handstories

"This is more fun than I thought it would be!", said a stitching 5th grader.

    The Underground Railroad stitching is in full swing.  The camera has come along every day, but there have been very few opportunities to use it.  Ms. T., the art teacher, and I are on our own, and really missing the extra grown-up hands we had last year.

    The students are doing great, happily stitching along, their needles "diving down and coming up for air" (the weaving lingo Ms. T. applied to stitching).  I just love seeing their hands in action, and calling proudly across the room, "Ms. M., Look!" as they hold up their work. 

    They each made a gel print with stencils of forest, fauna or stars to symbolize the woods or sky, where the runaways hid and traveled through, or looked to for direction.  Above they chose a "sky" fabric, where they will eventually stitch a message.  The piece below represents the ground or the Ohio River that many crossed on their journey to freedom.

    And, Jude, I did ask them what the pages of their stories would be made of? (see Jude's post here.)  There were several video games, basketballs, and soccer fields, but there was also cloth, yarn, paper, markers, candy and cardboard replies.

connecting stories

    Yesterday I shared the Harriet Tubman quilt with the fifth graders. (click on the "Harriet Tubman" category below to read about the quilt & last year's 5th grade project.) We've been telling them stories about heroes of the Underground Railroad - Harriet Tubman, Henry Brown (who thought outside of the box by mailing himself inside of a box to freedom), Eliza (who stepped across the frozen Ohio River, babe in arms to escape slavery), and others.  

    We talked about why we tell stories- stories of heroes and our own stories.  Heroes- so that we can remember and emulate them.  Our own - to know, remember, and reflect on the choices we make.  I said to them, "Harriet did not have an easy childhood, she was not treated fairly or kindly, but she made choices to rise above, to do better, and to help others.  She took control of her story and helped others with theirs.  We get to make choices, too.  We may or may not be able to save three hundred others, but we can make the very best choices for ourselves.  We can make a difference.  We can do good."

    At this point one boy raised his hand,  "We can make a difference right now.  We don't have to wait until we grow up."  

    This boy.  This boy has not been making good choices for himself or for others.  He has been unkind and behaved in bully like ways.  

    I looked at him straight in the eyes, "That's right.  Every act you do, every word out of your mouth is a choice to make things better or worse.  It's up to you what your story will be."

    Later, during math, he was screwing around, not trying.  After sending him to a new solitary space, I went over and sat down.  "Look at me.  You are a smart beautiful boy . . . Look at me.  You are so smart.  I have seen it.  But you are not taking care of yourself, or those around you.   I am so sad that you are not making smart choices for you, you deserve better.  You deserve the best.  Make the very best choices for yourself.  Take care of you and those around you.  You can have an amazing story."  His head was ducked down again, I figured I had probably gone on too long and stopped, and then I saw a tear fall down his face.  

    Oh, I hope for him, and his story.

 

how much can stitching do?

    Wondering that if I keep weaving into "uncertainty" will there be a better understanding of the layers of it all, or am I just muddling up the possibility of clarity even more?

    What I pondered today while stitching-  We're about to start talking about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad and stitching with the fifth graders again (to see what we did last year click on the "Harriet Tubman" category below).  Last year we hoped to share the importance of telling their stories, and how art is a way of doing just that.  While talking with their teachers today, about recent situations in the classroom, another thought came- the importance of children understanding that not only do they need to be able to tell their own stories, but also that they get to have a voice in what that story is, and what role they play in it.  I hope that by sharing about Harriet's life, they might grab hold of the idea of becoming their own heroes.  

celebrities

        Can you identify the celebrities in the photo?  No, it's not the man in the suit, that's just the mayor of Seattle.  They are the children, who are sharing their Underground Railroad quilt squares and stories with him.   The squares were on display at City Hall for an event put on by the Seattle Office of Arts & Culture.   Moon and other fifth graders were wonderful docents for their work.  They eloquently shared their art work  and how it reflected the stories of Harriet and the Underground Railroad.  Many people commented on how much they learned from them.   

    Here's Moon educating the mayor.  He was so excited, afterwards he asked a friend to pinch him, to see if it was all real.

    None of this would have been possible with out our amazing art teacher.   She is one of the passionate dedicated educators I've been able to get to know at Moon's new school.  I am learning so much from her.  She puts her heart and energy into teaching these children, trying to help them find their voices and life skills through art, and into enlightening the community on the importance of art integration in education.  It has been such a gift to be able to work with her on this project, and to find a kindred spirit.  Thank you, Ms. T!

seeing themselves as artists

    Celebrations can be within and in crowds, I think both happened yesterday.

