My students are making "get well" cards for my mom back in Georgia. It was a total nice-off in here.
"I'm gonna make her the nicest card." "No, mine's gonna be nicer. It'll make her feel all better."
My favorites are the ones that over-explain. "This is a picture of your mom. I drew her knee looking blown up since the doctor cut off her leg and put her knee back together. It is all blue and hurt but it will be better soon because the doctor fixed it."
"I'm going to use these scissors so she knows I'm making a fancy card."
"Can we go give the letters to the post man so he can bring it to the truck and they will take it to Georgia from Colorado?"
I made your mom a card because I love you, Miss G. and she loves you because you're her daughter and mommies love their daughters.
Aww.
Showing posts with label letters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label letters. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
9-21-11, A Teacher's lessons from Troy Davis
On behalf of Georgians...I apologize, Troy. Our great state with its motto of Wisdom, Justice, and Moderation has been unwise, unjust, and has moderated your life for far too long...
In 2007, as a student at Agnes Scott, Amnesty International wrote letters to Troy and on behalf of Troy to members of Congress, State Board of Pardons and Parole, and the governor.
By Christmas, I found a letter in my on-campus mail box postmarked Jackson, GA. Troy had personally written me (and Agnes Amnesty) back. He spoke of hope. He spoke of justice. His penmanship is excellent.
In 2008, Troy's case was up. He was set to be executed unless clemency occurred. I taught high school and I both beamed and grimaced as my juniors pulled out cell phones to barage the Board of Pardons and Parole with phone calls. They waited on hold and left messages, they told their friends and families to call too.
That day, 16 and 17-year-old (babies!) signed their names to official typed letters too. These children tasted activism at an age not much younger than Troy when he felt the bonds of conviction.
It's 2011 and those 16 and 17 year olds have lived freely longer than Troy did. An Amnesty Candle's light has been snuffed out. Thousands have posted, protested, called, marched, tweeted-- gotten involved. Black, white, young, old: Troy, you united us.
Tonight, two mothers weep for lost sons. An activism lesson has been taught and an exercise in justice has been witnessed.
I only wish this were a lesson we needed to learn.
In 2007, as a student at Agnes Scott, Amnesty International wrote letters to Troy and on behalf of Troy to members of Congress, State Board of Pardons and Parole, and the governor.
By Christmas, I found a letter in my on-campus mail box postmarked Jackson, GA. Troy had personally written me (and Agnes Amnesty) back. He spoke of hope. He spoke of justice. His penmanship is excellent.
In 2008, Troy's case was up. He was set to be executed unless clemency occurred. I taught high school and I both beamed and grimaced as my juniors pulled out cell phones to barage the Board of Pardons and Parole with phone calls. They waited on hold and left messages, they told their friends and families to call too.
That day, 16 and 17-year-old (babies!) signed their names to official typed letters too. These children tasted activism at an age not much younger than Troy when he felt the bonds of conviction.
It's 2011 and those 16 and 17 year olds have lived freely longer than Troy did. An Amnesty Candle's light has been snuffed out. Thousands have posted, protested, called, marched, tweeted-- gotten involved. Black, white, young, old: Troy, you united us.
Tonight, two mothers weep for lost sons. An activism lesson has been taught and an exercise in justice has been witnessed.
I only wish this were a lesson we needed to learn.
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