They are determined.
One by one
And I’m a salmon
hurrying to class in the midst of the bus melee, banking the most direct path between the meandering energy of kids, K-12, jetsam and flotsam, all sizes and shapes making their (mostly) unhurried ways to class.
We are one, in the stream of life.
I’m distracted, mind on our first block and how best to tweak the math slides. No time to appreciate the manicured botanical garden that punctuates my way to class, koi pond and sculptures both leafy green and stone gray.
Gotta check in about that lesson
And that meeting after school
Just another morning.
No time to slow down.
In the midst of mental planning, I glance to my right
And my reverie of adultism, of plans and processes, is interrupted
By the first of four tiny humans, stepping off the manicured garden path.
Teacher voice creeps to the back of my throat, and I want to shout over at them to step off
Girls, get to class please
But I see the stone turtle they are approaching with reverence,
and something about their pace, their solemn demeanor
forces me to catch myself.
There’s something to the way her three friends stand, at attention. Waiting.
Three statues surrounding a fourth, observing as she precariously, nimbly, gracefully balances on the large stone and reaches over, arm outstretched.
And plants her palm on the head of the patient guardian.
She holds it there, a gentle touch, summoning power, grace, goodness
wisdom
turtle power, passed along generations,
for her day.
And, amidst my harrying,
I stop,
Stand
Distant witness to this not so secret secret ritual, shared among four friends.
One by one, each of them balances adeptly, and shares a gentle touch. One by one, each waits and bears witness to the other. One by one, their day is officially begun.
It is said that, in Vietnam, the turtle symbolizes (among others) four qualities: determination, longevity, wisdom, and power.
And, as I watch these four young humans adjourn their morning meeting and amble on their way
I wonder which one is which
Get Up Eight 
how beautiful. and I followed along in the play by play lines of the rushing and reframing. Cheers to March, thanks for sharing 🙂
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The metaphor of teacher/students in the melee as salmon is so powerful. Also in the sense of how you as teacher have a different goal than students, but you are both in the same place.
Your ability, through writing, to slow down time and zone in onto the students is a gift. The comparison of the turtle’s Vietnamese symbols coincide with number of students; and you close the image with us as the reader wondering.
Great slice.
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Such great craft. Your hurry was matched in your writing and it all came to a slow halt as the students admired the turtle. Beautiful.
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