Teeny, Tiny Boxes

Children trapped in teeny, tiny boxes

Bouncing up and down, side to side

An eyeball fills the screen, a single eyeball lashed in wonder

Blinking away isolation – a 9 year olds energy compressed, framed by 90 degree corners

Troy substitutes his face with a plastic Sonic figurine – its blue, spiky hair pressing against the screen attempting to unsuccessfully transform 2-dimensional space into the soul’s longing for a 3-dimensional world

Shuttered-in Emma sits prim and proper – legs criss-cross applesauce on her pink, ruffled bedspread – reaching with adult-like professionalism to carefully unmute, share her thoughts, and mute again

Ryan’s right hand extends maestro-like searching for the reaction button, eyebrows raised in confusion, his left hand clutching his latest Lego creation

Jonathan unmutes himself and announces he has to pee while Ethan continues to ping-pong along the edges of his Brady Bunch square

TikTok dances zigzag across Alison and Michelle’s individual screens – “Renegade, renegade, renegade” – hands criss-cross, lift, and cross again, somehow their bodies in time with one another

Warren jumps in and out of his rectangular space – video feed mainly turned off – he fills the chat with lines of “e’s”

Stop spamming

“e”

Stop spamming

“e”

Stop spamming his annoyed peers type while the line of “e’s” continues

But my heart is happy he has joined us in the lattice of lines that separate and isolate

and yet mysteriously connect us all in teeny, tiny boxes.

(Notes – children’s names have been changed but all represent real students and their antics).