Big Bird’s Nest

 

It is hard in the face of others’ distress and sorrow and suffering, as has been the case this past week with a hurricane wreaking havoc from Port-au-Prince to the Rockaways, to know just what to say. And perhaps it is best not to talk at all, except to express one’s presence and one’s compassion. Furthermore, as a young student reminded me a few days ago, finding the right words is good, important even, but taking action, or reaching out, to borrow the wonderful expression which everyone who moves to New York City soon learns, is much, much better.

So amid the upheaval and tragedy of this past week, I do have a thought which I wish to share with you, which for the duration of this post will manifest itself in language, but I then have every intention of turning it into some sort of service, of getting out there to help in some way, like so many members of our community have already done. I had better do so or I will disappoint my daughters, or, should I say, two of our students, for they both attend our school.

Big Bird on WNYC

If I mention my own children, I do so because I had a conversation with one of them this week which has stayed with me since, a conversation about Big Bird’s nest. I myself missed the Brian Lehrer Show on public radio when it ran last Tuesday, the day after Sandy’s passage through New York City, on which this subject was raised, but my youngest daughter did not. WNYC was live-streaming in our apartment and she must have been listening to the interview Mr. Lehrer was conducting with that beloved Sesame Street character called Elmo (and child psychologist Dr. Rosemary Trulio, also from this cherished children’s program).

 

From what my daughter told me late that night, once I had returned home and discovered her awake, Elmo had reported that Hurricane Sandy had destroyed Big Bird’s nest. To be precise, the Lehrer interview with Elmo, to which I would encourage you to listenalluded to a Sesame Street episode about hurricanes that had nothing to do with Sandy, but my youngest must have presumed it did:

 

“Thank goodness for community service”

“Big Bird’s nest was destroyed,” she whispered to me across the darkness of the bedroom she shares with her older sister, as I quietly peaked in. “But don’t worry, Dad,” she said. “Community service will rebuild it”. “Community service?” I asked, sitting down for a moment on the edge of her bed, gently tucking in a cover and smoothing a sheet while I listened. “Yes, Dad, community service will rebuild it,” she whispered again. “Don’t worry, Dad”. “Thank goodness,” I had just enough time to respond before my daughter drifted off into sleep, as if she had waited up so long just to convey that message. “Thank goodness for community service.”

To my mind, this scene, embodying such purity of hope, such optimism about the world, is also an extraordinary call to act, to embrace our fellow human beings, which any of us associated with the magical world of grade school education might well have experienced this past week, under siege from the elements. The wind can howl, the water can rise, the windows can shatter, and yet, our students would say (and I would like to think the education they receive at the Lycee Francais helps to shape this conviction): by reaching out to one another, whether we believe Big Bird is an animal living on Sesame Street or an actor in a feathery costume (and my youngest does understand he is the latter, as she explained the next morning, making her reassurances to me even more forceful), we can overcome!

Nb. In addition to the messages you received from school and our parents’ association on Friday, more information about our storm-related relief efforts will follow. In the meanwhile, an excellent place to learn about immediate service needs is the Facebook page for NYCService (www.facebook.com/nycservice). You can also send an email to nycservice@cityhall.nyc.gov), including your address and availabilities.


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