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Tutus mean spinning until you collapse, laughing, in the wet grass. Tutus mean holding hands and dancing under the stars. Tutus mean believing you are special and unique. Tutus mean feeling pretty. And why should these things belong only to eight year-olds?
An eight year-old stands in front of the mirror. She is wearing the purple and teal tutu. She spins, watching it twirl. She looks in the mirror and sees her reflection. She does not think, “I am not enough.” She does not notice her flaws. Instead, she sees her tutu. She sees her beauty.
It’s a good thing I work in a school and not in a bank. I don’t think I’d do well in a business suit. Sure, I don’t wear my tutu to work, but my style is closer to the 12 year-olds that I teach than the grown-ups who work in offices. When I see real adults, going to real jobs, carrying briefcases and wearing high heels, I am so happy that I have a classroom with Hello Kitty and TinkerBell ceiling tiles and not a boring cubicle. I am happy I can carry my ladybug lunchbox and my water bottle decorated in pigs wearing – yes, tutus.
I believe in finding friends, like Kendra, who can appreciate a child’s spirit. I believe in remembering to not take yourself so seriously, that life should be fun, that the little moments are what count. I believe in twirling. I believe in childhood. I believe in tutus.
Kara!
ReplyDeleteI've been enjoying this blog immensely! Keep writing....
I know we haven't spoken in some time, but I was touched that you thought of me. I think of you every May on Mother's Day. :)
I'll keep reading...
Love,
Caitlin