“Maya Gold can edit”. That is what I saw online on Google Drive, in our shared family folder. Those four words hurt. Maya Gold can edit. I reread them again and again, next to her little Gmail icon of an astronaut she used for herself. Her online presence still lingers like that, here and there I see traces of her address, her likes, follows, feeds, favorites.
And then the poetry of it hit me. Maya Gold has been doing a lot of editing lately. I am her biggest editing assignment ever. She has edited how I see the world, who I love, how I show it, where I go for solace and comfort. Oh, Maya, you beautiful editor of my world.
Maya was always an amazing writer. She was prolific and articulate, with a robust imagination and a good sense of irony to boot. For years when I taught digital storytelling to teachers, I would use one of Maya’s digital stories as an example. It was a lovely story about a dog who does not listen to his parents, and faces the consequences. “George and the Bone” was a morality tale of sorts, from a six year old’s perspective, with a little dig at her big brother built in as well. We did it together and she shared it in school. For a long time she loved that I used it as a sample in my classes for teachers. It was narrated in her voice with her artwork. Then of course the novelty wore off, and the self consciousness set in, and I had to be secretive about using it. But I still did; I just didn’t tell her anymore.
This Friday I will be teaching a group of teachers here in Mexico City how to make digital stories. When I looked through my course files, there it was, Maya’s digital story from 2005, George_and_the_Bone.mp4. Not yet, too soon to share with students, I decided. But I do want to share it here, with love. Maya made this with me in Kindergarten.
George and the Bone, by Maya Gold. Click the image to play.
No editing these tears here, now, pouring forth at the sound of her voice. Thank you for this treasure. Love.
Dear Mathew. So many times I want to respond to your and Elise’s posts, but need to collect my emotions first, and that can take days. Now I had to recover from hearing that precious little voice, as well. Being a NYC and LI resident all my life, Adin and Maya’s “accents” always struck me. I’ve been holding onto the way that Maya spoke my name, the “O” in Jody so distinctive to me. I didn’t want to lose her voice and now I never will. Thank you
Tears of joy and tears of pain for you and Elise and Adin.
Not only do you have an available record of Maya’s creativity and her understanding, at a young age, that mistakes are made and you can still move forward, but such a warm, confident and clear picture of her brother’s love and admiration for her. Not knowing either of them, it was a 3-dimensional gift to see and hear the story.
I admire your strength and honesty and ability to put one foot in front of the other and continue to move forward each day.
I am learning so much about life, thought, focus, etc. from you as I read your words, your feelings, your journey, Mathew. This reminds me how complex we each are. What you are learning from this journey with Maya, you are teaching all who will “listen”.
Thank you.