The school's philosophy was explained to me as "place based education". Meaning education about math and science and language and everything is inspired by the place- maybe the classroom, or the school, or the neighborhood, or the city, or the state, or the world... but learning happens for a reason and it has a connection.
The women were friendly- talking to everyone. I took a flier- never anticipating I'd hold on to it. I was afraid to even ask if they'd take my son because rejection was all too recent. I wanted to be able to promote the school to friends- and if I knew they wouldn't take my son, I'd never support it. That's the thing about Bentley that many don't understand... when you reject my son, you reject this deep part of this self- me. The part of me that carried him and birthed him and is working on raising him... and no rejection of him- whether I can explain it or not- is gonna be OK with me. You take him or you take none of us- that's just how I am.
Eventually I mustered up the courage to ask if the school would accept children with disabilities. "Absolutely." I think my heart dropped into the depths of the earth. In fact- I was so unsure of their words I didn't actually enroll him until several weeks later- a week before school. There are empty words in the world- and these words- they must be empty.
The rest of the story is documented- it's on video and audio and pages on pages of reflection. Those words- they were not empty. They were full of truth. The kind of truth that changes you- every part of you.
So today. Today was a day to write about in the books. Grace Lee Boggs turns 100 years old on Saturday. So today they had a celebration at the school to honor Grace. Many shared stories of how they met Grace or how even if they hadn't- how she has inspired them. It was the kind of afternoon I wish I would've recorded so I could replay it in my head over and over again.
The Boggs school is all about community. Not the kind of fabricated community we choose for ourselves so we don't have to deal with conflict or challenges. Oh no- the kind of community that sees a person at the door and recognizes their place. It's comfortable to turn people away or to not be friends with those who think or believe or act differently than we would. But is it right? Who should we avoid and who should we love? And is avoiding people the answer? Bentley costs the school money and time resources and energy- but should he be denied access? And what does he offer? Does he offer joy and love and simplicity and love? And kids with behavioral problems from neglectful or abusive or painful homes or life stories- should they be turned away? Or should the community figure out a way to embrace them? Grace Lee Boggs recommended you ask at least 10 people the answer to your question-then go back to the question and continue to reflect on it. It's not always about answers- but it is about change- and it's about collaboration and hearing others and their ideas.
Questions were asked.... what is the role of the school in a community? How do the two interact with one another? What does the school expect from the community and what does the community expect from the school?
I've been in Detroit for 7 years and I have seen a lot. Parts of the city are changing drastically. But what I saw today was decades of stories I don't have a clue about. Programs and friendships and dreams that go back far before I ever cared about schools and change and Detroit. The dream of having the Boggs School far exceeds my time here- and yet it was at the perfect time that it started and my son needed a school. We needed each other.
I know that Bentley impacted the staff and students at the Boggs School- forcing everyone to confront their beliefs about education and people. I know that the confrontation was pure and right. I also know his effect on the school will outlive our time here. He will be remembered. I know this. But I also know that the school impacted me. My beliefs about myself, my family, my son, and how I see education are changing. You see- Bentley and Clayton were accepted into the elementary school closest to our home (though not the assigned school according to our address) yesterday. After months of prayer and agony and conversations we decided to go for the local school. The local school may not have all the things I had imagined a school my children attend having- nor does it have even a glimpse of the love, sweat and tears that the Boggs School has- but it has kids from our new community. It has walls and books and teachers and staff and it has hope. God- I pray it has hope. Hope to grow kids into adults who know and care and love.
So the beauty of today was so much more than a celebration of a century of one woman's life- but it was also the celebration of moving forward. I was surrounded by activists and dreamers and leaders today. People who hear your story and encourage you to not stop- never give up- but to push for what is right. The kind of group that makes you feel like you're leaving with a super hero cape and their hand prints all over it saying, "Go and change." And when I look back with a timid soul and fearful eyes they're smiling at me- the kind of smile I'm gonna offer my two boys on the first day of school that says, "You've got this. You already have what you need. And what you don't have- well you're about to learn it."
And so it is.... the tattoo on my heart that the Boggs school staff has given me that will give me and remind me and help me- as we go forth-
Thank you, you'll never know how much.
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