Tag Archives: Bronx

No Snowflake is Alike

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I walked into Second Grade after they had art and some children were in a disarray because their snowflakes did not come out as perfect as their friends.

Everyone, put your snowflake on the floor in the center of the room, I said sternly over the constant arguing.

The children got up and placed their paper on the floor.

Stand right here. Don’t move.

Come, you too, put yours here.

I don’t have one.

Why?

I messed up and threw it away.

Well, stand here too. Everyone, come join this very cold circle of snowflakes.

What do you see?

Snowflakes.

What else?

White.

Continue second grade.

Shapes! Diamonds! Triangles!

Anything else? Because I see a lot here. I see winter. chimneys. hot cocoa. marshmallows…

Ohhh, yeah! Meeee too Ms. Hurley! I see presents and a Christmas Tree.

Aww, and what do you see?

I see family and a lot of snowball fights….

Yes. Second grade. So we all can look at these snowflakes and see differently. They all look different because that is how it really looks in real life- different. And that’s how you are made, different. If everyone snowflake looked the same and everyone looked the same would we be truly living? What matters the most is we are created in this way and we bring our differences to the snowflake pile and appreciate them. Those of you who didn’t make one, even you were able to bring yourself and enjoy the snow with us. Next time though, don’t throw it away. Love it because it looks and is different.

Visit to the Bronx Museum

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A week before the children went to the Bronx Museum. I spoke to them about a possible visit.

We started off by first talking about pastels. I didn’t teach them the entire summer and by the time I joined the program, they were already used to drawing classes via youtube videos. The day I came, they were about to watch a you-tuber explain how to draw with pastels.

I used that as my opportunity to teach them about art history. I taught them how to appreciate spaces that showed art and artist who used either pastels or paint.

Three days before the trip to the museum, I introduced Jamal Shabazz and told them it was his work they were going to see. They watched Legendary Photographer: Honor and Dignity, a clip on youtube of Sahabazz talking about his work and his career. I also made sure they knew that he was inspired by someone they knew, Gordon Parks (a founder of the school they attended). This bit of information made them excited.

On the day of the trip, there was a great stir about whether I should take three little boys who were full of energy. They had a rough time following directions all morning. I made the decision to allow them to attend the trip after remembering how excited they were when they learned about Shabazz and how vital it was for them to see images of people who looked like them in a museum. It was their first time ever visiting a museum!

All 17 children and 5 adults arrived at the museum. We met our educator outside.

We were early and the educator seemed disorganized.

We stood at the museum main reading panel. I always instruct the children to read each panel in museums instead of just walking and looking. However, the educator, dissuade them. She begin to ramble about how long it was and how we didn’t really have to read it… At one point it was like she was begging us not to read it.

During the reading, even the three busy ones listened. The educator cut everyone off after the first paragraph and then escorted the children upstairs to an art room.

She gave everyone a drawing board and spoke in depth about pencils. She had everyone try different types and then lined everyone up and told them to take one pencils and their pad. Next, we returned to the Jamal Shabazz show and she had the group sit down and draw a photograph.

She waited and they drew. Finally, everyone did a show and share. Well, really, no one showed. And no one shared. She asked who drew each picture and then spoke about the pictures. Not really allowing the children to speak about the work.

Around this time, the children began to lose patience.

Next, she told the children to go look at the rest of the exhibit… to Find a photograph and draw it. We were the only ones in the museum and I didn’t stress noise level. I also didn’t give the children any rules of how to behave (outside the talk they were given before we left the school). As I usual, they waited for the educator to give more clear directions.

She didn’t give them three minutes to follow that instruction. She changed her mind.

Actually, let’s look at some of his work together. The younger ones no longer paid attention and continued to view what they had started looking at. Here is a mini video:

She ushered the group into another gallery and we went back upstairs.

Upstairs she told them they were going to use water color. She took out huge water color sheets and asked me if I thought they could share. I told her I wouldn’t mind cutting the sheets in halves so each student could have their own.

The students painted and we returned to the school.

Ms. Edwinda….again

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Ms. Edwina, what can I say?!

She is a force to reckon with.

I was walking in the Met when I noticed Ms. Edwina sitting on the bench in the Greek and Roman Art wing. She wasn’t doing much. Just watching people walk back and forth. It was a Friday and the place was packed with children.

I had just bumped into one of my former students, Syriana, who was roaming around with a summer camp decked out in purple tee’s.

Syriana! Is that you?

Hi Ms. Hurley!!!

I was surprised to see Syriana because I never saw someone who I knew in the Met. When I looked ahead and walked closer I couldn’t believe my eyes. Ms….Edwina?!

When I saw her, I waved excitedly. I couldn’t believe I ran into someone from my own community! Not only that, but an elder! Ms. Edwina (who I blogged about before) has the persona of Whoopi Goldberg and Oprah Winfrey. I met her while attending Fordham University. We crossed paths so much she started to talk to me. She would compliment me on my outfits and how I carried myself – every time she saw me. Which meant a lot. She didn’t know her words meant so much. She was always cheerful. She spoke with hugs and each hug went a long way.

Once we crossed paths and she complimented me on my black and white outfit – that I felt totally good in. She got to me before my secret crush got to me, who didn’t think I looked great at all. Funny, I can still remember his words.

Really, Lilly? I can’t believe you are even wearing that.

What do you mean, Really, Lilly? What’s wrong with my outfit?!

He stopped talking to me when I demanded what was the matter. Not that what he thought mattered anyway.

I sat next to Ms. Edwina.

Omg, what are you doing here?

I come every year, Child, to check out the Met Gala.

The Met Gala?

Yeah, The Met Gala. She looked me in the eye. Surly you know what the Met Gala is?

Yeah, I do. (I wasn’t about to say no- after she said, Surely you know…)I had clips of news paper images in my head. That was what knew of the Gala.

….Well, every year after the event is over, they showcase the outfits for the public to see. Did you see the exhibition?

No, I noticed the ad in the phamphet but never thought about seeing it myself.

You should go! It is so good!!

Okay, are you going back-

Nope. I am resting these here legs chile.

I sat beside her and asked if she saw any other exhibition. I had just gotten emotional in the Afro-futuristic Period Room and wanted someone to share my sentiment with. But she hadn’t.

She continued, I walked into a wrong room by mistake!!

Oh, which room was that?

Her response was so funny, I asked her if I could record it it share with you!