UNHINGED: By Addie Domske

Kids are rainbows.
Bright, colorful, transparent rainbows.
Tonight we read a poem by Verna Curfman:

“Dark clouds swirling over my head.
The rain shows no forgiveness.
The lightening will not stop.
The levees are failing to protect this one town
From the more devastation to come.

The winds are screaming and my heart is pounding.
When did this party turn into a nightmare –
A nightmare where my hopes and dreams were all blown a[rat
In a single blow of wind.
A nightmare where rivers are rifing and systems are failing to protect.
As we fight for last breaths with the water at our necks.

We wake up; the storm is over.
Just to start the hallucinations all over again.
For now we see the destruction, the dead and the hopelessness of the city.

Where did the parties end and the nightmares begin?”

Isn’t that amazing? It sums up everything I want to learn and reflect on during the week. What else is there to say? It is that good. Oh yeah, she’s in 7th grade.

Have you ever heard anyone say, “You’ll understand when you’re older,” like you might not be able to comprehend the next point they are going to make? Why can’t you understand now? Why do some people think that kids don’t get things? I think often times kids’ potential is underestimated. Sometimes I feel like life as an adult is so much more…informed?

I grew up with siblings that are ten and fifteen years older than I (sounds weird). Throughout my life my family has had confidence in me. They have encouraged me and believed that I was capable of doing and understanding the very things that they themselves were capable of.
I think this is why I am always puzzled when people look down on kids like they can’t understand.

It’s like Solvejg said the other day, why do we change our voice when we are talking to people younger than us? The tone of our voice is not going to make them understand any better. At the very least is will insult them.

When do you become an adult?

I mean, if we’re getting technical, then I’m a legal adult too, but I think I missed the memo explaining the “secret” some adults seem to know about life. At any rate, I always feel like I’m not included in that group of “adults” that seem to understand something secret.

Why?

What makes us an adult? When we live on our own? When we can make our own decisions? When we get a job? Make our own dinner? Do our own laundry?
When we get tired of work? Tired of paying taxes and mowing the lawn? Tired of life?

Now what good is that?

“Adults” seem to be so tired and serious.

Do I really want to be an “adult”?

Today at the school, the kids were happy.
They were excited.
They were carefree, unhinged, ready to take on the world (as well as the group of strangers that had just entered their school.) J

Why not be like that? It seems a lot more productive. More honest. More…like God intended it to be.

The other day a kid told Alex that her dog had died because she wanted to. No pity expected. No attention needed. Nothing. She just wanted to. She wanted to tell his new friend something about herself. And she was able to talk about an even that was hard with honesty and sincerity, no show.

Isn’t that great?

Wouldn’t it be great to just…be honest? To just say what you want? What you mean?

I want to be a rainbow too.