This weekend I attended a reading of essays about coming to America. The writers of these essays were 10 and 11-year-olds who attend The Wise School in Los Angeles. Their works were part of an American History competition for kids. All the children presenting were rewarded with certificates and scholarships.
As a child-free person, I don’t spend a lot of time with kids (outside of Rock Camp each summer). So watching these little nuggets delivering their essays was sweet. They were so tiny in stature! And yet so confident. I truly enjoyed their creativity, too. It was cool to hear each child’s version of what immigrating to America’s Ellis Island looked like a century ago. A couple of the kids actually wove interesting tales.
After the kids and their families had left the meeting, we were told how one of the children had intentionally left his essay at home, thinking that little “oops” would mean he wouldn’t have to read his essay aloud. God love his mama, y’all, because that woman pulled her son’s essay/document up on her phone and forced him to read from there. I laughed so hard when I heard this. And really loved the mom for not giving her son a pass.
Another thing we learned was how the majority of the kids we saw were 1st generation Americans. As their parents were immigrants to the United States, it was through their children’s essay project that the parents themselves learned a bit about American history. It was kind of a beautiful thing – modern-day immigrants learning about earlier immigrants. About our collective history. After all – with very few exceptions, most all of us are in this country because of the brave souls who came to America hundreds of years ago. Souls who got on ships, with no idea what might happen or where they were going. But they toughed it out. For a Dream. For Hope. Seeing kids keeping that history alive through learning about it was special.
Those Young Americans made for a lovely Saturday morning in Hollywood. All in all it was fairly grand.