    They were asked to reflect on the sewing process, what they know about it now.  Here is some of their advice . . .

    "Pick the cloths you like . . . put time and effort in the quilt . . . don't poke yourself . . . try hard . . . try your best . . . you have to be calm . . . it doesn't have to be perfect, have fun! . . . do the running man sewing (the running stitch) . . . make sure your quilt has a message . . . never give up, have perseverance . . . it may seem like yours looks terrible, but it will look great in the end . . . never say you can't do this . . . be happy!"

     This school is an amazing place, a school full of passionate teachers who work very hard, with very little, to do what they can for children, many with heartbreaking stories.   I came thinking about what I could give, but watching them see the finished display, and finding themselves within in it . . . I don't have words for what I have received.

signs of freedom

    The nine-patches are almost all finished.  I had pinned sixteen of them together so that they could have an idea of what it will look like when all eighty are displayed.  "We made that?!"  "It looks so real!"  I love how proud they are of themselves.

    A Drinking Gourd, runaways would follow the North Star in the Big Dipper (Drinking Gourd) to freedom.

    The North Star above the Ohio River, which runaways would often cross in their journey.

    "brave"

    Flames of fire, to keep the runaways warm while hiding in the woods.

        Another Drinking Gourd with a shining North Star.  This one is Moon's, he hopes you'll notice that the lower fabrics are duller, and that once you cross the river of blue squares, the top is brighter with freedom.

it's a small something

    These stitches and patches belong to a fifth grade boy who is a charmer.  He is also often in trouble at school,  but I think, even more, he is troubled by what is going on in his life outside of school.

    I was reading to his class at library time on Thursday.   There was a short sentence about sewing doll clothes, nothing significant to the story, just a moment.  Sitting in the back row, where he is often distracted and fiddling around, he raised his hand.

    "Ms. Monte!  We know how to sew!  They're sewing in the book, and we're sewing . . . we're all sewing!"

    Yes, we are.  

I am . . .

      . . . running in circles, trying to get people what they need, where they need it, where they need to be, etc.

        . . . feeling a little out of balance and unfocused, but that may just be the pollen in my head.

     . . . still sewing the nine-patches with the fifth graders, at the quilting stage for most of them.

     . . . so glad to have been able to do this for this group of children, many with such stories that would break your heart.

    . . . stitching on.

progress report

    I'm tired, there is much going on, but it's mostly a good kind of tired.  

    They've begun stitching their nine-patches, most of them with enthusiasm.  (Though one boy, when asked if it was his first time sewing, replied, "First, and LAST."  Ha!)

    I bring home their stitching each night, make sure they're on track, try to get them pinned to go, with a threaded needle for the next day, thread all the extra needles, etc.  This weekend there are eighty plus pieces of batting and backing fabric to cut out. 

    Last night, noticing my own untouched piles of fiber, I announced, "I haven't done any stitching all week!".   Moon yelled, "Mom!  It's all you've done!"  

A quilt for Harriet

    This is my "Harriet Tubman:  Many Thousand Gone" quilt.  In the spring of 1996, Janie and I were teaching our Pre-K class about the Underground Railroad.  Together with a parent in the class and the children we created an Underground Railroad quilt.  That quilt still hangs at the school.  That summer Janie and I made our own versions.

    The central image of Harriet was inspired by this illustration by Leo and Diane Dillon, from the wonderful book Many Thousand Gone:  African Americans From Slavery to Freedom by Virginia Hamilton.

    From the book . . . "Harriet carried a pistol at all times . . . If the runaways she led were too fearful and wanted to turn back, she would point her pistol at them.  "You go or you die," she would say.  None ever died.  "I never run my train off the track.""

    There are three hundred buttons representing the more than three hundred people Harriet led to freedom in the north.

    I began making the flying geese blocks, thinking they would aim toward the northern sky.  After a while I was tired of making them, counted them, there were nineteen.  She made nineteen trips south to save others.  They point south now.

    And there's the "water" with our footprints in it- the Ohio River, where they crossed to freedom.

    "Safe houses" that comforted and cared for those running for freedom.  This one was made by Janie's daughter, who was in our class that year.  A whippoorwill for the calls Harriet would send out from the woods, letting the slaves know she had come for them.

    A fifth grader designed this block of Harriet's face, wearing her bandana.  

    Harriet Tubman spent her life working hard, doing good- Underground Railroad conductor, nurse, spy, caretaker for the old and indigent . . . a hero... a human being.