April 11, 2012
“What does ‘making connections’ mean to you?” I asked some fourth graders this morning. “Friends,” said one, “making friends” said another, “family” said a third. Each year the art department selects a theme for the Lower School Music and Art Show. The musical portion is set for this evening (Thursday, April 12) but the artwork will be up for several more weeks. “Connections are….life,” said another. “Without connections…” and her voice trailed off. I heard a story on the radio one morning this week and was at a loss for an answer about something very important. The story has stayed with me.
Perhaps because he was riding his bike on the way to delivering food for a family friend. Or that after they shot him, he tried to ride away, only to collapse and die on the pavement. They shot him to get the bike, the reporter said. “The robbery took place just minutes after Patzner left his father’s house with a plate of lasagna headed for the home of a family friend who frequently gets help from the Patzners,” wrote a reporter from the Star Tribune.
What shock waves are passing through his family and friends? How is his father living with sending him on this fatal errand? Three assailants, one victim, four ruined lives, dozens of others sharing in a senseless tragedy. And why can’t I shake the image?
I walk the halls here and wonder again how to prepare our kids for loss. Literature can be somewhat of a preparation. It can take us to the water’s edge to peer into the darkness and see the effects of loss. A few years back, I was a helper for a seventh grade literature project looking at the Civil War. Boys were reading about young teens slipping past the recruitment officers to join up, only to encounter first hand the horrors of war. (You can read about it here.) Theater can help. My first experience of a theatrical performance at MPA was of the Upper School production of J.B., a play based on the Book of Job. These young actors studied and re-lived for us the unimaginable tragedies that befell a man and his family. The reader or audience member is invited to react vicariously, to peer into the abyss.
But once the tragedy has occured and we are in the midst of an experience like no other, cut loose from the comfortable reality of a routine day with routine challenges (I lost my keys…or, when will I have time to get all of this done?) our connections to each other are all that really gets us through. Our family ties, our friends, and classmates or colleagues.
So when you visit this amazing collection of studies about connections, look deep. Look past the lines and shapes and colors and experience the connections. Listen tonight to the music of connection. See the connections move and evolve through the dance of the young. Feel the invisible ties that bind us all. And be comforted.
