She moved from another country midyear. Her English was gentle but unsure, like someone testing thin ice. In her journal, she sketched a house finch nesting on her balcony. She said the bird taught her that belonging starts small. Her classmates passed her paper around, admiring her voice, her bravery, her demeanor. By late May, she spoke like she had always been part of us. I was amazed at not only her, but the kiddos in her new community and how welcoming they were, how they’d embraced her the way you would a long lost relative, and how they helped her bring words to the emotions she went through one by one.
5” x 7”. Oil on 100% cotton paper.
She moved from another country midyear. Her English was gentle but unsure, like someone testing thin ice. In her journal, she sketched a house finch nesting on her balcony. She said the bird taught her that belonging starts small. Her classmates passed her paper around, admiring her voice, her bravery, her demeanor. By late May, she spoke like she had always been part of us. I was amazed at not only her, but the kiddos in her new community and how welcoming they were, how they’d embraced her the way you would a long lost relative, and how they helped her bring words to the emotions she went through one by one.
5” x 7”. Oil on 100% cotton paper.
