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  • We sit down on the industrial pile carpet at his day care. We've found a quite spot in front of a window and beside an unplayed, out of tune piano. I am thinking of ways to get Benjamin to pick up a pencil. Then hold the pencil. And then write with the pencil.

    This hasn't been an easy task and I understand why. He feels defeated and no good. This is what his second round of kindergarten has taught him.

    So, ok. Maybe we will start big. Really big. Super big. I ask him what his favorite word in the whole world is. If you could have just one word, what would it be?

    He says in a raspy voice "can".

    "Can?" I inquire. I really wasn't sure what kind of "can" he was talking about.
    "Can... like I can jump. I can throw my ball. I can run. I can do fun stuff," he says.

    I smile big. Really big, with big soppy wet eyes.

    "Yes, you really can. I know you can."

    Ok, so let's just start there.
    And I'll just sit back and watch you build the word "can" I say as I crack open a new tub of yellow Play-doh.
    We'll get to the pencil part later.
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