Midori Lee Gunheim teaches at Fort Ross School, a two-room school amid the redwoods of Northern California. Nearly 50 years ago, her grandmother taught her how to knit, and later to crochet. "I’ve always loved handwork," Gunheim says. That spirit inspired her to write this poem, called “Classroom Hands,” about the difficulty of student learning during the pandemic.
“I am grieving the loss of all the beautiful ways that our hands reach out to one another,” Gunheim says. “I realize that all of the things in a classroom that we and our students touch become possible vectors for the spread of illness and death. I recognize a fear in my heart over how we can possibly keep our families safe during this pandemic.”
I look back
In memory’s imperfect mirror At all the ordinary things
We did with our hands. I’d pick up your pencil
Loudly parked on our shared table It’s pink-top and its fat yellow shine- I did not need to consider
The invisible you Painted
Over that primary tool Of promise
And possibility
In the olden days, A few months ago,
I held your warm pencil With its future stories and It’s potential to assist
In the magic
Behind the manipulations Of tens and ones.
My fingertip, then Wiped your tear Tipped your chin
My eyes close to yours Trying to let you know:
I see you. I get it.
Let’s take a breath together … In through the nose
Hold it
Count one … two … three … And slowly looong
Exhale ……… Through pursed lips
………………..
Place your finger there
Feel that long slow breath ……… I’ll do it, too
With you Together …
Then,
My finger tap tap tapping
Your pencil’s plump pink eraser top-
This- tap tap
Is our friend, tap tap
Make new mistakes.
It’s called learning.
Gotta be brave.
Let’s take a look a different way. Putting your pencil down,
I reach and pull the box Of colored blocks Towards us
The ones we all use
You like yellow, right? Let’s dig Through here
You find seven yellow blocks I’ll find seven blue ones
Back in the old days A few months ago We could do seven Plus seven
Times a million Magical things With our hands
Never needing to Regroup
Or consider Invisible additions
Layered and painted
Onto every bright and beautiful thing
