Willy can be unbelievably loud, extremely curt, and crass. He has a sense of humor that is developed beyond his years. I know that he knows more than I do about things, because in his innocence, he agrees to believe it.
Today we were discussing which extracurriculars the kids had signed up for this school year. Some boasted that they had signed up to take hip hop dance lessons, others are learning golf, and a handful are supporting the theatre department. I suggested that they plea to perform a play of their own choice, as in previous years, the drama teacher always made the selection.
Suddenly they remembered that they could think for themselves, and they spouted out names left and right, settling for The Hunger Games and Labyrinth. An immediate image of David Bowie donned in glitter star make-up and a Chewbaca wig flashed before me. More importantly, my own mind jumped to the other worlds that go on existing alongside the limited one we navigate in our ignorance.
Willy was seated above the playground before we gathered the troops to migrate to the library. Out of nowhere, he said that he felt like he belonged there… implying that he belonged in those other worlds.
He said he felt an affinity for the character, Percy Jackson. He felt that the world he came from, Camp Half-Blood, was so familiar… like he'd been there several times himself. Whether or not I expressed out loud that he was probably right, it was what I was thinking (and believing) in that moment. Perhaps, about us both.
Word of the Day: (provided by 5th grade homework time) migrate