The Rose Bead
On Halloween Eve I was, as usual, madly finishing my costume. Stores were completely emptied of Halloween jewelry so it was on to the local craft store. At about 9 PM I was sitting at the table in my study with hundreds of little beads of all colors spread out before me, the elastic to string them off to the side. The goal was black, orange, silver and gold beaded bracelets and earrings. Sorting, it was easy to ignore the blue and green beads. The rose beads were trickier. I tried so carefully to sift them out. In their tiny size and shine they looked too close to the orange beads…not acceptable for a Halloween bracelet. Four bracelets and two earrings later the mission was accomplished. I even double-checked.
Halloween dawned a glorious day, filled with all the fun of pretending to be someone else for a brief time, watching children proudly parade, and relishing the creativity and joy in the frivolity that too often get buried underneath the routines. That is for another writing.
Driving home, arm resting on the open car window, the sun brought out the sparkle of the beads. All of a sudden I noticed it…that one rose colored bead, gleaming at me. My first instinct was disappointment with myself for not having caught it the night before and for the rose bead tainting the Halloween theme. It was my “everything has to be perfectly so” voice and annoyance that I had missed the mark. It wasn’t perfectly so. Had anyone noticed that one little rose bead that didn’t fit?
That “perfectly so” voice rises up all the time and it both is and isn’t me. It is me because it is an ingrained product of my own schooling and the questions, “Did I do it right? Will this bracelet get an A?” There is nothing wrong with wanting to do things well, even wanting to do them perfectly once in a while. But my truth is that A’s were few and far between and ultimately I have come to realize that for me they were not necessarily the right criteria. What I truly love is ”quirky,” “different,” “unique,” and even “imperfect” and I know in my heart that many of my teachers missed hearing what I thought because it didn’t fit the “right answer.”
The more I looked at the bracelet and thought about it, the more the other real me came out. I loved that little rose bead making it different than the usual Halloween jewelry. It gave the bracelet its own mark and a unique sparkle. Next year I might even be sure to put something non-traditional in on purpose.
It made me think about the children I am with each day and the little rose bead that each one most likely has, discovered and sparkling, or perhaps still unnoticed. I want to be absolutely certain (yes, in this I want to be “perfectly so”) that children whose lives I touch know their rose bead is just fine. It is better than fine. It gives them a beautiful, unique design. And who is to say there can’t be two or three?
November 1st, 2007 at 8:45 pm
Wow! Really… Were you a writer in another life? I mean this in all seriousness: Would you talk to the sixth grade students about your inspiration for this post? Your ideas and the way in which you used storytelling (making the costume) and the analogy of children’s differences is rich and I know that other readers will agree. Please consider this request- not this week or the next because I know that you are busy with progress reports. Maybe not the week after that. Perhaps “sometime.”
So, let me add a bit of reflection to this comment… Throughout my life, I have felt like the “rose-colored bead” in some respects. It took the discerning eye of a sixth grade teacher, SK at Lovett, for me to realize that my differences might be my strength. To some extent, I am still waiting for some of the “important people” in my life to see that glimmer that this special teacher recognized.
Honestly, I have written and re-written this comment to the point that I am not sure what else to say. Just know that I understand what you are saying.
November 5th, 2007 at 10:27 am
Dawn, I agree with what Willy has written! This is a wonderful post. As a Kindergarten teacher, I always made it my priority to recognize the “rose bead” in all of my students, just as Willy’s teacher at Lovett did. Not only does it make the students feel like they are special, but it makes the teacher’s days and years unlike any that came before. As a Technology Specialist, I have a unique opportunity to find some “rose beads” in the computer lab that might not be spotted in her or his individual classrooms.
November 5th, 2007 at 6:29 pm
Wow, Dawn…I didn’t realize what a blogger you are! You may even give the sixth graders a run for their money! Per Willy’s comment, I would love for you to come talk to our kids. Not only about this post but more importantly, because so many of them need to hear this message. In our society, neighborhood, school…it’s easy thinking that that those rose beads need to be removed, hid, concealed. You got me thinking of ways to illuminate this message in my classroom on a daily basis. Thank you.
November 8th, 2007 at 2:45 pm
[...] one of the titles caught my eye. Ms. Pile, our ELD coordinator, recently wrote a post called The Rose Bead. The title caught my eye because it was not about blogs or wikis or an academic subject, and [...]
November 9th, 2007 at 9:20 pm
I have to admit that I agree with the many posts here — but I am not surprised at your eloquence. You speak beautifully, think beautifully, and you have an amazing dedication to children — how could you not craft gracious prose that reveals the depth of your insight.
The “odd man out” reminds me of a favorite book you may have read: “Totto Chan.” Totto Chan was a little girl in Japan who never quite fit in — until she found a special school where each child’s individual spirit was not just accepted – it was celebrated. Because of her education there, this quirky little girl was able to become herself, and grow up to become a generous and important entertainer and politician loved deeply throughout Japan. She took her strangeness, and made it part of her genius and her talent.
So – thank you for a stunning piece of writing that reminds us all: it is our strange little quirk that can be the seed — or the bead — of our budding and successful selves.
November 14th, 2007 at 3:51 pm
Wow……..as the mother of two rose beads…..(out of 3 children)…..I need to read this daily………so that I can remember to let them be rose colored, and thererfor themselves….and not the perfect “soes” that I and the outside world sometimes expect them to be!