I arrived to the gymnasium—the same one that I played midnight tag and dodge ball in years ago—early because I was pretty excited to start tutoring and helping out the kids in my old elementary school. I looked around the gym and saw kids I knew from my classes at the high school already working with some of the younger kids. As time ticked by I sat going through some things I wanted to make sure to work on over the coming months. I was beginning to think the kid I was supposed to be tutoring wouldn’t show, so I began gathering my things to leave. I started to walk out the door when the Kidz 2 Kids organizer approached me and introduced me to a young boy in the second grade. His name was Jaymz; yes, Jaymz, that isn’t a typo that is really how his name was spelled.
Jaymz was a scruffy looking kid—showing signs of a rough life at home—that he hid behind grungy clothes and ruffled hair. It looked like he had seen more pain and suffering in his eight years of life than I had in my seventeen. A black eye and fat lip were marks he wore of an abusive father. His parents were probably drug addicts who were rarely around, but when they were, they made sure to abuse him either mentally or physically: as the marks on his face would show. His clothes were covered in dirt and getting raggedy from the many days straight he probably had to wear them. The thing that shocked me the most about this boy is that behind the dirt and wear of a life too rough for an eight year old, his eyes showed happiness and an unforgettable eagerness to learn.
After the introductions, we sat down at one of the lunch tables set out for the Kidz 2 Kids tutoring session. Jaymz looked at me and said, “You don’t hafta help me ya know. I know I’m a good for nothing dog that won’t go anywhere in life.”
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
After reading your literary narrative, I still have goosebumps from the line that seemed to tie the whole theme together: "The thing that shocked me the most about this boy is that behind the dirt and wear of a life too rough for an eight year old, his eyes showed happiness and an unforgettable eagerness to learn."
ReplyDeleteYour writing style is very descriptive and the reader can imagine all of these elements happening. It's a great story and the way your are telling it is very interesting. Nice job so far.
The first page of your narrative really is a a great opening that is able to pull the reader into the story very well. In dealing with young children, it is inspirational how hard many of them persevere despite their rough lives.
ReplyDeleteTo share a similar story, I was on a mission trip in El Salvador where I met a young boy, Emmanuel, who was about 10 years old. His family lived in a shack (we were working on a cinderblock home for him, his mother and siblings ) and he was the man of the house, his father had left. So Emmanuel was responsible for cooking and cleaning and taking care of his siblings while his mother worked, yet he still had the perseverance to go to school (something many kids his age simply choose not to do). It is just amazing how some kids stick it out against all odds.