I was talking with a 7th grader yesterday. Her family immigrated from S. Korea a few years ago and as such, she has a unique view of the world around her. "This is really a crazy week", she said. "The election was yesterday and today we have a recital." She was taking one final lesson before our Autumn Recital which was scheduled to begin in about two hours.
Regardless of your politics, this was an emotionally charged campaign and election. I can't imagine what it must be like to be a child surrounded by that. Particularly if your family is a guest in this country.
And then the recital. She was very nervous, as were all of the children. The recital is made up of children from first grade to high school. And everyone is nervous including the parents and me. I tell the children "I know you're scared, but so am I." And that is no exaggeration. I think I hold my breath for the entire event.
I watch each child as they take the stage. They walk up anxiously, sit on the chair, open their music and wait for me to tell them to begin. Then nervous fingers begin to produce a quiet, but lovely sound. The music they play wafts into the audience as precious gifts traveling on wings of hope. Their faces set in grim determination and singular purpose look, to all but a few, as faces of peace and serenity. But they're dying on the inside and can think of a million other places they would rather be. Then a moment or two later they've finished. They stand up, take a bow, and scurry back to their seats relieved that the dreaded moment is over and they've lived to tell the tale.
After everyone has played we make our way to where the treats are. Pictures are taken and happy animated faces recount their moments like old soldiers telling war stories. The families are not only very proud of their student, but a little surprised that their kid played so well. At our next lesson, many of the students will ask me when they get to do it again. Like a roller coaster or haunted house, they're terrified while it's happening but as soon as it's over they want to get back in line and do it again. One parent confided that it was the perfect cure for his "post-election hang-over."
My 7th grader also told me that her school was doing a special program on Friday to commemorate "Veterinarian's Day". I smiled and told her that it was "Veteran's Day". She laughed and said, "I always say that word wrong." Although she speaks English without any accent, it's still her second language. She went on to tell me that her choir was going to sing four patriotic songs. So I took advantage of the moment to explain to her the significance of the day and its origins as "Armistice Day".
During a quiet moment, as I drove home, I reflected on the previous hours. It occurred to me that it is entirely appropriate that the foibles of the adults is countered by music filtered through the eager and innocent hearts of our children.