Most of adolescence, I think, has to do with crossing the lines in the
sand. Puberty and its henchmen create
within you a fear of self; fear of being exposed or being seen as weak. The bullies and the quick-witted critiques
circle and roam the halls scouring every inch of the place for some
well-greased grist for their mills. Kids
dwell deep within their own conspiracy theories. Their worlds are closing in and many are out
to get them. The worst part of this
conspiracy theory is that it is, to varying degrees, completely true.
Thousands of thirteen year olds are up on deck, waiting for a dose of
torment and ridicule. Sadly, this
inner-demon-conspiracy-theory runs counter to one of life’s greatest
truths. Fortune favors the bold. The bold rise quickly in this little
blood-thirsty ecosystem. Don’t confuse
them with the arrogant. The bold and the
arrogant are two different beasts. The
arrogant rule self-created social ladders that whimsically rise and fall from
hour to hour. And the arrogant fall from
grace like one-hit-wonders descending down pop charts. The bold are those that realize how
unimportant it all is. So? They sing their song. They make their moments. They let their freak flags fly…within the
confines of the law and the regulations of a school zone, of course. They start to hone their inner grit, getting reserves
ready for the road ahead.
Any chance I get, I encourage some boldness. Small bits of boldness at every turn. So when my seventh graders asked if they
could present their song lyric projects for extra credit, I agreed. Boldness in small doses. Song lyrics are personal. Letting yourself go a bit in front of a room
ripe with potential taunts and teasing all while social death looms, carries
with it a certain amount of boldness.
“What if we sing the song?” I
jump on this.
“If you come up and sing thirty seconds or more of your song, no music
behind you, then extra credit is yours.
No questions asked. A move that
gutsy must be encouraged.
The day comes, and my brave singers have all vanished. It looks like fear has won the day yet again.
But sometimes, if you ask a couple of
times, downplay the importance, and sit in some awkward silence for a bit, a
few will rise to the call. Someone did.
“I’ll go,” was all he said, and he bolted out of his chair. He is a socially awkward little guy. Great kid, but I’m guessing he’s had his
share of taunts hurled at him. He stands
in front. Baby fat still fills his
cheeks. Nerves bubble up in his
eyes. He clears his throat and breaks
into Rick Astley’s, “Never Gonna Give You Up.”
No irony. No apology. This is clearly a fan of the over produced
late eighties classic.
His momentum builds. He is
barreling towards the chorus like he can’t wait to get there. And I notice just a hint of movement. If you look closely, he is dancing. Most of it is done in mini-moves and on the
down-low, but he is dancing.
Technically, he is now singing and dancing. A middle school is no place for a
self-proclaimed song and dance man, but it is a great place to make a moment
and move on. The chorus hits and he
pumps up the volume just enough to drown out the occasional snicker. And then, a handful of kids recognize the
song. Back-up singers pop up throughout
the room, allowing every kid to push back a little on the conspiracy
theory. Fortune opens up and shines a
little light on my awkward friend. He finishes
a little bit winded from such a big display of public emotion. He gets a roundhouse thunderous standing
ovation. And he’s not done.
For his encore, he explains that he chose the song because it is his mom’s
favorite and he likes how happy it makes his mom when she hears it. He likes when she smiles. What an encore. In a world mired in “Yo Mamma” jokes, he has
just implied love and devotion for his mom.
And true to any boy band encore, the girls swoon at his unabashed
display. I give him a nod.
“Well played, sir. Well played.” The taunts, the teasing, just like their
bullies, fall easily when confronted by a bolder opponent.
He walks back to his seat a
little taller, exuding more confidence.
Rick Astley took the song to number one on charts all over the
world. But, anybody can do that. Try singing the song acapella in a middle
school classroom while professing love for your mom. Now that’s something much harder to pull
off. That truly requires a bold move.
If you're enjoying the blog, here's a book I recommend. "Our Kids: Building Relationships in the Classroom," is available at Amazon.
