This week was kind of similar to last week.
They read more of their poems. Their heartbreaking poems.
I almost cried during a few of them.
Then they wrote about an old picture they brought in from home. Jerrica brought in a picture of her little cousin that she loves. Shaianne brought in a picture of herself when she was younger in front of a Christmas tree. They wrote the when, wheres and whys of the picture. They wrote about the emotions they remember having when the picture was taken, or the words that were said before or after the photo was taken. If they forgot to bring in a picture, they wrote about a memory they had. Darius wrote about the first time he won a high jump event at a track meet when he was in 7th grade.
I love this. I love interacting with the kids. I love seeing them smile about being able to take pictures. For a split second, they have nothing to worry about. It's just them and the camera. But what about when they go home? Life doesn't change because they took pictures for an hour on Friday morning. It sounds so pessimistic of me, but think about it: Teaching them how to take and write about photos isn't going to make their home lives any better. It's not going to bring their dad's back. It's not going to stop the shootings in their neighborhoods. It's not going to guarantee food on the table every night. I feel so helpless.
I love them so much, but God loves them 100 times more than I do.
Time for pictures :)
Hallway crazynesss.
Darius, playing with the projector.
The classroom of lovely kids.
Ricquelle playing with Steve's super great camera. :) He's a natural.
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