Last week we read Amanda Gorman’s poem “The Hill We Climb” in my 7th grade English class, as we have done every year since she performed it at the 2021 inauguration.

The poem fits nicely in the middle of our unit on the Harlem Renaissance and falls within Black History month. Students learn about the historic nature of Gorman being our nation’s youngest ever inaugural poet. They learn about her life, her struggling with a speech impediment that made it difficult to pronounce the letter R, and how she practiced by singing the song “Aaron Burr, Sir” from the musical “Hamilton” over and over until she trained herself to make the sound the right way.  

Students hear about how Gorman experienced writer’s block while trying to come up with her poem, which many of them experience in my own classroom from time to time. They learn about the events of January 6, 2021, when insurrectionists invaded the US Capitol and attempted to stop the peaceful transfer of power from Donald Trump to Joe Biden, and how witnessing that horrific day play out on television jolted Gorman out of her writer’s block and inspired much of her poem. They find out why she chose her iconic yellow coat, and the backstory on the gold ring she wore that day, a gift from Oprah Winfrey and nod to previous inaugural poet Maya Angelou, author of the autobiography I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.

Then my students take turns reading Gorman’s beautiful poem aloud before watching video of her performance at the Inauguration. As a wrap up activity they share their reflections in writing about a “golden line” in “The Hill We Climb” that stood out for them and why.

This year was the fifth year in a row we have read this poem in my class, and it was a very different and somewhat surreal experience for me this time. I am always very careful to avoid sharing my own views when we have lessons that touch on politics, but as we read this poem Gorman delivered at a moment when our nation emerged from the first Trump presidency, my mind kept drifting toward what’s happening in the federal government right now.

Elon Musk taking a chainsaw to agencies that make our lives better, firing good people in the middle of the night. Donald Trump blaming Ukraine for its own invasion after having a heart to heart with Russian dictator Vladimir Putin. NYC mayor Eric Adams getting a brazen quid pro quo Get Out of Jail free card. All of it and so much more in the first month, and undoubtedly just the tip of the iceberg.

It’s a hard time to feel optimism in the United States.

But when I read some of the “golden line” responses from my students, I realized that the messages of hope and resilience that Gorman delivered that historic day still ring true, even in what many of us see as an exceedingly dark and hopeless moment.

One student said the lines

When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?

showed him there is hope in darkness.

Another noted the lines

We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover
and every known nook of our nation and
every corner called our country,
our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,
battered and beautiful

remind us that we still have the power to make the United States a better place.

One chose the section of the poem that says

We will not march back to what was
but move to what shall be
A country that is bruised but whole,
benevolent but bold,
fierce and free
We will not be turned around
or interrupted by intimidation

explaining it meant that in the face of injustice we do not have to back down–we must fight back.

And of course, many focused on the powerful, goosebump-raising close to “The Hill We Climb”:

For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it
If only we’re brave enough to be it

with one student saying “she is telling people to remember that there will always be hope and that hope is possible even in the hard and dark times.”

We have a long, difficult road ahead of us in this nation, but for today I choose to embrace Gorman’s same optimism that was so palpable in 2021.

Today I choose to believe that eventually we will emerge, battered and beautiful, and begin the hard work of putting the pieces back together.