A bookmark and a smile
There’s a group at my son’s school called Friends of Rachel. It is dedicated to promoting kindness and compassion among students. They ask you to take Rachel’s challenge, simply by accepting a bookmark and signing a huge banner. You see, this Rachel of Friends of Rachel was Rachel Scott, one of the students killed at Columbine High School. It’s a great program – and a nice group of kids. They want to start a “chain reaction.” Nothing bad about that.
So when a big-smiled girl flagged me down, I stopped. I took the book mark and I signed the banner. And then because I was early, I stood a little bit away from them waiting to go into Physics. And I watched and listened.
I’d say that 80% of the PARENTS (this was a night without students) said No. They were all rushing off to their own Physics or English or Chemistry or Spanish classes. The shook their heads like these students were trying to sell them something instead of trying to give them something.
After a while the same girl whom had gotten my attention looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. I said, “You’re doing a good job, don’t worry, it’s not you.” She smiled. “They are just busy, you know, we’re just parents trying to get to our kids classes, they don’t realize what you’re saying.” She nodded. And while some parents stopped amidst the masses (it’s a school with 3000 students, so there are a lot parents) most did not even slow their stride.
And they are the ones who missed out.
But the girl never stopped trying — or smiling — because she knew she had something to offer.
The same is true when you’re writing. You know you have something to say that’s worthwhile. You have a message — or a story — and it’s a good one. Many people will not pay attention. Actually, most people won’t pay attention.
But you have to be persistent and keep a smile on your face and in your heart. You have to believe that you will make someone stop and listen — because if you don’t believe it, no one else will either.
By the time I emerged from Physics and headed back down the hallway for my eight-minute walk to English, the girl was still there, talking to parents, handing out bookmarks — or trying to.
And she was still smiling.
Amy,
yesterday was pure futility. I decided to walk away from words for good, and never write another story, EVER! The despair of rejection slips in the mail box and the enormous brick wall they represent can be so overwhelming. I understand sales and marketing and bottom lines, but sometimes I don’t believe I will ever scale that wall. It’s too tall, I’m too small, too poor, too old etc. Maybe you are right. Maybe my daughter and husband are right. Thanks for this post, it’s been a nudge in the writing ribs, right when I needed it.
This made me cry. You made the scene come to life for me.
Yes, Amy….it’s me , Chris.
Great article.
I write for me. It is a way for me to purge the “braincrap”. Much easier to just put it all out there.
I don’t look for comma’s, run on sentences, etc. I just write and it has helped me live with the times in my life that have been close to unbearable. It is just for me. I’m not looking for readership, ads, and approval. It just is.
I do love how you write.
I realize that you write because you are good at it. It shows.
I don’t think you even realize that sometimes you do write for “us”, for me, you have a way of saying things that I can only think about.
I miss your blog. I have found you here, nothing is changed. I still love your writing and I am waiting for that book. I will be in line to have it signed!!!
What a beautiful story. May you and that teenager stay determined!
kristen @ http://www.thefamilythatreadstogether.blogspot.com
I came upon your website by “accident” and read this post.
It’s wonderful — thank you for writing it.