Don't Stop Believin'

Over the past two years, the band Journey has been stalking me. Or, to be more specific, their rock anthem “Don’t Stop Believin’” has stalked me.

It started when my senior students voted to make “Don’t Stop Believin’” their class song. I figured that a ballad about a tawdry one night stand wasn’t necessarily the best selection to characterize high school, but everyone sang the chorus with such gusto, that I bit my tongue.

Later, my friend Susi noted that TV shows like Glee had resurrected the popularity of “Don’t Stop Believin’”.

“Oh, no!” I said. “Don’t kids know what the song’s about?!”

“You’re such an English teacher!” she laughed.

Yes, I am, Susi. Yes, I am.

My final battle with Journey came last week at Super-Duper.

Let me explain: In order to teach the principles of literary analysis, I designed a song analysis project. The assignment requires students to research their favorite song and present its meaning to the class. Everyone takes a turn, and it’s actually a lot of fun. Students unearth background information about the artist, provide the class with copies of the lyrics, and then we listen to the song. Later, the student presenter leads the class in discussion. For many students, it’s their favorite part of the course, and I’ve loved both the depth of discussion and the diversity of music.

You all know where this is going.

SOMEONE BROUGHT IN “DON’T STOP BELIEVIN’”.

When Tom (not his real name) started distributing the handouts, my eye landed on the title of the song. “Oh, Lord…” I muttered.

As students received their copy of the lyrics, a murmur of excitement buzzed across the room. “Oh, I LOVE this song!” a girl squealed. And from another: “This is my FAVORITE!”

Perhaps the best comment, however, came from Super-Duper’s all-star football player: “I say we all sing this song TOGETHER!” Everyone eagerly agreed, and I nearly died as thirty students in remedial English sang a rock ballad about anonymous sex: “A singer in a smoky room/ The smell of wine and cheap perfume/ For a smile they can share the night…”

Before long, however, the kids’ enthusiasm won me over, and after the first verse, I JOINED RIGHT IN.

“Look, Afram’s singing, too!”

Somehow, my participation encouraged them to sing even louder, and the chorus was practically deafening.

“Close the door!” I yelled. “I don’t want to disturb the other classes!”

In the midst of the earnest head-wagging and fist-pumping, someone shut the door.

Who says school has to be dull?