January 14, 2008

The Quiet World of Ice Girl

We went for a walk in downtown Dallas yesterday, not for any particular reason other than to visit the Crow Collection of Asian Art, which Julie had been wanting to see for a while and which was within the budgetary range most suitable for the grand Rummel-Hudson estate. (Free, of course.)

After we made our way through the gallery, we took a stroll around the art-filled grounds of the Trammel Crow Center and came across an outdoor sculpture called "Men Against Man" (1968), by a Norwegian-American doctor and sculptor named Kaare Nygaard. (In a weird coincidence, Nygaard was the surgeon who treated Australian composer and nutbag Percy Grainger, whose music I like.) The sculpture depicts six uniformed and faceless figures (soldiers? policemen?) carrying a struggling prisoner by his arms and legs.

Schuyler was taken by it immediately.

She bent close to the prisoner's face (or what would have been his face if he'd had one), touching it gently. She held his hand. She walked around the sculpture several times, touching his feet and hands, but she was very careful to never touch any of the captors.

Finally, she stopped near the prisoner's head and stayed there. She touched his face again, tenderly and with great care, and put her forehead against his while whispering softly in Martian. As I tried to take photos as quietly as I could, she kissed his head and smiled sadly to herself. Finally, she simply rested her face next to his, giving him the same wordless comfort that she's always given to me when she knows I'm sad. When it was time to leave, she looked at him one last time, purposefully not recognizing his tormentors, and gave a little wave to him as we walked away.

Schuyler is an eight year-old girl, and much of the time she's not all that different from any other. She laughs, she plays, she watches Kim Possible on television, and she makes up imaginary scenarios for us all to participate in. (In her most recent story, she is a superhero named Ice Girl, and Julie and I are her co-horts, Ice Mama and Ice Daddy. I told her we could assemble an Ice Girl costume for her and she could come to my first book signing as Ice Girl. So, you know, watch for that.) Most of the time, Schuyler is just like any other kid.

But then, like yesterday, something else will appear behind her eyes, something a little dark and a little sad, but also wise beyond her years. When it does, Schuyler doesn't try to express it to us, but instead she moves through her world like a shaman. I watched her yesterday as she poured out her compassion and her sad love for the idea of someone suffering oppression, a concept that I doubt she could even express if pressed.

Schuyler is like any other kid you might meet, and Schuyler is like no one else in the world. In her mysteries (and she has so many), she is a puzzle and a source of immense pride. Schuyler is my most inscrutable enigma, and also my most perfect muse.


14 comments:

Anonymous said...

This post left me breathless, and in awe. Your daughter is remarkable, as is your writing.

Anonymous said...

This is a really touching post. Schuyler reminds all of us that words are not needed to show compassion. She continues to amaze me with her wisdom.

Linda Ball said...

Wonderful photo. I'm reminded of something my niece said in her annual Christmas letter trying to honestly describe her kids. About her eldest who is normal and yet somehow different (as all of us are) she said "he has the gift of compassion." Looking for each child's personality is important. Schuyler has that "gift of compassion," too. It transcends her problems.

Anonymous said...

What an amazing picture. What an amazing kid.

Niksmom said...

Lie Tobi, this left me breathless. Schuyler's capacity for compassion and her understanding of the dynamic of good and evil are so rich for one so young. Truly astounding.

Bev Sykes said...

The photo and its description moved me to tears. I don't want to make anything larger than it is, but I feel very blessed to have been "introduced" to Schuyler at her birth and to follow her growth. (And I rarely say "blessed" about anything)

Liana said...

Wow. Just, wow. That gave me chills. How beautiful, how heartbreaking...

Amie said...

This is a beautiful entry. I appreciate your sharing this story with all of us.

Anonymous said...

Wow, that photo, your daughter, there just aren't words Rob.

Iselyahna said...

God, that picture made my heart stop.

She is an amazing person.

Kathi said...

Yes, like a shaman. Watching her is something beyond words and I don't want to try to express it.

I don't think it's any accident you are a photagrapher, either. Thank God. :)

Susan said...

I was going to say that little girl will change the world some day, but then I realized that she probably already has...

woolywoman said...

Oh,I am totally tearing up at this post. What a wonderful child you are raising.

rennratt said...

Your child is a true blessing to all.

Thank you for sharing her with us.