Moments on Mute

Meagan Gibson

Description

Based on a true story and written in free verse poetry… Maggie Harris is a small-town girl with a unique imagination. When Maggie’s teacher notices her creativity and curiosity, she is placed in the Talented and Gifted program at school. In Maggie’s imagination, amazing things are always happening. In her reality, Maggie has a serious problem. She can’t read like the other kids her age and has no idea why. She’s smart, and smart kids can read, right?

Maggie tries her best to keep people from finding out her secret, hoping that her problem will go away on its own. She doesn’t want to tell her mom, who is always reminding her to make good grades and do her best. And she definitely doesn’t want to tell her annoying older brother, who’d just find a way to embarrass her. What if Maggie’s best still isn’t good enough? Would her friends understand? Would anybody understand?

With each year bringing new challenges, Maggie tries harder and harder to hide her secret. But what happens when someone finds out?

Sujets

• Fiction Jeunesse
• General
• Disability
• General officer
• Juvenilee Fiction
• Disabilities

Informations

• Publié par: Outskirts Press
• Date de parution: 28 janvier 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781977265029
• Langue: English

Extrait

-->

Moments on Mute All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2023 Meagan Gibson v4.0
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Outskirts Press, Inc. http://www.outskirtspress.com
Cover Photo © 2023 www.gettyimages.com . All rights reserved - used with permission. Illustrated by Julia Andrzejewska
Copyright Registration Number TXu-280-557
Outskirts Press and the "OP" logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Dedicated to my friends and family, Who encourage me to never give up And to look on the bright side
Preface
Everyone, no matter their age
Intelligence or ability

Has moments when they
Just don’t understand
Something is missing

It seems that everyone else
Knows what is going on

I didn’t realize
Until I began my training as a
Certified Academic Language Therapist

That I was just like my students with dyslexia
Struggling to read but loving to learn
A curious and imaginative mind
But confused by familiar symbols

I tried to hide it
Working hard
To prove my intelligence
But remained afraid

Someone would discover my weakness
As life began to be more complicated

My struggles remained
I tried to capture the moments
Of my journey
Even the ones on mute
Table of Contents
The Harris Family: First Impressions
Preschool: Time of Discovery
First Grade: Instances of Love and Admiration
Second Grade: Moments of Connection
Third Grade: Trying the Samples
Fourth Grade: A Change of Pace
Fifth Grade: Moving On
Sixth Grade: Finally
Appendix: Ask the Author117
The Harris Family: First Impressions
Opening Credits
My favorite TV sitcoms
About families
Started out the same
The upbeat music began

A view of the big city
Cut to a neighborhood
Then a man began to sing
As each member

Of the family
(In different areas
Of a two-story home)
Would one by one

Stop whatever
They were doing
To smile at the camera
While their names

Would be displayed
In all caps.
Although
I had practiced

My smile many times
Introducing you to
My family
Will not be

Anything like that.
Start Here
In the second biggest state,
In a small town
Quiet neighborhood
Street so round

Three bedrooms, home to five
Last but not least, one girl inside

Nothing extraordinary
My name, two syllables
So forgettable, one I had to claim

People have stories
But it takes time
To figure out
The lyrics

Now, I’m no musician
I can’t play one thing
Believe me, I’ve tried.

My singing is up for debate
But you don’t have to be
Anyone special

To feel, to love
To live …music

And the lyrics
Words united
Together to tell
A story
My Name
Maggie
So simple
Chosen by my brother
In the middle

It was familiar to him
One I had to learn

It means "pearl"
Like in the mouth
Of an oyster

Or a clam at the bottom
Of the ocean
So big and blue

After it gets
Irritated
In defense
Forms a pearl

Without a clue
That my name
Would mean
The same

As my birthstone
When I belted out
My first note
On cue
Mama aka Ruth
Pat-a-cake
Pat-a-cake

Moving hands
Rhyming words
No music needed
Just laughing

Clapping when
We’re done
Because we did it
Together

Once the moon comes up
And eyes get heavy
She rocks and sings
A soft song
A lullaby

