Dear Ruta,
Days later, we are still struggling to come up with words. On February 17 the two women who never stop talking were brought to a tear-filled, head-shaking halt. It was a day filled with nothing but good and we aren't sure how to thank you. We don't feel like we can adequately express what happened that day and how grateful we are, but we're going to try.
Let’s start with the story of the T-shirts.
Let’s start with the story of the T-shirts.
Every year we order T-shirts for our readers. They like them because they’re middle school
kids and, hey, free shirt! We like them
because it gives them an external way of identifying themselves as
readers. It helps them find each
other. It shows that they are a part of
something bigger than themselves.
We always choose colors carefully. Our first year of t-shirts we chose blue and
yellow because they are our school colors. The year after we ordered shirts in five
different colors to align with the factions of Divergent. For Unbroken we ordered camouflage green, for
The Finest Hours – stormy sky
blue. Of course this year, everyone just
assumed the shirts would be gray.
But that was something that we knew we couldn’t do. The idea of putting this book, full of life
and love and strength, into the hands of kids and then swathing them in gray?
It just didn’t feel right.
See, we Crazy Reading Ladies do a lot by feel. For example, we knew Between Shades of Gray was “the book” for this year without ever
actually speaking about it. Most years
we do exhaustive research, compile lists, divide reading duties, and talk
endlessly. This year, we found ourselves
planning activities and timelines without ever having the “Are you saying ‘yes
to this dress?’” conversation. We just
felt it.
So we wracked our brains for colors that would make sense…variations of blue and white and black and other colors that could fall “between shades of
gray?” It still painted such a dreary
image. White? Too boring.
Mary’s preference – slate (or gray, if you must) blue – was too close to
last years’ color. That’s when Erin
suggested the colors that felt right.
As much as gray felt wrong, these colors felt right. Our feelings were validated when we logged
into our t-shirt vendor of choice and saw that they carried colors that were
exactly right. We made mock-up shirts
and stared at the proofs on Mary’s computer screen. That feeling...
Please don’t think us too sappy (or crazy), but it reminded
us of a certain July evening in the basement of a Boston restaurant. After gathering ourselves outside and
ineffectively trying to calm each other with “We’re calm. Stay calm.
You’re calm, right? Me too.” we walked
into your open arms. You embraced us
before you even spoke to us. It was as
if we’d known you for years. And it felt
right.
Our kids felt it, too.
Without realizing they would meet you that day, our kids were honored to
understand the meaning behind the colors. We told them we were gathering to take
a picture to send to you. Picking up
their shirts that morning, 8th grade boys - who are too cool for anything -
gasped when we explained the color choices and said, "Ohhhh, that's
awesome!"
Our kids feel connected to you. From the beginning you’ve been tweeting at
them, emailing them, smiling at them from the selfie we both have framed in our
offices. But more than that, they love
your book. Not only is it accessible and
engaging, but it’s beautifully written and tells an incredible story. Our kids simply devoured it. Never before have we gotten the student
feedback that we got this year. “I want
to know more. I NEED to know more!” “Do you have Salt to the Sea? Please tell me you have Salt to the Sea. I NEED TO READ SALT TO THE SEA!”
Teachers aren’t supposed to use the word love. We’re supposed to say that we “care deeply”
and use euphemisms like “respect” as if “love” itself is a dirty word. But we CRL do now, and we have for quite sometime , feel that eliminating love from the vocabulary of the
classroom does a disservice to our students.
When students read something that speaks to them and makes
them want to learn more about their own heritage and the world they live in, it’s
appropriate to use the word love.
When self-proclaimed “non-readers” finish one book and
rapidly move on to its partner, it’s important to use the word love.
When a students’ eyes light up because their name has just
been spoken aloud by the woman they hold at the same level of esteem as Harper
Lee or Tom Brady, the only
appropriate word to use is love.
And without using the word love, we can’t explain Friday,
February 17th. We can’t
explain the feeling that transcended the miles, pouring in like sunshine from
where you sat in your office a thousand miles away. Without love we don’t know how to describe
the auditorium packed with 332 rapt adolescents who got to meet the woman who
wrote the book that changed their lives.
Without love, we don’t know how to explain how every single one of those
students silently defied their Assistant Principal’s directive to begin
dismissal.
Without love, how do you explain how 332 students knew to
stand, en masse, without direction, to show you the shirts that came together
to create the Lithuanian flag?
And this brings us back to the t-shirts. Besides being driven by instinct and what
felt right, there was something else motivating the t-shirt color choice. We kept thinking about that Skype visit - what
you would see on your computer screen when the call connected. We couldn’t let you see 330 seats filled with
gray. Instead, we wanted to honor you and
your story; to at least try to convey what you mean to us and our students. We wanted to show you what you had done. We made sure you logged in
to see an auditorium full of love.
With Love and gratitude for everything,
Mary and Erin
