Last week, I was telling my students about Johnny Cash — the musician who we were listening to that week — when I told them this story:
Johnny Cash died on September 12, 2003.
I found out about his death as I emerged from a cabin on a frosty morning at Camp Jewell — a YMCA camp in northwestern Connecticut. For 50 years, our school took out the fifth graders to the camp for 3-4 days and nights.
The vocal music teacher and my friend, Rob, had heard the news of Cash’s death, so for the rest of those days at camp, Rob and our instrumental music teacher, Andy, taught our students Johnny Cash songs and accompanied them on guitar.
When we returned to school, I began singing the song “Ring of Fire” into the microphone on the stage in my classroom because I love the song, and it annoyed my students to listen to me sing.
I’m not a good singer at all, but I can sing Johnny Cash songs fairly well.
They don’t demand much if you can sing in his register.
One day, Andy walked by my classroom and heard me singing. He popped his head in and said, “I’m going to teach the Wolkatz that song, and you’re going to sing it at Town Meeting.”
The Wolkatz were a select group of students who played music for our weekly assembly, which we call Town Meeting.
On the day before Christmas break, I took the stage at Town Meeting and sang “Ring of Fire” to the school, accompanied by a dozen or so student musicians who comprised the Wolkatz.
This was an unusual moment. Teachers don’t typically sing at Town Meeting, and I especially don’t sing at Town Meeting. But it was a blast. My friends laughed. My students cheered. A couple of sourpuss teachers glared at me as they are wont to do, probably wondering how I was allowed to perform this solo, but unhappy people can’t help but be unhappy.
Too bad.
Elysha was in the audience that day, sitting beside her students. We were dating and living together at the time, but I had yet to propose, and she feared I might be singing “Ring of Fire” to propose to her in front of the school.
First the song, then the actual ring.
Not exactly the most romantic way to propose.
Thankfully, plans for the proposal were already underway — on the top step of Grand Central Station in New York City — Elysha’s favorite building — while two dozen friends and families hid in the crowd and watched.
That proposal would take place ten days later.
As I told this story to my students, I became a little sad. It’s such a glorious and fond memory, but here’s the thing:
None of this could happen today.
We stopped bringing students to Camp Jewell in 2019. The pandemic was the initial reason, but after the pandemic subsided, Camp Jewell remained a thing of the past because, as with all things we take away from students, it was easier for adults to stop bringing kids to camp.
My stage, where I first sang “The Ring of Fire” to my students and was noticed by Andy, is also gone for no earthly reason, except that for certain adults, it’s easier to keep it out of my classroom.
And the Wolkatz era also ended when our instrumental music program was gutted and the time dedicated to it was stripped away.
Most importantly, nothing has ever replaced these three things. We simply made the school day less exciting, less engaging, and less memorable for kids, mostly because it made things easier for adults.
I’ll remember those days with great fondness as my heart breaks for my students today.
