"My face is going to hurt because i'm smiling so much"

While watching third grade for the afternoon, one young girl came up to me with a curious look on her face.

"Ms. Laura, do you think I'm fat?"

I must have seemed startled by the question, because it took me a moment to respond.

"No, why do you say that?" I managed.

"Because when I look in the mirror, I see fat."

I tried to race in my mind back to when I was eight years old. Did I think about being fat? Was that the year that my doctor told me to stop eating too much peanut butter? Was that the year my best friend told me I wasn't as pretty as I thought I was ? I couldn't remember.

"How old are you, Casey?" 

"Eight."

"Casey, I want you to know that you are beautiful. You have so much growing up to do, and you should eat the foods that you love that are good for you, and play outside with your friends, and be happy!"

"I don't eat any junk food, Ms. Laura."

"It's o.k. to eat junk food sometimes! It's o.k. to have fun!"

"Thanks Ms. Laura."

I carried a heavy heart for the rest of the afternoon, even heavier than when I discovered my eighth grade boys had found a nude artistic magazine in my classroom, or when my favorite sixth grader told me he thought his father hated him.

I was going to go home early and figure out some of these feelings, but I decided to stay after school and help with the 2nd grade movement class.

The first grade teacher and I encouraged all the students to walk around the stage barefoot. We started to float to the music, interpretive dance, and sing out loud. 

The children were giggly at first, but soon they grew right into their expressive souls.

"My face is going to hurt because I'm smiling so much!"  one second grader yelled.

This magic, this art, this is what these girls needs. They don't need Miley Cyrus telling them they have to be a size two. They need their art teacher crawling on the ground to Irish music and laughing with them. They need to know they are beautiful.

And they are. So. very.