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Last weekend, after attending an education conference in Chicago, I was able to visit my seven-year-old nephew Ben in Madison, Wisconsin. My sister-in-law had just returned from a trip the week before, and at first Ben was concerned that my presence might signify her approaching absence. I was so excited to spend a little sliver of time with Ben, but shortly after I arrived, he was scheduling my departure. Ben has autism and prefers a clear schedule. As my sister-in-law shared the day’s schedule with him, he kept inserting, “and then Aunt Mary will go home.”
His parents reassured him that they were not going anywhere, that we would all be spending time together. During my visit, Ben and I sat next to each other on the couch and read stories. I watched him jump on his small trampoline and matched his jumps with jumps of my own. I clapped the right number of times for every round of B-I-N-G-O, and when I missed a clap, Ben gently adjusted my hands. I marveled at his sweet nature, his beautiful watercolors and the words he was able to write. The next evening when my brother-in-law mentioned to Ben that it would be time for me to leave the next day, Ben opened his eyes wide and said, “Aunt Mary does NOT want to go home.”
In a twenty-four-hour period, we had moved from a place of misunderstanding to a place of understanding.
Ben turns eight in a few days, and one of the books that we gave him for his birthday was a beautiful book that belonged to Anna and Seabass titled Our Animal Friends at Maple Hill Farm, written by Alice and Martin Provensen. The book chronicles the lives of all the animals who live on the farm from badgers and moles to geese and ducks to cats and dogs. Here is one of my favorite passages from the book.
“In a quiet corner of an overgrown field, where the snow lies deepest and the oak trees hold their leaves all winter, a beloved hound named John, lies buried. Three cats are buried here—Webster, the first Siamese, a dear, dirty white cat named Crook, who stole from the table, and FAT Boy, who looked like Max.
In this quiet corner, the best wildflowers grow, and the first peepers are heard in the spring, even before the snow melts. Here, owls call from the treetops in the early morning, and the irreverent crows hold their noisy conventions. Here, the mother deer has her fawn, and the migrating geese come to rest. It is here that the fox is safe from hunters.”
I think one of the reasons I love the book so much is because the descriptions of the animals show a deep understanding of them. These animals were really loved and seen by their owners. This is a community of care.
The conference I attended before I went to see Ben was focused on behavior management strategies. A lot of times when people think about behavior management in education or in parenting, they think about rules and consequences, but one of the most effective management strategies isn’t about being more rigid or strict. Instead, it is about ensuring that your kids feel seen by you. As a classroom teacher, you can do this by welcoming students by name at the door or by carving out individual time for students where you can learn about them, where you can give them the gift of your presence without expecting something of them. As a parent, seeing your children might mean sharing the schedule for the day with them. It might mean saying yes to go play basketball when your schedule really allows no time for basketball. It might mean sitting with them as they share their problems rather than jumping in to problem solve for them.
We all need to be seen, and we have all experienced times in our lives where we felt less seen. In classrooms, neighborhoods and community spaces, small acts of kindness and love can go a long way towards individuals feeling seen. These small acts of kindness and love can mean the difference between someone feeling lost and alone to someone feeling like they belong, like they are a part of something bigger than themselves.
This fall, Dan and Seabass built me a Little Free Library. This was something I had long desired, so their gift made me feel seen. I painted it, and we all installed it together. Anna and I planted tulip and daffodil bulbs around the base which I am eager to see pop up over the next few weeks.
I love our Little Free Library so much. I love filling it with books I think others will enjoy. I love seeing the books that our neighbors leave for others to find. Since its installation, our little library has become more than a place to find a book. It has become a space for community care.
People sometimes leave food in the library. I wasn’t crazy about this at first. I had a vision for my curated library, and that vision didn’t involve canned goods, but the food went fast. Someone needed it. Someone provided it, and someone appreciated it. In addition to the food, stuffies, action figures, tiny animals and puzzles sometimes show up in the library.
Our library reminds me of the secret hiding place in the Radley tree in To Kill a Mockingbird where Jem and Scout find gum, twine and soap figurines in their likeness, treasures that make them feel special, treasures that make them feel seen. The tree is sacred because it symbolizes one neighbor looking out for another. Similarly, our library is sacred for the same reason. We give and receive gifts which say, I see you, I care about you, I’m glad you are here, and maybe your day would be brighter if you took home this tiny gold rhinoceros.
Maybe these small acts are just what we need to move our communities from places of misunderstanding to places of understanding.
Please stick around for some conversation in the comments. Let’s get to know our neighbors in this space. What is the best thing you found in a Little Free Library? If you could leave one book in a Little Free Library, what would it be? If those questions aren’t for you, tell us what you are reading, or just say hi. Please take a minute to respond to the comments of others. It makes people feel seen.
“A lot of times when people think about behavior management in education or in parenting, they think about rules and consequences, but one of the most effective management strategies isn’t about being more rigid or strict. Instead, it is about ensuring that your kids feel seen by you.”
I love how you articulated this. As a parent I was not strict and didn’t have “rules,” but it doesn’t feel intentional on my part, and I’ve never been able to articulate why we parented this way. It was an instinct I think. And also I don’t love the effort of enforcing rules. 😂
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We live across from a cemetery, and this last year someone set up a little free library in there of books about grieving.
During COVID lockdown, one of my neighbors set up a free puzzle exchange in her free library!
We have them all over here and I think they’re so fun!
Your post made my heart smile. So much generosity and love from sharing time with your nephew, positive interactions with students and the desire to share and give.
Thank you!