Dreams

We just finished reading The Marrow Thieves and we’ve been talking about the author’s descriptions. They talk about the sixteen year old protagonist as if he exists which I believe is irrefutable evidence the author has been successful. I remind them – this is a 44 year old woman writing from the voice of a 16 year old boy. A few eyes shift left and I read a sense of awakening with the audible shifting in chairs, an “oh yeah”, and smiles blossom.

We then talk about the central premise that Indigenous people are being hunted for their bone marrow because they are the dreamers and eveyone else has lost the ability to dream. They seem to like this idea and there is no need to explain the importance of dreams to teenagers.

“Dreams get caught in the webs woven in your bones. That’s where they live, in that marrow there.” (Dimaline 18)

We talk about the scientific role of bone marrow as the source of blood – a metaphor for life, connection to others, identity. They understand without explanation nodding to let me know without words. Checking for comprehension is sometimes quantifiable and often not; I decide to trust my instincts not looking for levels and numbers to justify my findings. I believe they are following, making connections, and feeling the importance of dreams in their own lives, but I don’t have a data point.

My literary reverie is broken and the shards of reality peirce my comfort. I remember those who released their dreams, put them aside to care for younger siblings, work a part-time job, or help an ailing parent; their dreams are muted and constrained.

There is a student in her class that we have been watching closely. Poverty is an ever present guest and his home life is more than difficult, more than a 16 year old boy should be managing. Like Frenchie, he’s on the run, trying to hang on to his dreams and we are in his wake, behind invisible structures trying to bend them out of existence. As he leaves class today, I catch his eye in the hallway, smile and we exchange a look that isn’t quantifiable. I hope he hears me whisper inside, “We’re with you. You’ve got this. Keep dreaming.”

 

8 thoughts on “Dreams

  1. UGH! Why couldn’t I like this book? I didn’t even finish it. Maybe I need to revisit. EVERYONE else seems to like it so much. I love hearing about these conversations in your classroom. Its so interesting to see what kids can do when they are given the chance to read and talk about what interests them and what matters to them. And I love that they are reading current books by Canadian authors. So important.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Lisa. I have to admit that it took me a few tries before I was captured by the book. If you like audiobooks, try it on audible.ca. It’s an indigenous reader and I loved listening to it. I began the reading by playing the audiobook in class for the first chapter.

      Like

  2. this is a beautiful piece. thank you for sharing this. reading and writing and teaching and emotional impact and everything rolled into one slice. i really loved this. thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I had to give it a couple of attempts, too. But once I understood what had happened to indigenous people in Canada and what their values and beliefs are about the interconnectedness of the entire living world, then I read it differently.

      Like

  3. “I don’t have a data point.” So much in here resonates with me. I try as best I can, but so much of what I know about my students, like dreams, isn’t quantifiable. How do I prove that it is relationship that drives our knowledge forward, that it is relationship that keeps your student safe and lets him have some semblance of dreams? Isn’t this what The Marrow Thieves tells us? I am glad you are there for him, for them, for me.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s