Cliff of Doom (The Gifts of Awe and Wonder)
I don’t have photos of when the children climbed or summited the “cliff of doom” for two reasons. The first is because it was pouring rain and the second is because so many of us were crying.
You know how adults share classroom stories with “we,” like “we painted,” but actually only the children painted? Well, in this case, when I say, “so many of US were crying,” it truly was us crying. I was crying along with a handful of children.
The only ones who weren’t crying were our other teacher, Ada, and the group of children already at the top of the cliff. Ada was down at the midpoint of the cliff helping children problem solve the rest of the ascent. The children who had already climbed the cliff, shouted down encouragement. The thing is, we had gotten up before it got good and muddy and all the hand- and footholds became too loose to help anyone. I stretched out on the ground at the top, the mud caving in at the edge of the parking lot, the rain coming down, shouting, too, pointing out branches and tree stumps.
The beginning of the journey. Our local parkway is closed on Fridays so our walk is free and easy along the creek. On rainy days, and this was a pouring cold rain, we move. At this point, the children were filled with fascination about the overflowing and rushing creek.
Eventually, we all got to the top of the cliff. We took stock. We stood in that pouring rain, hearing the sound of rushing water. We dived into the emotional turmoil so many of us felt in our gut. Despair, fear, overwhelming sense of being stuck, and also the feeling of victory and accomplishment, though those were not shared by all.
“This is the best day of my life!” shouted one of the children. We all had to shout over the rain.
The crying didn’t really stop with that piece of news delivered with a cheer that cut through the gloom.
We had been stuck on that cliff for what felt like hours and we had to hustle home to school. While many of the children resolved and catalogued what they had accomplished, there were a few whose tears were still flowing. There were children who had to walk and cry. That is an accomplishment worth noting as well!
Even though we were running late for home time, we had to stop to empty the collected rainwater from our boots and shoes.
There is a small gift rain will give you with good waterproof boots — the rainwater held inside them keeps feet warm (as long as you are moving), but your socks get sloshy and heavy. I had to empty my own before taking another step towards home. The children did the same. One child, wearing waterproof sandals took hers off and only observing this moment — this small, but so very telling, moment of camaraderie and belonging — was I able to relax and take stock of what we had accomplished.
I knew in that moment we had to go back to the cliff.
The reason we had to go back is that we had to bring the story of the “Cliff of Doom” full circle. We talked and planned. There were children opposed to the idea. They didn’t want to see that cliff ever again. Others wanted to go back right away. To care for those still holding their fear close, we planned out our next journey with two key pieces. One, we would not climb up or down the cliff. Two, we would go on a sunny day.
The children stood at the top of the cliff looking down. They were silent at first, taking the view in. Then they all started talking to each other, about which trees and branches they used. One pointed out the hole I almost fell into. They talked about how far away the creek was — where their climb started — it’s barely visible from this great height.
Wonder and awe. These are gifts that will stand for us. They are the things that will bring us comfort and settle us during times we feel stuck and at a loss for how to proceed.
I am using the word “we” purposefully because we all, teachers and children, needed to revisit this cliff of doom, from the top looking down, warmed by the sun with blue sky above.
We did this and guess what?!?! We don’t have to do it again.
Unless we want to ;)
