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"A first sentence is all it takes to get the story going. Just start writing and see where it goes," suggested Mrs. Mowry as she handed out the composition notebooks. Some of her students eagerly grasped them, while others reluctantly dropped it on their desk. With a shuffle they each pulled out their pencil cases, although Charlie already had his half-chewed pencil in hand.
The classroom was especially cheerfully decorated, from the colored pin boards hanging on the walls to the beanbags in the reading corner. Even the chairs the children sat on were varying shades of blue. Some of the students were shifting in them, mostly out of anxiety or excitement.
"Mrs. Mowry, do we need to write in pencil?" asked one of the younger girls, Alicia. Her utensils of choice were falling out of their case in a myriad of colors.
"So long as I can read it you can use whatever you want." The teacher smiled as the girl excitedly picked up a bright blue pen, and then a green one. "But I do recommend one color at a time."
♥♥♥♥♥♥ My continuation ♥♥♥♥♥♥
Some of the students simply looked at the composition notebook as if they had to perform surgery without any kind of experience, they were stressed and wishing someone would tell them how to start the story, they looked from one side to the other looking for their own inspiration or perhaps plagiarizing the idea of a classmate.
Joshue observed his classmates writing their stories so placidly and he couldn't think of anything, he was aware that literature was not one of his virtues, however at his young age he enjoyed everything related to mathematics, so in the end he decided to write about a child who lived in a world of numbers and algebraic operations.
Charlie looked at the sky through the window that faced right next to his school desk, he imagined stories according to the figure he observed in the clouds: a superhero cat that rescued defenseless cats from the barking and danger of the villainous dogs; dragons throwing fire and frightening the inhabitants of a small village; magic goblins sliding through a rainbow. So Charlie spent it immersed in his own fantasy world, while occasionally chewing his pencil.
Alicia wrote about a multicolored butterfly that spread love everywhere she visited, her notebook looked extremely colorful Alicia style, always extrovert and infinitely funny.
Samuel was characterized by his fascination with music, writing a story where musical instruments could speak and teach people how to play them perfectly, and even the breeze in that world was a musical whisper.
Mrs. Mowry got up from her seat and began to observe the work of her students, slowly strolling through the rows of school desks, most of the stories had illustrations, drawings that were very colourful and full of grace.
Leonel enthusiastically showed the teacher the drawing he had made as the cover of his story, a rabbit on a flying squirrel, "Beautiful drawing Leonel, you've got a lot of imagination."
The purpose of the activity was to detect some psychologically unstable situation in the student and thus be able to help the student through the specialists of the institution, to improve the student's quality of life and their coexistence with others, of course with the support of your representative.
Susianny began to cry when she saw the teacher approach, "Why are you crying, darling?" Mrs. Mowry asked as she observed that the student's composition notebook was scratched, whirlwind stripes, horizontal and vertical, and all in black.
"I can't think of anything teacher," replied Susianny as she wiped her tears.
"Calm down my girl, write anything, whatever comes to mind, come on you can" with her loving voice the teacher spoke to the girl "By the way do not erase anything you have done so far, ok Susianny" "ok teacher".
"Mrs. Mowry, I'm done. Where do I put the story?" Ashley asked.
"I will tell you when to leave your composition notebook on my desk, please don't get up from your seats," replied the teacher.
Already in the penultimate row of school desks, the teacher was perplexed by Adolfo's drawing as the cover of his story, was a boy with a knife in his right hand and in the other hand held a cat by the neck, approached him and caressed his head with much sadness and deep pain, thinking what events in Adolf's life could have led him to such a drawing?
The last row of school desks the teacher still had to walk through was next to the windows and had a beautiful view: trees, flowers and a bright blue sky. The teacher looked at Charlie's notebook, totally white, not a line, not a doodle, and he only saw the landscape in front of the window.
Mrs. Mowry was aware of the special condition of Charlie "Asperger", he was a bright boy, his IQ was above normal, only you had to know how to talk to him and give him clear guidelines of what was needed to do and he would do it satisfactorily.
"Charlie, why haven't you written anything?
"Mrs. Mowry, I've got a lot of stories in my head."
"Focus on a single story and write it down that you have fifteen minutes left to finish."
"Perfect" Charlie replied with a pleasing gesture on his face.
"There's only 15 minutes left to finish the activity." the teacher told the class as she sat down.
Charlie wrote so lightly, like a leaf in the breeze, his fascinating mind gave free rein to his imagination, and his little hand wrapped around his bitten pencil wrote with emotion, as if living a great dream.
To participate you have the following link: We-Write #9: The Classroom
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