Yesterday afternoon we’re driving home from violin lessons via the grocery store and the girls have got their riff running in the backseat. It’s almost like they’ve agreed on some sublime topic (“OK, let’s free associate about colors”), only they haven’t. It just unfolds.
Taller daughter: What does yellow have to do with orange and what does orange have to do with pink?
(Apropos of nothing. The sky was gray and the car in front of us was a dirty blue.)
Smaller daughter, barely pausing and certainly not asking for clarification: They’re all in a sunset.
(Notice there’s no question mark at the end. Her voice doesn’t rise like the voices of my college students always do, wondering if they are anywhere in the neighborhood of right. Nope. She’s certain it’s a good answer. And her sister confirms it.)
Taller daughter: Good answer!
(Delighted with the sunset idea, which is, afterall, as good as any. Because it’s clear that there wasn’t one singular satisfying thing she needed to hear — the whole topic was open for interpretation.)
And I’m up front just trying to catch up.
If I’d been in on this, I’m sure I would’ve asked for clarification, dullard that I am — especially at 5pm in traffic.
I’m thinking I oughta remember this when I’m parenting and teaching and writing for kids.
There’s not always one good answer or even one good question.
There’s not always context or linear thought.
There’s not always a simple, straight-forward way of looking at things.
These are the days before yellow and orange and pink have become all black and white.
(I may be a dullard, but I’m feeling grateful for color… )
Good answer, Liz! I’m always grateful for color, too. I find that I love colors now that I used to hate as a teenager. What’s up with that?
I think our windows can sometimes get a bit, um, narrow as teens. I remember really only wanting one pair of brown shoes (because that’s what everyone else was wearing). Nothing else would do. Sigh. Wish I had a pair of pink-orange-yellow pumps to travel back in time in…
What a great backseat conversation! I really miss being like that/thinking like that. Which reminds me. We need to paint our house.
Nice free association yourself, there, Jama…
We have conversations like this in my house. So glad I’m not the only one feeling like a dullard…
We gotta stick together…
I so love this post, and the question, and the answer, and the take-away.
I’m grateful for you and your posts.
Right back atcha, Kelly…
Sounds like these girls live in the same house with a poet!
How lucky that they live in the same house with someone who listens to them and captures their wisdom.
Mary Lee
Aw shucks. I’m thinking I’m the lucky one, but thanks Mary Lee.
This is moving in about a million ways. I love your younger daughter’s answer. I love your older daughter’s generosity in affirming it. I love your careful ear and how you stayed quiet. I love the question. I love it all and had to stop illustrating your story for a moment to tell you so… mfrazee
xxxx
now back to work!
Cloudscome says:
This is a great post. Thanks for sharing your listening ear.