It was funny to find him here, with Miss Amara.I knew she always welcomed people.She took us all in.
Without intention, but with full curiosity, I caught the end of their conversation as I approached to say hello.
“And I do insist on paying you for your time with them, Miles.It’s nothing fixed or formal, but we have some funds, and we’ll make sure you get something as a temporary part-time helper.”
Maybe I was interrupting.I considered stopping my feet, but I was too close.
“Hi!”I smiled, and thought about assuring them I wasn’t trying to snoop.
But Miss Amara didn’t give me the chance, smiling right away.“Ella, dear, we’re just coming back from the Youth Club.You’re early for your shift!”
“I know, I was curious to see them at that workshop I read about happening today.”
“What do you do on your shift?”Miles asked.
“Oh, I stay with the little ones.I mean, the kindergarteners.Sometimes with the babies, other times with the ones who can already talk and run around.Today, I’m reading to those.”I lifted the book that I was carrying under my arm.“Challenging them to be still.”
He let out a soft laugh and nodded in understanding.
“Miles, why don’t you stay and go with Ella?You haven’t seen the kindergarten yet!”Miss Amara suggested.Miles looked at me before saying anything.
“Of course!”I assured him.“Want to join?”
“Yeah,” he smiled at my invitation.“Sure, I’ll join you.”
“I was wondering how you were adapting,” I said as we walked down the hall, after saying goodbye to Miss Amara.“And now I’m wondering what you and Miss Amara were doing at the Youth Club.”
“I’m good, thank you,” he said with a small smile, looking at the floor.“And Miss Amara wants me to help her organize a sort of Music Zone for the youth.I’d meet them, figure out which instruments would be interesting to have at the Center, and give some music lessons to those who are interested.”
“That’s a really good idea!Not everyone gets the opportunity to learn how to play an instrument.I think a lot of the kids would be excited about that!”
I hadn’t been expecting it, but I knew Miss Amara — she had plenty of cards up her sleeve.She was my piano teacher, and she must have known that Miles played different instruments himself.He was some sort of music genius.He’d had music classes at his old school, but it was like he didn’t need much to master an instrument.It was his passion.I found out about it two weeks ago on our flyers walk.
He nodded, his lips lifted in a soft smile.“Well, it was all Miss Amara’s idea.And I don’t know if I would be a good teacher.”
I couldn’t tell if he didn’t feel like doing it, or if he was just doubting himself.
“Do you like the idea?”I asked.
He thought for a few seconds before answering, “I do like the idea.”
“Then maybe you could give it a try and see what you think.Think about whether you’d like it or not.Don’t worry too much about whether they’d like you.Because I assure you, you’ll always win over some little musicians, no matter what you do.For them, you don’t have to be a professional.You just have to be there and just… offer them your time.”
I really believed what I was telling him.Children were easy, they weren’t strict or picky, they’d be happy with whatever Miles could share with them.
A theatrical voice interrupted us as we got to the kindergarten zone: “What color is your heart?”the workshop psychologist, Mary, said from inside the room.Miles and I leaned in the doorway to listen.
It was a workshop about emotions that the Community Center psychologists had prepared, and every family could sign up their child to participate.This first session was for 5-to-8-year-olds.I was curious to see what they would talk about.
“What colors would you use to paint your hearts today?And why?”
A kid shrank his shoulders.They were so cute when they were still so small that their shoulders reached their ears effortlessly.
“If your heart feels calm and quiet, you might chooseblue.But if you’re super happy and bouncing like a trampoline, maybeyellowis the color for you!”Mary explained.“Feelings are like colors: there are so many of them, and none of them are wrong.They all belong in your heart.”
Learning to reflect and communicate about your emotions — that was the summary of this workshop.I felt like I should be seated there.This was a workshop that every human being should be part of.At every age.
“Now, we’ll all make our ‘emotion flower’.I have one for each of you.I’ll ask for the help of my two assistants.”Mary gave Miles and me a wide smile.She had spotted us in the doorway.
