The child is made of one hundred.
The child has a hundred languages, a hundred hands, a hundred thoughts,
a hundred ways of thinking, of playing, of speaking.
A hundred, always a hundred ways of listening, of marveling of loving
A hundred joys for singing and understanding
A hundred worlds to discover, a hundred worlds to invent, hundred worlds to dream
The child has a hundred languages
(and a hundred hundred hundred more)
But they steal ninety-nine.
The school and the culture
Separate the head from the body.
They tell the child to think without hands, to do without head,
to listen and not to speak, to understand without joy
To love and to marvel only at Easter and Christmas
They tell the child to discover the world already there and of the hundred
They steal ninety-nine.
They tell the child that work and play, reality and fantasy, Science and imagination,
Sky and earth, reason and dream
Are things that do not belong together
And thus they tell the child
That the hundred is not there
The child says: NO WAY the hundred is there--