I pushed it, again. I know I pushed it. The last week of the school year was thundering down when I started coughing. I pushed through; there didn’t seem to be any other choice. We are so close to the end and there’s too much to handle to take a day off.
It was the last day of school, there are 10 preschoolers ready to graduate, 30 or so parents, siblings and grandparents who have made plans to attend our Celebration. The presentation includes lots of songs, stories, and I woke up with laryngitis. Because, of course I did.
Naturally, I called in sick, postponed the graduation and rested at home. No, of course I didn’t do that. That would have been the smart thing to do.
I notified the families and went on with it.
The thing about preschoolers is that when you raise your voice, they do the same thing. One of the tactics I use to quiet and calm the classroom during the school year is whispering. So, the day, the one day, I really need them to speak up and sing out, I can only whisper. During our practice time, I try to lead them in singing the songs we’ve picked for the day. They are shaken by my non-voice; they’re response to my whispering by whispering their songs. Terrific, this is going to be fantastic.
And it was. One of the parents volunteered to read our favorite call and response story. One parent led a dance for us. When it was time to present the diplomas, she amplified my increasingly quiet whispering voice. And, it wasn’t what I’d planned, in a way, it was better.
Following the oddly, cheerfully weird ceremony. We shared a friendly final snack time with conversation and stories and, of course Cake.
And that’s what it’s about. Helping out, standing up together, speaking up for those who can’t, and cake.