End of Year Song

I started singing in my area’s Rock Voices choir a couple summers ago, and I noticed a phenomena, probably discovered by many already in similar situations. We start getting to know the music, and over the course of a couple months we really get to know it well we love it.  After a while we almost get to the point where we are tired of it, we have rehearsed and reahearsed and it becomes old hat. Then one night, the band joins us with drums, rhythm, guitar, keyboard, or whatever the season’s arrangement calls for, and everything changes. For a good week, the music is more alive than it ever was, because all our work rehearsing harmonies comes together with the amazing rock sound of the band on stage with lights and audience energy, and the high is amazing. Suddenly, unexpectedly for me the first time, there is a let down, which this week I realized is very similar to the end of school year emotions I have felt, observed, and heard from others.  

After the last note is sung, the band packs up, the risers are dismantled and I am home with my ears that have only recently stopped ringing.  The emotional let down is huge. We will never sing those songs with that exact same mix of people, and that same crowd energy again. In that moment, I don’t want to hear the songs on the radio or listen to part recordings any more, because they are such a pale version of the performance, yet I wish I could, because I don’t really want to let go of those songs that carried all that thick, rich emotional color into my life.  

The last day of school was yesterday for us, and I was noting how we were all, kids and teachers alike dancing an emotional line, between relief that the hard work is coming to a close for a while, and the anguish that we will never get that performance back.  Whether our kids have made progress, or we wish we did more, whether our relationships with the kids are strong, or we wish we built stronger ones, it is all done by the time we walk in the door on that last day. Sixth grade has sung their last song, and said their last official farewell.  

We will never teach the same lesson in just the same way to the same students and have the same effect.  That same kiddo will probably not ever call you “Mom” by accident again. The student who was a challenge all year, and you adored anyway, is often particularly and precariously balanced that day, somewhere between nervous/giddy and somber/tear rimmed.  All year and especially the last few weeks, we build up to that final “goodbye” wave to busses and when it is all over… a part of us wishes it wasn’t. A part of us wants to sing that song one more time with the band loud, and the crowd dancing and singing along.