Three Little Birds

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Our students did a talent showcase this week for Black History month. Everything was going fine until we got to the the sing-along of Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds. We got to the first “Every little thing’s, gonna be alright,” and I had to rush out of the cafeteria in tears. And as I sunk down on the bathroom floor in tears, I realized that I so desperately wanted things to be all right.

I’ve spent the past six weeks pretending that everything was alright, because that’s what’s expected of me. Is anyone really prepared to hear my honest answer when I’m politely asked “How are are you doing today?” No. No one really wants to hear that. They want me to smile, teach my students, and not upset the balance of the school.

Not that I teach with uncaring people, it’s just that they feel helpless with my grief. There is nothing they can say. Sympathy is not the same as empathy, so all they can really do is give me hugs and condolences. What if they are thinking that to months has been enough time and that I need to move on?

The song is so simple, and that is its power.

Rise up this mornin’,
Smiled with the risin’ sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin’ sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin’, “This is my message to you-ou-ou.

Don’t worry about a thing,
‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right.
Singin’: “Don’t worry about a thing,
‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right!

Why did this trigger tears? I don’t know if I’ll ever know, but I think they might have been because I can identify with them so deeply. I think I’m going to have to make this the ringtone for my alarm clock. Who wouldn’t want to wake up to smiles and birds and reassurance?

Everything will be all right.

I have been getting better.

I have more good days than bad days.

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