Rhyming words, poetry, fables, history, science, multiplication, math word problems… these are the things Soma has covered with Emma over the last three days. Emma went from pointing to one letter at a time, to writing out several words and even whole sentences describing profound thoughts, insights, doubts and concerns, and I sat there witnessing this outpouring of words, this torrent of letters that, when added up, evoked emotion and identification and concern and understanding. The power of language. The power of communication. There is tremendous power in both.
This has been a profound few days; transformative, exhilarating and exhausting. I have watched my daughter work and she has worked very, very hard. I have watched her and I have marveled at her and been dismayed by her and astonished with her. I have laughed and wept and listened and listened and listened some more. She has said things that have provoked more questions than answers, but she is here, very much rooted in this world and not, as many suggest or seem to think, somewhere else, off in her own “little world”.
I cannot write about anything specific this morning, I’m too tired and Emma has said she is too. We have two more sessions today with Soma and then we head home. We are lucky. We are incredibly fortunate that we’ve had the means to do this, to come here, to stay for the week so that Emma could work with Soma. All the young children Soma has worked with over the years, so many of them are now writing books, and are at an age where they are publishing their hard-won words; there are too many to ignore. They are communicating on letter boards and iPads and keyboards, an unbelievable output of thoughts, ideas and opinions. “I want to be able to talk,” Emma wrote yesterday. And maybe, just maybe one day she will be able to talk the way she writes, but until then we will keep providing her with every available resource we can find so that she has a better chance of achieving that goal.
Em standing beneath the “Star of Texas”