Creativity and Spirituality with Joel McKerrow

Month: August, 2017

Just another classroom…

She spoke of the pressure to stand in front of the mirror and she broke. Eloquent words tripped over closing throat. She wept on the stage and then…the class held her.

The next told of her sisters anorexia and the class held her.

The next of the rape and the class held her.

Three school girls stood before their peers and the tears fell like the clouds were crying and none of us chose to lift umbrella. It was their tears and it was my own and it was the other teachers and it was half of the students. A downpour. Dancing in this kind of rain is a new experience altogether. This slow movement toward our freedom. A moment I shall not forget.

It is why I do what I do.

It is what I have given my life to.



Finding Myself

And so the girl hands me her grief

and it is mountain. And all I want is to wrap her in the silent spaces and tell her that nothing that loud shall drown her in fear ever again. But I cannot lie. I cannot deaden the sound of a violent world.

Yet I do know that there is a silence that hides inside.

And I do know that it waits for her to find it.

And I do know that even in the midst

of all the noise and the yelling

that she might stand silent and strong.

I know this because there is a silence in me too.

I offer it to her.

Forgetting it is not mine to give away.

It is part of me as her silence is part of her.

So I turn to my silence

in hopes that she too may turn to her own.


If her fear is mountain.

Her silence is ocean.

Her peace is a river.

A constant flowing.

A carving through valley.

An erosion.

She shows me the pages of her journals

and they wash over me like wave

and I sit in this car and the salty tears

meet the salty water of her words and I realise that if she is an ocean than I am one too. And I know the mountain that looms within me and I weep these tears till the ocean tides rise and my mountain looks more island than unclimbable. And so I tell her…

“Look at me. I am finding myself too brave girl. I am finding myself too. Only the brave ones do.” I tell her, “only the brave ones do.”