Through the Glass

I awoke this morning alert, and ready.  Something I did not expect after a later than anticipated night last night.  I readied myself for work.  I left on time (for once) and even had time to stop at Starbucks and get my coffee and scone (the promise of which had lured me out of bed in the first place).   

I got to work a few minutes before I was required to be on the premises, my last.fm played good music all the way there, and I got a few last minutes things accomplished in the time before my presence was required in "Rise and Shine".  

Most of my children were already seated in the gym for our daily morning assembly.  They were being orderly, I felt good. It was going to be a good day.  We sang our Patriotic song, had a moment of silence, went through all the regular motions of the assembly.  Then, as is custom they began to play a song during dismissal.  As the music began to play and the sounds filtered down to me I froze.  My eyes instantly filled with tears and I  felt as though my heart were cracking.  Instantly all the repressed emotions, all those emotional memories from last year flooded through me.  

I was shocked, as were a few other teachers around me, that they had brought back the song.  Kindergarten had specifically asked them not to play it anymore last year, it was simply too hard to get through. 

The song is by Miley Cyrus (of all people) and rather innocently titled, "The Climb".  It was the song used to called the children to order at the beginning of Rise and Shine last year.  They lyrics sound innocent, inspiring even.  In the context of the events of last year though, they are heart wrenching.

  Particularly the refrain, "There’s always gonna be another mountain, I’m always gonna wanna make it move,
Always gonna be an uphill battle, Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose."

Innocent enough, true enough.  But when you watch a dying five year sing that song every day, and know the truth contained within those words they begin to lose their innocence.  When you know that another five year sang those words every day, all the while enduring abuse at the hands of his parents.  That he watched helplessly while they beat his little sister to death.  The words take on a meaning so much darker. 

Then there was my own personal lost battle.  The child I fought with and for every single day.  The struggle we endured to make it through each day.  The fight to get him what he needed, to teach him how to behave in society.  To teach him how to care for himself.  To clothe him.  To keep him clean.  To show him all the love he so desperately needed.  Only to lose him in an afternoon to a new home, a new guardian.  He sang those words every day.  Will he win the battle?  Or does he have to lose.  

It took a lot to shake it off this morning after that.  It took a lot to pull my emotions back and put the smile back on my face.  What I really wanted to do was find an empty classroom so I could cry.