This morning three of the girls woke early to make biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Then they came back to the dorm to get dressed and ready for the day. A few minutes later, one of the other girls came in and said the gravy was gone. The boys had eaten it.
This is not a discussion of gender. No one assigned those girls the task to cook breakfast. And no one intended to serve the boys first. The girls asked if they could make biscuits and gravy, because they wanted to eat it.
I was still sitting in my bed when this unfolded. When I walked out, the boys were sitting around the table, full plates in front of them, enjoying their breakfast. The girls stomped around a bit. A couple of other kids, who also missed the gravy part of the program, dug out the cheerios. One of the dads offered up fresh bagels he had picked up earlier this morning (don't ask me when; I was not awake yet). But I don't think anything helped the girls feel better. And the boys, if they felt bad, did not show it on their faces.
What I noticed was that we adults wanted to fix it, make it right, restore the balance. I heard someone say to one of the kids who had missed out, "Don't worry. Once we are up on that roof, you'll be glad you didn't eat a heavy breakfast." Our leader, who has been on many, many of these trips with kids, mentioned that she would be having a conversation about it later on. As for me, well, once I saw the boys had finished, I suggested they go in and load everything breakfast dishes. I like to even the scales.
After they left, I set to work cleaning the rest of the mess: pans from cooking sausage and making the gravy, bowls in which they had mixed the white sauce, baking sheets, mixing spoons, and a greasy stovetop. There was a bowl full of extra biscuits, thirteen of them, which are now stuffed with ham and cheese and egg and wrapped in foil in the fridge. While I put them together, I contemplated when to serve them, and how to divy them up fairly.
I think at the heart of this is a conversation about work, and about being rewarded. Those girls got up early, cooked breakfast and went off to get ready for work, thinking that they would be sitting down to a tasty, decadent breakfast. And those boys did nothing to earn the right to eat their fill. And I can relate. Yesterday, one of the kids whom I have know for many years, asked me about my book, and when I told her, she said, how long have you been working on that?
5 years.
I am ready for my biscuits and gravy.
I tell myself these words, that I once taped these words from the Tal Te Ching to the wall inside the closet of a house I have long since left behind:
Do your work, then step back. The only path to serenity.
Posted with Blogsy
No comments:
Post a Comment