The story behind this song
Two stacks of papers on the kitchen table every night — ours on one side, three hundred other kids' on the other, the red pen moving between them while dinner cooked on the stove. We learned to share her. At the market, grown adults would light up saying her name: she never gave up on me. We'd just smile, because at home she was only Mom.
Forty years of that double shift, and now the red pen finally goes in the drawer.
For both the kids who got her name and the kids who got her days, standing up to clap at once.
Lyrics
Two stacks of papers on the table
Ours and theirs — you never mixed them up
Ours and theirs — you never mixed them up
You graded tests beside my long division
Red pen in one hand, dinner on the stove
Three hundred kids a year called you their favorite
We had to learn to share you — now we know
Red pen in one hand, dinner on the stove
Three hundred kids a year called you their favorite
We had to learn to share you — now we know
Two classrooms, Mama — one had desks
And one had us
And one had us
You taught two generations how to stand
The ones who got your name and the ones who got your days
Forty years of lessons, double shift of love
Put the red pen down — class is finally out
You taught two generations
The ones who got your name and the ones who got your days
Forty years of lessons, double shift of love
Put the red pen down — class is finally out
You taught two generations
We'd run into your students at the market
Grown adults who lit up saying your name
"She never gave up on me" — we'd just smile
'Cause at our kitchen table, you're the same
Grown adults who lit up saying your name
"She never gave up on me" — we'd just smile
'Cause at our kitchen table, you're the same
Two classrooms, Mama — and not once
Did either feel like less
Did either feel like less
You taught two generations how to stand
The ones who got your name and the ones who got your days
Forty years of lessons, double shift of love
Put the red pen down — class is finally out
You taught two generations
The ones who got your name and the ones who got your days
Forty years of lessons, double shift of love
Put the red pen down — class is finally out
You taught two generations
Now I catch myself with my own kids
Saying things you said to yours and me
"Sound it out. You've got this. Try again."
Your classroom never closes, Mama — see?
Saying things you said to yours and me
"Sound it out. You've got this. Try again."
Your classroom never closes, Mama — see?
You taught two generations how to stand
The ones who got your name and the ones who got your days
Forty years of lessons, double shift of love
Put the red pen down — class is finally out
You taught two generations
The ones who got your name and the ones who got your days
Forty years of lessons, double shift of love
Put the red pen down — class is finally out
You taught two generations
The bell has rung, the books are stacked
And both your classes — we're all clapping
And both your classes — we're all clapping
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