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Quote by Michelle Frost

“I was an owl in the darkness, looming over this black and white Dominican mouse with her little pink rodent hands working the old projector. I was a panther in short socks, teeth clenched and eyes fixed on my prey.”

Quote by Michelle Frost

Book:Rebel
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Rebel

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Michelle Frost

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“When children become teenagers, their feelings are often invalidated by others because they have a hard time expressing them. They can’t find the words to use so adults deem their emotions as a “stage of adolescence.” As a result, everything beautiful and raw about life is reduced to a phase they’ll grow out of. Although how often is our growth just abandonment? Some people don’t mature, they just run away from their problems faster than they used to and happen to age. We greatly underestimate the tragedy of leaving behind the unaddressed. Many of our most intuitive and sincere experiences are lost to time. It is one of life’s saddest deficits.”

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“La escuela nunca había tenido importancia para papá. Mamá nos plantaba y nos trasplantaba siguiendo el ritmo de sus diagnósticos y convicciones, mientras él permanecía en su universo privado, inaccesible, donde sus hijas entraban de vez en cuando como motivos pequeñitos de un cuadro mayor que sólo él conocía. Siempre había dejado esas decisiones en manos de mamá, que lidiaba guerras incomprensibles con los curas y las monjas de los colegios, alentaba rencores con padres y maestros de los que nosotras salíamos exiliadas a un nuevo círculo de desconocidos. Lejos de ser traumáticas, esas migraciones escolares fueron para mí como pequeñas excursiones en las que aprendí pronto el valor del anonimato; disfrutaba de sentirme al margen de los juegos de las otras niñas, de saberme transitoria en ese lugar. Conocer los ritmos y las formas de otras escuelas me hacía sentirme superior, más allá de las rencillas y miedos particulares que a las otras tanto podían preocupar. Intuía que el verdadero peligro era no saberse el guion o no ejecutarlo con suficiente elocuencia. Con una soberbia protectora que a veces se manifestaba como aislamiento y otras como esporádicos momentos de liderazgo, asombraba a mis maestras por mi capacidad de adaptación y de ganar nuevos amigos cuando para mí eran en realidad como los muñequitos troquelados en papel: perfectos en su mundo circular, todos iguales, todos descartables.”

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Book:Arte menor
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“There are two elevators. One is blue. One is red. When you want to go up, you take the blue elevator. When you want to go down, you take the red elevator. It’s that simple. It can’t go wrong! The blue one only goes up. And the red one only goes down.” And so, at last, Wayside School got elevators. A blue one and a red one. They each worked perfectly one time — and never could be used again.”

SchoolElevators
Book:Wayside School Gets A Little Stranger
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“I have a package for somebody named Mrs. Jewls,” he said. “I’ll take it,” said Louis. “Are you Mrs. Jewls?” asked the man. “No,” said Louis. “I have to give it to Mrs. Jewls,” said the man. Louis thought a moment. He didn’t want the man disturbing the children. He knew how much they hated to be interrupted when they were working. “I’m Mrs. Jewls,” he said. “But you just said you weren’t Mrs. Jewls,” said the man. “I changed my mind,” said Louis. The man got the package out of the back of the truck and gave it to Louis. “Here you go, Mrs. Jewls,” he said.”

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Book:Wayside School is Falling Down
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