Sarah Stillman
When I arrived at “Still Waters in a Storm” and saw the sea of small faces, I worried that maybe I’d chosen work that was too dark and mature for these kids: many in the group were six or seven, and I’d arrived to read them a story about the extortion of undocumented families by drug cartels? Stephen quickly assured me that this was a special group, one in which immigration’s realities weren’t glossed over but rather given full expression; he has made a habit of respecting the kids’ creativity, intuition, and intelligence on complex issues — no matter the age of the child, he expects their utmost — and they’ve responded by allowing those very traits to steer the wheel each Saturday afternoon. That’s exactly what took place. The kids listened deeply as I read to them about two boys from Guatemala who’d crossed the border alone, trying to reach their parents in New Jersey; they paused, throughout, to ask insightful questions. And best of all, they then wrote their own works of poetry and prose together, some of which I’m still mulling: about a man named Dollar Bill and his sidekick, Coin, who kidnapped two immigrant children to greedily extort their parents; about a painful incident in one of the children’s family past; about the simple question, “Why do people harm each other?” The kids’ creativity was so pure and deeply nurtured. The space of true contemplation Stephen has built up at Still Waters is remarkable — a reminder of how young people can be transformed by those who have faith in them, and, in turn, by the strength of their own smart questions.