The tiny child grabbed the golden crayon with her left hand, and her teacher smacked it with a ruler. “Use your right hand”, she griped.
The tiny child wrote with her right hand, although it didn’t feel quite right.
The little boy placed barbie in her pink jeep, and began to drive her and Ken to the beach. His father kicked the jeep into the wall and said, “Boys don’t play with dolls”.
The terrified boy listened.
The advanced child ran to her teacher, exclaiming that she had found the answer to the math problem, but not the way she had been instructed. The teacher tore her paper, and told her to “follow instructions”.
The girl lost all hope for her own innovations.
The twelve year old boy drew a comic strip, and, with excitement, showed it to his peers. They laughed at his drawings and dialogue, telling him he was “just as stupid as his dumb cartoons”.
The boy lit them on fire and never drew again.
The fourteen year old girl went for a mile long run in spandex and a t-shirt. Someone saw her and told her she looked “too fat to run in public”.
She quit exercising altogether.
The girl thought that her handwriting was better with her left hand.
The boy didn’t think barbie was any different than his power rangers.
The girl was simply trying to find a more efficient way to do the math problem.
The boy wanted to create neat cartoons that expressed his feelings.
The girl just wanted to feel accepted.
Her handwriting was better with her left hand.
Barbie and the power rangers were all dolls.
Her method was more efficient than the teacher’s.
He created awesome cartoons, but his peers didn’t understand his feelings yet.
The girl never felt accepted.
None of their lives became what they were meant to come.
Killing the dreams of another does not revive the dreams that were once killed by someone else.