Swan Song

My dad will roll his eyes at this post, for sure. Many might. Some scoff at my tendencies to fall into what could be called “magical thinking.” I explain seemingly mundane occurances as moments of reassurance that life is not just a random series of events. I build a case for life having order and a plan. One such moment occurred at the very end of my final year of teaching.

I helped with the middle school talent show and in the weeks leading up to the performance dates, I was assigned two acts to oversee in rehearsal, providing encouragement and feedback. Both of the students I was assigned were performing songs. The first was a sweet and self-assured 6th grader who sang Taylor Swift’s “You’re On Your Own, Kid.” She did a beautiful job with the song even in rehearsal. As she practiced singing the song through a few times with me, I found my mind wandering and connecting to the lyrics of the chorus.

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes
I waited ages to see you there
I search the party of better bodies
Just to learn that you never cared

You’re on your own, kid
You always have been

The song would seem to be about unrequited romantic love, but I connected with the idea of simply unrequited love, in general. And the lyric, “You’re on your own kid. You always have been.” hit close as I’m a child of very young parents who later divorced and pursued their own, new lives-sometimes without me. I certainly felt adrift and very much on “my own” as I made my way through childhood.

That all changed in 1992, however, when I started teaching at Vicksburg Middle School . I was surrounded by so much teaching talent and truly brilliant minds. This amazing community of educators brought me into their fold and saw in me all the talent I had always hoped was there. I could no longer tout being “on my own” as some sort of badge of honor because this powerful group of colleagues was unfailingly there for me through 30 years of ups and downs, including a struggle with infertility, my own divorce, and a massive stroke. They never stopped looking at me like I was someone special and that made all the difference. Their perception convinced even me.

So on the day of the actual Talent Show, I sat backstage and heard Taylor Swift’s song drift up and the chorus belted out by that courageous twelve year old. I blinked back tears and thought about how beautifully designed this moment was. Taylor’s lyrics sung by a 6th grader, the grade I’ve taught for years, pushed me to appreciate the amazing gift of love and belonging that had been given to me when I started teaching all those years ago. Magical thinking? Perhaps, but I’ll take that “Ta Da!” feeling from life anytime. It always leaves me speechless and asking, “Now, how’d they do that?”