Story 3: Solomon and The Red Balloon

Solomon and the Red Balloon

MaryAnn F. Kohl
* photo caption:
 Lummi nation - child, dancer.
 Name of child not listed.
 
My kindergarten class had just watched the French film, The Red Balloon, a touching and beautifully rendered wordless children's classic. Our class was preparing for recess when Solomon Toby, a brown-eyed Native American boy, approached me requesting a private word.
"Mrs. Kohl," he said in a whisper, "I need to draw about that movie."
My heart rate buzzed. "Of course, you do," I smiled gently. This beautiful child, Solomon with the dark eyes and hair like the feathers of a crow, rarely expressed any interest in school activities or projects of any kind, and had not bonded with me, though I had reached out to him daily. My thoughts were racing to capture this moment with Solomon, to allow it to be meaningful for him, to tread gently so that it might be a possible springboard for future opportunities for learning and communication.
I excused the others to the playground and helped Solomon find a large fresh sheet of drawing paper and a box of unbroken crayons with the points still intact. He packed everything off to the reading corner tent to work alone.
As he worked, I reflected on this silent child. Solomon usually chose fighting over playing, and generally lived a pretty tough life which he acted out on a daily basis. But today, The Red Balloon had touched his heart and he couldn't keep his feelings inside.
I could see him through the entry of the tent. He was working with purpose, elbow and arm moving resolutely across the wide paper, filling it with visual expressions from his heart. He drew about the story of the Red Balloon who befriends a little boy, and about how that little boy loses his friend. He drew and drew.
His drawing was not the blonde French child in the film; it was a brown, strong boy running on a rocky beach with a huge red smiling balloon in tow on a heavy rope, a rope that would never come untied or let a balloon break free. The clouds he drew were gray with rays of sunlight spilling out from behind. The sea breaking on the shore was choppy with two fish jumping, smiles on their silvery faces. The boy was running with a look of surprise and joy on his crayoned face. I could tell that this boy would never let his balloon go, would never lose his gentle friend.
When the drawing was finished, I saw Solomon start to cry. He cried silently, shoulders shaking, tears spilling down his smooth cheeks. I did not interrupt his privacy but waited nearby anxious to soothe his hurts.
When he left his drawing in the tent and walked towards me, I knew I was being allowed a rare gift in this child’s young life. As he approached, I scrunched down to his five year old level as he threw his arms around my neck, hugging me close to him, crying quietly until the sniffling began to subside. I remember thinking, “I will make a difference to this child. We can build from this together. We’re going to make it this one year we have together. Together, we’re going to make it.”
As the other children returned from recess, Solomon and I gathered up his drawing and supplies, but neither of us was the same. We had begun.

Comments

[Emmalina]

this story brought me to tears, thank you for sharing it. I do hope that little boy went on to have a happier time.

[Linda Woods]

Very touching story. I remember a boy that I taught a long time ago who moved me very much through a drawing he did, and proved to me that we can never fully know any child's motivations and deepest thoughts unless if they decide to "let us in." I had started a new project, drawing a crowd of people, all with different hair, clothes, body positions, and so on. They were to use overlapping, and create a reason for these people to all be together in the same drawing, no matter how realistic or far fetched the reason, just have fun with it. This boy, Peter, looked at me after I had gotten everyone started. I had great expectations for the drawing assignment and looked forward to creativity, detail, and risk taking from the class as they worked through the assignment. Peter looked up at me with soft eyes, and quietly said, "Can I just draw one person?" I said, "Sure! That's a great start, and then you can add more after that!" I ASSUMED that he was either feeling a bit lazy or that he didn't think he could handle the assignment for some reason. I wanted to cajole him through it and eventually get him on board for the assignment. Peter sighed, and said, "Well, my grandmother just died yesterday, and I just want to draw her." Ok. Reality check time. I was stunned by my assumption.and the simple but totally real life reason he wanted to do something that sounded much easier and less challenging than the assignment. Of course, I told him to draw his grandmother, and to take all the time he wanted to do it. He was a second grader. He worked so hard on it, drew her sitting down in a chair in a flowered dress with a big smile on her face, worked hard on all of her features, really took his time. We do NOT ever know what their motivations are unless if we ask them or they "let us in" and tell us. We can obviously assume way too much! I'll never forget Peter drawing his grandmother, as it was one of the most authentic drawings ever to happen in my classroom. The memory of it has guided me for years. I'd love to follow this and hear if there are more encounters with this Red Balloon loving child in store for you. I'm betting that will be the case.

From MaryAnn: I haven't seen Solomon for many years. I keep an eye out for him. He was incredibly handsome back then and I'm sure he is still. I will have to ask around the Res and see if anyone knows where he is.

And your story touched me as well. So often we are in such a hurry, and here's this child just filled with his own reality ... we have to stay open, don't we? I'm so glad he told you what was on his mind, and that you were receptive...

[Whispering Eagle]

With tears running down my face, there aren't words to express what broke through in this child's heart, by the way of a movie. People, movies, plays, we never know what will impact our lives, or other peoples lives, as we travel our paths on this earth. We must always strive to be a good Christian example for others as we go through this life.

From MaryAnn: I'm glad the story touched you... as it touches me each time I read it. It's a reminder to each teacher to provide a wealth of experiences so that all children may be reached in a way that will matter most. Thank you for caring!
~MaryAnn