Multiple years ago, I had the privilege to sit in the Vivint Smart Home Arena in Salt Lake City while Mark Hamill spoke to a large audience of convention attendees. For those who are unfamiliar with Hamill’s work, he is best known for playing the role of “whiny farm boy” in George Lucas’ 1977 indie film, “Star Wars.”
Hamill told the audience that the central theme of the Star Wars saga, at least for him while playing Luke Skywalker, is “growing up.” He explained that his performance was motivated by the idea that Luke would need a starting point in his journey, something that would leave the character room to grow as his arc progressed. So, the first time we see Hamill’s character, he is a naive teenager, dreaming of bigger things and living with his aunt and uncle. Soon Luke is faced with accepting the hero’s journey and ultimately forced to mature as a person. In the real world, I wonder how often we actually leave ourselves room to grow. I think we often get fitted with a “one size fits all” armor that we carry around regardless of if it’s too tight and unable to accommodate a growth spurt. For example, when I was in the fifth grade, I was asked to sing in a choir that was made up of students from all over the state. The songs were complex arrangements and only three students from my school were invited to participate. I practiced multiple times a week after school for months in preparation for the big concert that would take place on a Friday night with a live symphony and a big auditorium. (A real Yub Nub celebration if you can picture it.) I was excited and scared, but at the same time it felt like my pre-pubescent voice was destined for greatness. During that year, my fifth-grade teacher was the only male teacher in the entire school. He was exactly what you would expect a man named Collin to be like, or at least exactly what I expect someone with that name to be like. On casual Fridays he wore shorts and a jersey to class. He had a basketball hoop in his classroom and had everyone take turns making shots (to my horror). Sometimes he wore glasses and a clean-shaven face (a real Clark Kent vibe) and other days he had a beard (kind of a chubby Chris Pratt persona, before that was a thing). He was funny, which I adored, but he was also manly, which terrified me. My classmates planned to invite our teacher to the concert but the last thing I wanted was for him to find out that I did something I considered “feminine” like sing in the school choir. Somehow, I convinced them not to tell him and it was smooth sailing, at least until he called me out on it Monday morning and told me that he was disappointed he had missed the performance. This is just one example of a time I tried to squeeze into a “one size fits all” expectation of who I was supposed to be. It’s not even the earliest example I can remember, just one that persists in my memory. At the time, I was on the cusp of childhood and my tween years. While I was crushing on the teacher, I was also limiting my ability to grow. I felt like I had to be fully formed at all times and that my final form had to be what other expected of me. Honestly, even now years later I can’t entirely say for certain that I leaver room for myself to grow. I just wasn’t taught to do that, which is why as a foster parent, it’s going to be my main mantra for children in care. Sure, my husband and I are entering our fourth month without any word on a placement, but when that happens, regardless of age, gender, or any other defining characteristic, I hope I can show the child that even the heroes of the story don’t have everything figured out. Like Luke, Rey, Leia, or Anakin, sometime our life seems to be predestined by culture or lineage. Sometimes we have to atone for our parent’s mistakes. Sometimes the hero of the rebellion goes on to face his hubris and the parents need to be redeemed. Why? Because we are not stagnant beings confined to the limitations of the armor we wear. We are not clones born to fight for a cause, but rather we are like the Gungans, choosing to step up when our galaxy is at war. As a child in care, I know that their reality is always going to feel like they are a galaxy at war. The image they have of their parents will be forced to duel against the world’s expectations of parenthood. If they are the hero of their story, I hope I can be the wizard/hermit in the story that sheds light on their true potential. After fifth grade, I didn’t continue my passion for singing. I quite literally let my voice be silenced, at least musically. I eventually found my voice through writing and it has helped me work out my own expectations for myself ever since. For children in care, working to process their new starting point is an entire job stacked onto them. Their status as a foster child factors into their friend groups, their mental health, their familial ties, and more. Helping a child understand that they are so much more than their circumstances, they just have to leave themselves room to grow. -Erick L. Graham Wood [email protected]
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Erick L. Graham WoodHello there! Archives
June 2023
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