by Michelle George
I have to admit I felt more Humbug than Hallmark this holiday season. It seems the pressure of trying to get everything Martha Stewart perfect was bringing out the Grinch in me. I think it was even harder for my students.
I teach in a school with the Free/Reduced Lunch count hovering around 70 percent. The ubiquitous canned joy of the season and unfulfilled promise of all things material seems to fuel anxiety for many of our kids. The days preceding break were especially tense, and writing essays was the last thing on their minds. I was feeling discouraged until our final day, when our principal planned a day of affirmations. It was perhaps the best gift I received.
We started the morning with a pancake breakfast prepared by the staff. We set up tables around the perimeter of the lunch room, manned by teachers, aides, and support staff. Each table had a griddle, and we served up hot pancakes with a variety of toppings—from fruit to chocolate chips and peanut butter syrup. The students ate and socialized for a full hour. No one got bored or rowdy or troublesome. It was like a noisy family breakfast … a really, really big family.
The drama class presented its holiday production as a post-meal attraction. The actors were spot on, and the audience was warm and receptive. Kids laughed at the appropriate times, and responded with sincere applause after each skit. The choir followed drama. I was in charge of filming, and I was struck by the carolers’ stark faces. They looked just past frightened and bordering on terrified.
Our school is proud of its athletics, but doesn’t always show the same deference for the arts, so the performers weren’t sure what to expect. It wasn’t until the third song that their countenances changed. The choir was singing an upbeat holiday tune with complicated harmonies when a student in the audience started clapping to the beat. The clapping quickly spread, and soon the entire room was keeping time and swaying to the music. The response was transformational. Each singer’s face seemed to animate as smiles broke out and bodies relaxed. The singing from then on sounded even sweeter.
The staff was on stage next with a song and dance that made the choir look all the more polished, but the students were generous with their laughter and applause. It was the next act that really brought the holiday spirit home for me. Three young men took the stage with a guitar, a ukulele, and a box drum. The lead singer took off his shoes center stage and nestled his toes into the carpet scrap he had placed on the floor and began singing. He crooned Indie ballads with a James Taylor feel, and the crowd stilled.
After the first couple of songs, the lead singer set aside his guitar and brought out a small rice pot. In Teen-ease he explained how he’d been thinking about all the kids in this wide world that don’t have enough to eat. He explained how filling the pot with pocket change could feed a child for a month. He planned to leave the little pots in the classrooms for a week or two so everyone could have the chance to make a difference in the world. Then he packed away his little pot and picked up his guitar again to continue the impromptu concert.
The students sat still on metal lunch table benches for the entire time, clapping and swaying, and feeling fine. And I was once again reminded of the promise embodied in our amazing students. Stress and anxiety seem to be an inherent part of our modern holiday experience, but I received a refreshing gift that day: the gift of hope and reassurance for today and for our common future. Ebenezer would be pleased.
Michelle S. George is a language arts middle school teacher in Orofino, Idaho. She has a B.A. in English and secondary certification in English, reading, and journalism. Michelle has been teaching seventh and eighth grade for 20 years, and still loves going to school, as a teacher and a student. She has published a variety of lesson plans and written several award-winning grants.
