Maurice Sendak, writing, and guilt

Maurice Sendak died today and I've been spending a lot of time reading about his life and work and feeling inspired by the things he's said about writing, art, and children. This quote stood out for me, especially, as I'm setting out to write this story about how I grew up:

“Grown-ups desperately need to feel safe, and then they project onto the kids. But what none of us seem to realize is how smart kids are. They don’t like what we write for them, what we dish up for them, because it’s vapid, so they’ll go for the hard words, they’ll go for the hard concepts, they’ll go for the stuff where they can learn something, not didactic things, but passionate things.” (link)

I think this is a really important as an an educator, or a write, or any person who interacts with children on a regular basis to understand and appreciate "how smart kids are." I've never met a kid who didn't have a story. From the kid who's been in the foster care system since a young age who were finally adopted by an amazing lesbian couple, or the boy who moved around from relative to relative and writes about how much he misses his dad who's been in and out of prison to the genius 3rd-now-4th-grader who articulately told me about how she admired her mom for taking care of elders where she works then coming home to take care of her and her sister. Children don't need to be sheltered, they need to be respected and listened to. I know there are some things in my personal story, things I did at 12 or 13, that might make some adults uncomfortable, but it's nothing most 12 or 13-year-olds have experienced or at least have an awareness of. 

I recently had a conversation with my sister about that time period when I tried to kill myself, the hospitals, and how our relationship changed in the aftermath of it all. I was surprised to learn about the guilt she felt, still, for not having done more. I had never really heard her perspective. I understood the fear and confusion she felt, she was 10 at the time and didn't really understand what was happening. But she felt guilty for not doing more, not calling 911. I was aware of my own guilt, and of my mother's guilt, but I had never thought about my sister's guilt. My guilt has to do with putting my family, my little sister, through such a traumatic experience. 

And what would have happened if she had called 911? My leg might have been saved. But would I have had to learn the hard lessons that have made me the person I now am if that had happened? Honestly, I think I'm better off without it-- the leg, that is. I don't think it's worth spending a lot of time thinking about how things would be different if it all played out differently, because things happened and now we're here and we're all stronger for it.