The Mathematics of Love

 

… is something if you give it away, give it away, give it away.

Love is something if you give it away, you end up having more." 

 

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day— it’s time for Malvina Reynold’s song above. And a few million more with love as its theme. I’ve only had time to sing about five of them with the preschoolers and then the 1^st/2^nd grade at the SF School where I subbed yesterday, and then again with the 1^st graders at New Traditions: Love Somebody, You Are My Sunshine, Roses Are Red, Skinnamarink and the above. Such a grand pleasure! Made grander yet by my Orff-trained habit of always adding something a little extra. 

 

For example, “Love somebody yes I do (3x), love somebody and it might be you” is a pretty short song, helped a little bit by pointing at someone on the last word and then someone else the next time you sing. But I decided to create some new verses and teach a bit about traditional pronouns while awakening the kids’ rhyming synapses in the brain.

 

• “Love somebody, don’t you see… it might be me!”

• “Love some people, on a bus… it might be us!”

• Love a flower, leaf and stem… love some people and it might be them!”

 

You Are My Sunshine became an exercise in gesturing the words without singing—and then the same with singing. With a short commentary about the disturbing non-rhyme in the 1^st verse. “ I dreamt I held you in my arms… So I hung my head and I cried.” Huh?!

 

Roses Are Red was a lesson in beat, rhythm, contrasting rhythm and a color part. Patting the beat while reciting, clapping the rhythm of the words for the first three phrases, then a deep clap with cupped hands for the contrasting last phrase. Two snaps in the spaces between the phrases —or if you can’t snap, two kisses in the air. Then dividing the group into four, one of the above for each group, then switching off so by the end, all have played each part. For the coup de grace, pulling out rubber chickens and pigs to express each of the above. Have I mentioned before that I love my job?

 

Skinnamarink comes with its own motions and my only addition is a little tap dance interlude for the first two A sections and a Broadway finish ending.

 

Finally, Ms. Reynolds’ delightful lesson on the mathematics of love. I pull a penny out of my pocket, invite a child to step forth, give her the penny and ask the group how many pennies I have now. 

“0.” 

“How many does my friend have?” 

“1.” 

“So after I give the penny away, do I have more or less?” 

“Less.” 

“Excellent! You understand how math works! But there is another kind of math where if I give a magic penny away, I end up having more. Do you know what kind of penny that is?”

“LOVE!” they shout. 

First graders are so smart.

 

So off we go singing, including the next part:

“It’s just like a magic penny, hold it tight and you won’t have any.

Lend it, spend it, you’ll have so many,

They’ll roll right over the floor…”

 

Then I ask what other kind of magic pennies like that there are. And out pour other answers: “A smile. A hug. Happiness. Goodness.” Could we have these lovely intelligent and feeling children teach this math lesson to our politicians? To the people supporting politicians talking trash and filling the air with their hate speech? To the media folks and pundits making commentary without giving failing grades to these sorry math tests?

 

Happy Valentine’s Day!