"There is a program in the schools in Toronto
called Roots of Empathy.
A woman named Mary Gordon started this program in 1996.
She brings babies—yes, real live babies-- into Toronto classrooms
to help students learn social and emotional literacy
to promote empathy,
to promote caring for someone other than yourself,
especially for the someones who are weaker and more vulnerable.
Research is showing that the program reduces aggression,
especially bullying, in the schools.
Mary Gordon tells this story:
Darren was the oldest child I ever saw in a “Roots of Empathy” class.
He was in Grade 8 and had been held back twice.
He was two years older than everyone else
and already starting to grow a beard.
His mother had been murdered in front of his eyes
when he was four years old,
and he had lived in a succession of foster homes ever since.
Darren looked menacing
because he wanted us to know he was tough:
His head was shaved except for a ponytail at the top
and he had a tattoo on the back of his head.
The mother who had brought her baby Evan into the classroom that day
talked to the class about how her baby liked to face outward
in his Snugli, a type of baby carrier,
and that Evan wasn’t really a cuddly sort of baby.
When the mother asked if anyone would like to try on the Snugli,
which was green and trimmed with pink brocade,
everyone was stunned when Darren said he would.
Just then the class ended and students rushed off to lunch,
but Darren stayed behind.
He strapped on the Snugli
and then asked the mother if he could put Evan in.
The mother was a little nervous but she handed him her baby,
And Darrin put Evan in the Snugli, facing toward his chest.
That wise little baby snuggled right in,
And Darrin took him into a quiet corner and rocked back and forth
with the baby in his arms for several minutes.
Finally, he came back to where the mother and the teacher were waiting
and asked:
“If nobody has ever loved you,
do you think you could still be a good father?”
If nobody has ever loved you,
do you think you could still be a good father."
I read this on the web.
I just started to sob.
Tears of Wilson.
It got to me where I hurt.
Where I yearn.
Where I belong.
I am not ashamed of the tears ..............
.
