Liam is gone. He’s hit the wilderness. Will the wilderness ever be the same?
Sometime after 8:00 am., on Monday buses pulled away from the Arthur D. Healy School, bearing nine-and-ten-year olds off to something called Nature’s Classroom in Rhode Island. Those must have been noisy buses, packed to capacity with kids, all excited to go. They'd all heard stories from older kids, and now it was their turn.
Liam knew that he’ll need some waterproof boots for splashing in streams, and he knew that, on the trip two years ago, the kids dissected a small shark. Stream or shark, I don’t know which idea thrilled him more, streams or shark, but he wanted to take it all in.
You’ve got to understand something; Liam is a city kid. He was born in a North-eastern city, and he’ll live here until it’s time for college. Stars don’t shine to brightly through the Somerville smog. Liam loves frogs and snakes, and he’s seen them, as part of school projects. One time in August, we saw an eagle perched on the roof on the Foodmaster; now that’s wildlife!
Now, I know Somerville nine-year-old boys. I know what they read, how they play, how they talk. I know what matters to them. And another thing I know is that only two fourth-graders of my acquaintance walk any further than around the corner without an adult to lead them.
These children are out there now, with two pairs of sneakers apiece. They have a week’s worth of underwear and socks We’ve packed them shirts to layer over shirts to layer over shirts , rain boots,, boots with treads, slickers and gallons of Purel. A parent whose child went on the last trip suggested that kids bring plastic bread-bags for kids to wear between=n their boots and shoes to keep their feet dry, so every kid has those. Liam also has two disposable cameras and a notebook too, and I hope he uses them.
Monday night, we got the call I know that other parents were dreading. Around 10 pm, Liam’s teacher called to tell us that Liam had thrown up his dinner. Rich food, she said, it he might have thrown up because the food was pretty heavy. Liam had no fever, but nobody could be sure of anything. We might have to come in the morning and pick him up, but we wouldn’t know until morning.
Jamie talked to Liam. He said our son sounded like a tired kid who had just puked; it was that simple.
I did almost cry. I did want to carry him home and take care of him, but that’s not the only reason I almost cried.
I’ll tell you one thing about my boy, he’s a puker. He’s been throwing up on me for ten years, so I know that it’s just the way he gets sick. Once it’s over, an hour later he might be feeling bouncy. I’m the same way, so I’m used to it; vomit doesn’t phase me.
What worried me was that he would be feeling fine in the morning and still get bundled off home. Two days in the house with a boy who had been robbed of splashing, shark-dissecting, and boy-craziness etc. wouldn’t bee any fun for anybody.
Jamie talked to one of the trip chaperones Tuesday morning. No fever, no cough, no rash; Liam would be staying!
I talked to Liam an hour later, and he still sounded depleted. He didn’t know what was for breakfast, and he wasn’t sure how much he’d eat. He’d seen a whole field covered in frost this morning, and that was the most amazing thing. Maybe city kids have little to compare a frosty field against, or maybe it was an amazing thing. I can’t wait to hear more.
He’s coming home today. Monday night might have fixed him in Choice Program lore as “The Kid Who Puked at Nature’s Classroom”, but I don’t think that matters. I hope the trip was worth having to have nausia sweep in 100 + miles from home. Who knows, “The Boy Who Puked” might be the hero of the trip; you can never tell with boys.
Sometime after 8:00 am., on Monday buses pulled away from the Arthur D. Healy School, bearing nine-and-ten-year olds off to something called Nature’s Classroom in Rhode Island. Those must have been noisy buses, packed to capacity with kids, all excited to go. They'd all heard stories from older kids, and now it was their turn.
Liam knew that he’ll need some waterproof boots for splashing in streams, and he knew that, on the trip two years ago, the kids dissected a small shark. Stream or shark, I don’t know which idea thrilled him more, streams or shark, but he wanted to take it all in.
You’ve got to understand something; Liam is a city kid. He was born in a North-eastern city, and he’ll live here until it’s time for college. Stars don’t shine to brightly through the Somerville smog. Liam loves frogs and snakes, and he’s seen them, as part of school projects. One time in August, we saw an eagle perched on the roof on the Foodmaster; now that’s wildlife!
Now, I know Somerville nine-year-old boys. I know what they read, how they play, how they talk. I know what matters to them. And another thing I know is that only two fourth-graders of my acquaintance walk any further than around the corner without an adult to lead them.
These children are out there now, with two pairs of sneakers apiece. They have a week’s worth of underwear and socks We’ve packed them shirts to layer over shirts to layer over shirts , rain boots,, boots with treads, slickers and gallons of Purel. A parent whose child went on the last trip suggested that kids bring plastic bread-bags for kids to wear between=n their boots and shoes to keep their feet dry, so every kid has those. Liam also has two disposable cameras and a notebook too, and I hope he uses them.
Monday night, we got the call I know that other parents were dreading. Around 10 pm, Liam’s teacher called to tell us that Liam had thrown up his dinner. Rich food, she said, it he might have thrown up because the food was pretty heavy. Liam had no fever, but nobody could be sure of anything. We might have to come in the morning and pick him up, but we wouldn’t know until morning.
Jamie talked to Liam. He said our son sounded like a tired kid who had just puked; it was that simple.
I did almost cry. I did want to carry him home and take care of him, but that’s not the only reason I almost cried.
I’ll tell you one thing about my boy, he’s a puker. He’s been throwing up on me for ten years, so I know that it’s just the way he gets sick. Once it’s over, an hour later he might be feeling bouncy. I’m the same way, so I’m used to it; vomit doesn’t phase me.
What worried me was that he would be feeling fine in the morning and still get bundled off home. Two days in the house with a boy who had been robbed of splashing, shark-dissecting, and boy-craziness etc. wouldn’t bee any fun for anybody.
Jamie talked to one of the trip chaperones Tuesday morning. No fever, no cough, no rash; Liam would be staying!
I talked to Liam an hour later, and he still sounded depleted. He didn’t know what was for breakfast, and he wasn’t sure how much he’d eat. He’d seen a whole field covered in frost this morning, and that was the most amazing thing. Maybe city kids have little to compare a frosty field against, or maybe it was an amazing thing. I can’t wait to hear more.
He’s coming home today. Monday night might have fixed him in Choice Program lore as “The Kid Who Puked at Nature’s Classroom”, but I don’t think that matters. I hope the trip was worth having to have nausia sweep in 100 + miles from home. Who knows, “The Boy Who Puked” might be the hero of the trip; you can never tell with boys.
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