My first year teaching was one dramatic event after another. I learned more that year about life than any other time other than when I worked in detention. But I digress.
So early in my first year teaching, my first-graders and I returned to our room from music class and immediately the phone rang. It was the music teacher, a 35-ish year veteran and wonderful model educator:
"Hi Mrs. Overman. I just wanted to let you know that today in music we sang a funny song about a little boy who choked on his bubble gum and died. All the kids thought it was just hilarious except for J. He cried for the rest of the class after that song ended. I just wanted to let you know."
"Okay, thanks, he's still crying. That makes more sense now."
If you've ever taught first grade, you know all traumatic events of any caliber must be addressed with a debriefing session, otherwise you may have some little ones who are traumatized for life and then parents call and it's messy. So we proceeded to organize ourselves into a community circle to discuss the situation. I opened the discussion:
"Well, I heard you sang a song in music class today..."
and was interrupted by another kid:
"YEAH, AND ONE BOY CRIED!!!!!"