes it takes a poster and a basket full of sticky notes to find them deep inside. It goes back to that saying “There are not stupid questions”. As a teacher, in all honesty I sometimes look/ listen to the questions my students ask and wonder, “Where the heck did that come from?” or “Seriously friend, I JUST told you that!” but at least they are asking, even if it will cause me to go bald.

I hope you have a wonderful Saturday and can get to know someone you love even more by asking them a question and listening to the answer J.

Love,

Sara