Earlier today, I was sitting comfy-like in the Belmont Library, a happy ten minute walk from my condo. How marvelous that I can walk to all these places – the Belmont Town Restaurant, the Dairystore convenience store, my massage therapist, Jody’s bench at the post office, the Belmont Diner, the gorgeous village park with pond and fountain, and the Barking Cat pub. Wow!
But today was the library. I wrote a blog post and was tickled pink to send it into the cyber universe. As I revelled in my deed, a boy walked in, seeking a book on hold. I looked at him. I thought he was young enough to be going to South Dorchester Elementary School, where I’m hoping to volunteer.
Do I leave him alone or ask him the question? Feeling fairly intrusive, I asked if he went to South Dorchester. Yes. “Do you like your school?” Yes again. And the conversation evolved. Just him and me talking level – nothing about adult and child. He told me there were no men at the school and that he hoped I’ll show up there. Me too.
The young man communicated beautifully, and my love of conversation with kids flooded back. He spoke with soul, so wondrous coming from a young person. One of his comments, however, sounded like a stereotype and I mentioned that. In response, he didn’t grump – he listened. So fine.
I’m happy. I get to be with kids again. Maybe I can set up a floor hockey league. Maybe I can help them with their reading and math. But the content doesn’t matter. The context does.