Cutting School for Community Service

How many times have I said to my kids, “school comes first?” So, how come they are sleeping in on this icky, rainy, March Wednesday despite the fact that due to a crazy standardized testing schedule and parent-teacher conferences, they’ve barely been in school this month?

Well, yes, school does come first, generally speaking, but sometimes there are other things that come up that are just as important and teach lessons that no classroom lecture or Smartboard presentation can.

My girls are Irish step dancers and the month of March finds them leaping and flying all over the state doing a series of what we call “dance outs” or shows to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. Some are gigs at pubs, dinner dances, civic group meetings, etc. and most of those take place at night and make the dancers feel like stars. However, many, maybe even the majority, take place at assisted living facilities or nursing homes in the late morning or afternoon. These performances are not glamorous. There’s no big stage on which they can strut their stuff, no fancy lighting or big sound system. Usually, there’s a square of worn linoleum surrounded by the tools of physical therapy that serves as their dance floor, and that unmistakable nursing home smell.

Make no mistake. My two girls are every bit as obsessed with cell phones, Abercrombie and American Eagle, boys, the Jonas Brothers, and text messaging as every other American teen or tween. But for some reason (maybe a little leprechaun magic) when March rolls around every year, they are able to shed all those trappings and give a little of themselves to make the elderly smile. I cannot tell you how it warms my heart as a mom to not only watch my girls dance their hearts out (that, for them is the easy part), but after the show, see them make their way carefully through a sea of wheelchairs and walkers to shake frail hands, accept hugs, or allow trembling fingers to touch their exquisite costumes. My normally quiet and reserved 11 year-old becomes animated as she answers questions about her hair (yes, it’s a wig) her costume (it was made in Ireland) and is generous with her smiles and laughter. My vivacious 15 year-old dials it down a notch and becomes patient and kind, looking deep into eyes that are clouded by cataracts or dementia and really listening to what her new “fans” have to say as they share stories, real or imagined, about their own histories as perfomers.

Should they be in school today? Probably. Will they pay the make-up price when they return tomorrow? Yup. But, these are life lessons and memories they will keep with them forever. Experiences I daresay will serve them better than the using the quadratic formula or memorizing the dynasties of China.

Until next time,

Joan

(c) 2008 Joan McCue All Rights Reserved