Today was different. It began with a vibrant feeling, a brightness, colors leapt and soared, ambushing the air in the space where Jasmine laid. These colors peeked out from what were usually dreary, clouded, dull grays that dimmed this linoleum, synthetic fabric lined world which Jasmine so often woke to.
The psychological jaunt young Jasmine took often left her feeling grey, drab, confused by -it all. This brightness she was sensing was lovely, enlivening her spirit to feel connected with life.
This …. Is something Jasmine loved, she was feeling, feeling something good. This positive radiance was unique, it was coursing through her as she woke, breathing in the morning light.
Although it is unnecessary to explicate…. This day started out exceptionally well for young Jasmine. To begin with, she could already appreciate that it was Friday, “…at last,” … “at last, at last…” Jasmine concluded her muted, volume-less chant with an exhale that was released in an attention grabbing audible just as her bunk mate began to sit up at the sound of it. Sighs & yawns passed through the room. The stretched out yawns were then followed by grumbles and moans.
Finally, the week of school work, sitting in that hard plastic chair and following compounded instructions was arriving to a conclusion. Friday began the weekend break, a break from rules and learning new policies about personal conduct within the The Maria House. Some of the forms had the words, The Maria House– A Center for Care carefully placed, well-centered at the bottom of most pages that Jasmine had been instructed to read and sign.
In addition to the bureaucratic paperwork, Jasmine felt good about completing her schoolwork as well. She had completely finished another week of schooling, including a series of homework assignments that accompanied each day’s in-class coursework.
On this week, Jasmine could hold her head high as she successfully completed each of her homework assignments with the highest possible marks and received a few stickers to signify her accomplishments. She was logging sincere efforts before she laid her head down each night of this entire week. She worked diligently, even on those assignments that Mrs. Parker had given out on Saturday. It was unusual for Jasmine to focus on school work over the weekend but she made the decision to do just that and she followed through.
This gave her a sense of accomplishment, a feeling of perfect contentment that she wanted to feel more of. This feeling was alive in her for a number of reasons. The greatest reason, what really lit her up on this day of days was the knowledge that her favorite teacher, Mr. Paul was coming in to join her class. This was the day, she awoke with excitement on this morning.
This visit …. made her happy. Mr. Paul knew so much about the world, he understood things that other adults couldn’t understand. Then when she asked questions he listened with eagerness. He listened intently & waited with a patience she couldn’t find on most days. In other parts of the building she often saw adults as people who looked toward the clock and commented on the time as a reason for not creating new opportunities for the children of The Maria House.
After meeting Mr. Paul she sought out this particular exhibit of patience. She scoured the humans in and around the facilities with hopes of detecting this special quality. Even elsewhere when traveling outside the facility, ..but …it was not to be found in her peers nor in any of the staff members in this unfeeling place where she resided.
Mr. Paul was unique, he was quiet and the students appreciated how well he listened when they spoke with him. It was as though everything they shared was wholly meaningful. Jasmine defiantly asserted her praise of him when the voices of her peers at St. Peter’s place hinted toward a questioning tone. Jasmine asserted that he must care as no one person can act or perform so convincingly without genuine interest. The student who most deeply appreciated Mr. Paul was Jasmine, this was apparent to all. He often called her ‘Jazz’, this among other things that he did gave her a feeling of being seen, appreciated and in those moments when he spoke the word jazz in her direction, she loved her name more than he loved his jazz music. He referenced his favorite jazz musicians and educated her on the great Jazz artists who had played their instruments to create the unique style that became known as the American originated, born and created in the U.S.A. ; jazz music. Mr. Paul reminded her that these musicians played their instruments masterfully. He spoke so gracefully of the ways jazz evolved over the years, it was with acceptance and appreciation that he spoke about this development. She liked Mr. Paul, he was different from the other teachers, exceptionally different. He was a person who inspired her to consider the term: love. She wondered about love and Mr. Paul brought about much of this curious reflection that floated about in her thought stream.
Mr. Paul walked, spoke, dressed and even stood in a different way than other authority figures who visited her school. When he came to visit, Jasmine became keen to question many of her presupposed conclusions about adults. She wondered if there were more like him.
Some of these authorities came in to the facility she called home just to look around with concerned expressions, asking questions to corner the young girls and frame their answers. These questions came in rapid-fire succession interrogations then abruptly finished as these black suit wearing men would easily depart without a friendly or smile. Relief appeared as they left. It was as though they placed a weight on the shoulders of the staff members around the building. Tensions arose with these suited figures as soon as they entered the buildings and very few pains were assuaged because of these so called professionals. Some of these figures just took notes, barely looking up from their clipboards.
Mr. Paul though, he …. He was different. His style, the tempo and cadence of his voice were slow, relaxed and he received what the young people said as valuable.
He was funny, . He wore red rimmed glasses that had been decorated with sunflower stickers, one on each side. He smiled wide, brightened up her morning and gave her the best complements when she participated in his creative writing exercises. There were only two times she couldn’t participate, those were tough days for Jazz. On those especially emotional days she stayed in bed, held on to the covers and held on to her ‘self’. It was on those days that she realized that she was looking out for Jasmine( Young Jazz), holding on to her sanity the best way she could. Even on those days Mr. Paul would habitually stop in front of her desk. he imagined that she was sitting there.
Even if she didn’t want to write he would encourage her, unendingly. He praised her efforts tenaciously. He’d ask if she’d like to draw a picture, talk or write a song together. He would keep trying and show his soul-felt approval for anything she produced.
She appreciated Mr. Paul dearly, often wondered what life was like for him outside of the ‘facility’ where fate had insisted that she maintain her stay. With this being her residence, she chose to daydream on occasions when her thoughts wandered. Imagination was her best tool, imagination was an absolute necessity in her eyes, she needed a healthy imagination to survive. This ability she had, empowered her to drift away into other places that offered her a chance to envision him taking nice, long, meandering strolls through the forest that was alive just outside. On these slow journeys Mr. Paul reflected on something that happened during the week. Or … maybe he would consider one of the novels he was reading.
“What else would he think about?” Jasmine wondered aloud to herself.
She wondered earnestly, squinted eyes almost closing them just as this moment would come to an abrupt halt when he’d announce that it was time for his departure. It was his time to disrupt her daydreams with an open armed, kind but firm; ..
“It is now farewell, my friends, until next time my good students..”… pleasant tone set him astride and off he went.
Then, as he finished his salute he would raise both arms and glide out of the room, lithely moving past the entrance until he was no longer visible.
Even after he had long disappeared, his presence was present. His complements were still felt and throughout The Maria Center he was always dearly appreciated. The visits were cherished, his utterances even, they were coveted by the students who participated in his writing class.
Jasmine – Chapter 3
The next morning had come.
…….”aaahhhhh”, she’d sigh.. exhaling in a long, audible tone as she felt the pressure of her reality begin to weigh heavily on her chest once more.
In these late hours she continued to hope and yearn.
She yearned for quiet, a home with two loving, thoughtful parents. She dreamt of caring, adoring parents that fawned over her moves, over her facial expressions and they giggled while looking at her through eyes that sang with glee when she walked in to a room where they both sat.
She loved to envision these experiences that she’d never totally had. Although she knew her mother loved her, anxious energy was often prevalent with her always busy mama.
She knew that all this was unlikely, it was not the life she ever grew to know or experience but it was something she hoped, prayed and imagined only in her mind’s vision where it was all perfectly possible. Jasmine loved to daydream about these fantastic scenarios until being suddenly startled back to the sounds & dreary dialogues of the foggy depression that surrounded her.
Philip Dane 