Fifty Minutes
On Tuesdays, after recess, we gather around the rug and sit in a circle. I see the faces of my students, red from running outdoors and I watch their eyes. Their eyes hold wonder and curiosity behind their dark pupils. For fifty minutes, we read poems and short stories. We study pieces of art. We share our feelings. We laugh. It is my favorite part of the week. In circle, we talk about Malala, her fight for education and the fact that she was the youngest person ever to win the Nobel Peace Prize as a teenager. We talk about the past and how segregation used to be a way of life. We talk about other young writers in elementary school, Langston Hughes, Elizabeth Alexander, and what it means to be brave. My students don’t understand hate or the idea that one group of individuals is valued over another. They simply, but simply is not the right word, they unapologetically see faces. Faces of friends, family, and p...