Head next to her heart
The beats that keep time
Drifting off
Till the next day arrives
Big Man aka Ray
"Sittin’ on the Dock"
What is a dock?
He loved that song
Never seen him sit on one

He sat at the head
The head of the table
Eating, laughing, talking
Everyone together

Don’t remember
Each verse exactly
But I remember
The mood

The mood of his song
His song was happy
And sad
At the same time

The only one I rode
Through our house
"Giddy up"
On his back

I could see
Long distances
On his shoulders
Taller than I’d ever be
Brothers
Both older
Much older
In the room
Next to me

Confusing boys
Jumping off
Bunk beds
Wrestling

Some sounds
Not melodic
Just yells
Them jumping around

Very different
But still
Attached
By that last name

Same place
Same time
Different tempos
Different beats

Together
Just long enough
To miss you
When you leave
Preschool: Time of Discovery
Hop Out
We pulled up
To the familiar building
Unbuckle and give a kiss

"Have a great day!"
Or "Be good, Maggie"
With promises to return

Waves to miniature people
Just like me, learning melodies

Learning to play and pretend
To be a grown-up

Singing letters
Counting songs
Playing house
And sharing

Lots of things
Forgotten now
Some I still remember

Using your body
To express the words
Like deep and wide

Made me laugh
Like Mama did
Before she
Commuted to work
Rumble
Bleachers shaking from the vibrations
Feet repeatedly stomping the cement

Quickly the rumble intensifies
Through each section of the crowd

Fans hoping for the numbers
On the scoreboard to continue in our favor

Friday night- the community
Focused on players in helmets

Meanwhile I was intrigued
And amazed by the real champs

So brave to fly in the air
Land with a smile, shaking pom-poms

Stadium lights
Family and friends
Full of excitement
Yelling and cheering

Placing my silver whistle
With a red fuzzy pom-pom on the end

In my mouth, and blow
In the band on the other end

Of the stands
My oldest brother, John,
Blows his instrument too
First Grade: Instances of Love and Admiration
My First-Grade Teacher
Mrs. Stevens was old, very old
So old, she was the principal’s mom

One day, she handed me
A paper with just a black spot

Just like every other kid
She asked us all to make a picture
From the strange shape

I still remember that spot
Became a dinosaur egg

Surrounded by extinct creatures
Of various sizes, all fascinating

If I could hear them, I’m sure they would
Have roared through the page

But they didn’t
They didn’t warn me
This was a test to group me

After that, a lady came
To take me to another room

TAG, not a game
But Talented And Gifted
Changed my life
The Lady Came
Mrs. Jordan came
And called for TAG kids

And we walked along the boardwalk
To be with her and explore

Beanbag chairs, tables
A water fountain right there inside

Our own little space
To learn, to think, to dive

And I learned
Princes and kings
Were real
And the tale of the Pied Piper

And the songs
They were different
Some instruments never heard
Or seen before

Words as funny as the jester
In the book she displayed

Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose
Will I ever see thee wed?
Singing the same words
At different times
… A round
Not for Long
She kept us
For a limited time
Together exploring

She had to bring us all back
To our original rooms

Mrs. Stevens,
Sitting at a table
In the corner of the class

Called my name
I walk slowly to meet her
And the others

We turn the pages.
With enthusiasm
She says, "Let’s read!"

Together is something
I can manage page by page

I don’t know all
The words,
But with us together
I can mimic the melody

Like the nursery rhymes
And the chants
Kids say as they
Jump rope
Turn It Off!
We unplug almost everything
Radio, TV, lamps and more

’Cause we’re leaving
Just for a while
We’re taking a trip
To the state next door

That’s where my parents
Were born and raised
Where more family dwell

In the evening, the engine starts
And we drive through the night

Daddy, behind the wheel
Singing and laughing
B.B. King in the speakers

Mama on the passenger side
Passing back snacks
For us all to eat

Brothers in seats separated by a table
Making fun of each other
And asking questions

And me, in the backseat
The biggest seat
Watching trees
We pass by so many
When I Saw Her
My grandmother
My mama’s mama
She was the best
A feeling of comfort

There was no need for words
To her song, no lyrics

Just a soulful hum
As the oil sizzled in the pan