My Name is Amadou

I have met my muse. He is a six(?) year old first grader in one of my classes. So he is definitely not my muse in the creepy sense, but rather his story inspires me so much.
I met Amadou in Emmanuelle's class. He sits right up front, to the right of where I stand. He is very enthusiastic, sometimes to the point of losing control and disrupting (like yelling or whatnot or being spastic.) When I need him to stop, I always tell him I am happy he is so enthusiastic about English, but that I need him to control himself so we can keep learning.

Last week I learned that Amadou came from Africa in the middle of last year. In fact, his aunt, who lives in France, came to Africa to get him. Then later his mom joined them in France. They left behind his big sister.

Furthermore his mom is an illegal, and could be deported any day.

Imagine your mom telling you: so this lady is going to come and take you far away. You have never met her, but she is my sister.
So you go with her, far far away. And wait for your mom.

Then can you imagine: living in third world Africa and then going to Europe? It's a big change, electricity, water, lights, cars, different clothes, different language and customs? Not to mention how goshdarn cold it is here this week (below freezing).
I can't imagine what this little boy went through/ goes through.

I also worry about the sister left behind.

I would love to write down his story from his point of view and include his original artwork and convince one of my illustrator friends to do artwork of his mom and him, and then try to publish it.

However I imagine these are painful things to talk about for Amadou, and I imagine even less that his mom would let him for fear of repercussions in the form of the French gov deporting her.

If I could get them to agree and find a publisher, I would take 30% (my cut for the work of publishing/writing/paying my friends' for their artwork). Of the 70% of profits left I would give half to Amadou's mom and put the other half in a trust for Amadou for when he is an adult.

In this Presidential election year, often the debate moves to illegals and their "drain" on the system. What kind of spoiled, ungrateful people are we then? Unaware of how good we have it, and unwilling to share?

Amadou did not ask for any of this. His mom just wants a better life.

So what do you think? Should I pursue writing "My Name is Amadou"?