That is a Great Shirt

I'm at school in a 1st grade classroom and this is my third different class of the week. The first day was a juvie 5th grade class that has maybe never seen the light inside a flower, or known a freshly baked good, or known the love from hugging someone all clean just out of the shower. This was the kick the ball into the street and then say we have no ball now group. Then I did 3 hours in a preschool class where all their hands felt like the backs of baby deer, and the little boys held hands on the way to the bathroom, and we all dressed up like veterinarians and checked the heartbeats on stuffed animals.

But now, 3rd day, this little 1st grade class where the kids are writing a sentence about the book we read, and drawing a picture. And I'm so tired and it's only like 9 am, and I'm walking around to help "inspire" the ones not doing anything to get to work, and I pass one little person who looks up at me all shiny. "I'm so happy," she whispers, "Because I finally drew my first perfect shirt."

I instantly know this will be the best part of my day. I look at her little drawing and there's a funny little guy and another person, and she's showing me the shirt and it's terrible, she's 6, but I love that moment when you feel like for ONE second you did something right. And she musta been trying for at least TWO YEARS.

That is a great shirt, I tell her. Her eyes are so incredibly gleamy proud I say, I'm gonna draw a star on your paper, for your perfect shirt.

I draw the star lopsided, messily, the best I can and she holds her breath like she's getting a million dollars.

And I'm not even her real teacher, just the fake one. I don't know her name either, she's just one of the faces I meet, in the sea of babies. It made me feel like it doesn't matter, who sees your shirt you made, or if it even is perfect. It's knowing how you feel, and telling someone else about it.