Tears

Tears are so mysterious. We approach them cautiously or avoid them fiercely. For the past several weeks as the quarter is winding down, I have noticed tears from some of my students. I walk into class and pass a student wiping tears away while talking on a cell phone in the parking lot. Later when she joins the class she sits quietly in a corner dabbing her eyes randomly.

On another day another student has runny red eyes and it appears that she will burst into tears if I call on her. I don't.

Another student waits patiently for the class to file out and then apologizes for the time she has missed. As I inquire about her circumstances, she unpacks a burden in the room with tears streaming down her face. She apologizes. She is sorry for exposing her tears.

I watch a documentary on the AIDS epidemic in Uganda. At an orphanage for chidren of AIDS victims that have died, the children stand around and sing a song. I am struck first by the antiphonal beauty of the melody, but then the camera focuses on on the faces of the children, many of them with tears rolling down their cheeks. The narrator explains that the song allows them to express their grief.

In my years of working with people, very few have not apologized for shedding tears. They need to be reassured that their tears are handled with sanctity. Tears are such mystery that we hold them in awe. Tears change the climate of a conversation. Tears are a nonverbal expression of such power that we try to control their very appearance. And yet tears can heal us. Tears can express sometimes, what we cannot verbalize.

I am reminded again that tears are not to be feared, but they are to be treated reverently.