Pride

I really don’t know what it is about the Elementary school’s “Pride” song that gets me so worked up, but I get teary every time. The chorus goes like this:

“I am proud of who I am
proud of where I’m going
proud of what I’m doing.
My life is my life,
I have the power to be.
I can reach my own brass ring,
and pull it for me.”

Forgetting the fact that most kids probably don’t understand the brass ring reference without it being explained, this is powerful stuff. WHY, I always wonder, through my tears, does it get me so much? Is it the fact that these affirmations are ones I am only beginning to truly believe at the age of 36? The fact that my schooling, especially my elementary years, installed the exact opposite belief in me? The interrelatedness of these two facts?

There is something so earnest, so honest, so immediate and present about elementary school. I am only beginning to really appreciate it, to accept the kids’ hugs and the open hearts from whence they come. Teaching elementary school has cured me of some of my cynicism; not all, mind you, but some. It’s hard to be cynical when a wide-eyed 6-year-old refugee student runs at you with a hug every morning. It’s easy to get used to that hug.

I have the power to be. I hope that my time with them has conveyed to my students that I believe in their power to be.