Personal Narrative: Working With Children
Working with kids didn’t seem like a big deal at first. In fact, the idea was really intriguing. However, as the time began to bring me closer to the moment, I could feel my heartbeat… every single pound in my chest harder and louder than the previous one. It beats so hard, I thought it might escape my chest. The thud began to echo in my ears, louder than my footsteps against the marble floor. I paused at the doorway, letting my eyes roam the room before anyone noticed my appearance. One last time, my unsteady hands quickly ran down my thighs through my faded light blue jeans. As the door stood towering above me, I let out a shaky breath, closing my eyes. I grasped the doorknob, the cold metal sending a shiver up my already quivering arm. I
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She’s about 5’6 and has blond, wavy hair that’s in a sloppy, pushed back bun with a thin Nike headband. With a body that seems to run everyday and arms that look like the width noodles, she wore a green PINK sweater that hangs loosely off her upper body and black PINK legging compressed against her legs. As I come to my senses, I realize her gently scrubbing paint off a girl’s hand with a once-was-white towel - before getting covered in red and green paint - soaked in soap and water. While I patiently waited for other kids to come, I sat at a round table that was covered in microscopic specks of black, grey, and white. Around the perimeter of the table was a thick black band giving it the circular shape. I began to focus on the splattered paint drops that were missed while someone must’ve scrubbed the majority of it off, when I heard fast footsteps being trailed with the same familiar voice. Looking up, I see Caitlyn greeting more children at the gate with their parents. The two kids look around the room with eyes of a little excitement and little eagerness to join the other children sitting at a table painting. During the first 45 minutes or so, the children speak amongst one another with low voices, you can clearly hear calming music in the background word for word, and the kids are all getting along. Each child painted at least two pictures and showed their creative artwork to the supervisors with a proud tone in their
She’s about 5’6 and has blond, wavy hair that’s in a sloppy, pushed back bun with a thin Nike headband. With a body that seems to run everyday and arms that look like the width noodles, she wore a green PINK sweater that hangs loosely off her upper body and black PINK legging compressed against her legs. As I come to my senses, I realize her gently scrubbing paint off a girl’s hand with a once-was-white towel - before getting covered in red and green paint - soaked in soap and water. While I patiently waited for other kids to come, I sat at a round table that was covered in microscopic specks of black, grey, and white. Around the perimeter of the table was a thick black band giving it the circular shape. I began to focus on the splattered paint drops that were missed while someone must’ve scrubbed the majority of it off, when I heard fast footsteps being trailed with the same familiar voice. Looking up, I see Caitlyn greeting more children at the gate with their parents. The two kids look around the room with eyes of a little excitement and little eagerness to join the other children sitting at a table painting. During the first 45 minutes or so, the children speak amongst one another with low voices, you can clearly hear calming music in the background word for word, and the kids are all getting along. Each child painted at least two pictures and showed their creative artwork to the supervisors with a proud tone in their