I do it, and I do it big. Here's to not forgetting about it.

Posts tagged ‘music teacher’

The Show Must Go On.


Can’t what, you ask? Stay in the bed, as I wanted to do. There was a Veterans’ Day Assembly at work and naturally, the music teacher was on call. On the program today: a 1st grade class singing America and This Land is Your Land, and a Kindergarten class matching with flags to The Stars and Stripes Forever. 

I first went into the first grade classroom to do a quick run through with them. I smiled as they stood up and faced the American flag, excited to represent their school in front of the entire student body and the guest veterans. I kept it together as they sang America, but as soon as they started bouncing cheerily for This Land is Your Land, tears came to my eyes. The simple lyrics of the first verse: 

This land is your land

This land is my land 

From California

To the New York island

From the redwood forest 

To the gulf stream waters 

This land was made for you and me 

You. And. Me. 

I love that I teach an ethnically diverse group of students, each of whom sings enthusiastically and believes in that America. Each time they come to my classroom, they stand and face the flag giddily, prepared to start, sing, and end together prior to the beginning of that day’s lesson. Whenever I teach them their patriotic song in the beginning of the year, I ask, “Why do you like singing these songs in particular?” 

I love America.

It is fun living here. 

America has lots of stuff to do. 

I am humbled to have a job where I help children express their positive feelings about our country. I ask them to think about the people who have served America in the military prior to singing, the ones whom have helped make America a lovable, fun place with lots of stuff to do. I demand that they sing their best because so many have given their best so our children may sing freely. I strive each day to give them my best so they have as many opportunities as possible; to think, to grow, to challenge themselves. 

I brought my Kindergarteners into my room to rehearse the flag march, and let me tell you something – you have not seen excitement until you’ve handed 20 5-6 year olds each two miniature American flags to wave.  I reminded them to hold the flags still and respectfully, just as we should respect our country. As I heard the introduction of our national march, I started to tear up again. I stepped outside myself to ensure that my students were moving correctly, marching steadily, facing their conductor. “If you are not paying attention, you don’t get to celebrate veterans with us today -” was indeed an effective warning for them. They were eager to do their best, for me, for their school, for their families and country. 

As we filed outside for the assembly, I saw the veterans to be honored on the stage. After making sure my performers were seated and knew what to do, I stood to attention, as the color guard was about to enter. 

I lost it. 

Tears were streaming down my face. 

I wiped them away, not wanting to cause anyone concern, but all I could think was, 

“There are people who don’t want me here.”

There are people who see the many colors of my American classroom as a bad thing. There are people who see others as enemies solely because they appear different, worship another deity, or were not born in the United States. I know this is hardly news, but these people are elated that America’s president-elect has helped them express their views more comfortably. 

I understand that there are many people who voted for Mr. Trump that have no interest in discriminating against that which is different. I understand that there are people that I love – and that love me – who did so. I am saddened that this was the man who excited the conservative base in our country, because there were 16 other candidates with the same agenda who didn’t have an interest in overtly provoking the racist dragons that have existed in America from its beginning. I don’t expect them to feel how I do, but if you are truly my friend, I do expect you to consider my feelings. Consider that you probably have never had to question whether people viewed you as American enough. Consider that people likely don’t approach you with pre-judgment. Consider that I am wondering if my uterus should remain vacant until 2020 because I am not sure if this is the America I want my child(ren) introduced to. 

I truly believe the biggest lie told during the presidential campaign was that America is not already great. I could not stay in bed and reflect today because I had a show to do. I have rehearsal every day until Christ comes back (maybe between December 20 and January 20; I am kinda curious to see how my marathon goes – relax! I kid), and my mission in America’s practice room is to make her better by engaging with people who think differently than I do in a respectful manner. Helping others achieve their dreams. Serving my community. 

We’ve got a show to do. 

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The muzik teecher hoo whishes she sang gooder: Part One

Sic. Sic. Sic sic sic sic.

There was this one time I wrote about wishing I had a nicer voice so I could, like, totally wow Jesus with it in church each Sunday. I mean, why shouldn’t I be golden-throated? This music teacher has received thousands upon thousands of dollars worth of training over the course of her life. That means I should be able to sing any note in any song, regardless of whether I’ve heard it, immediately, amirite? Really, that’s the whole point of going to church – to prove that I’ve earned the Master of Music that puts a few extra bucks into my paycheck. Worship. Meh.

The music education that I’ve received not only entitles me to some rights (yes, my dislike of Justin Bieber means more than the average civilian’s) but also comes with some responsibility. No, I don’t have to sing perfectly in church, but you’re probably not going to see me there sporting a “Certified Music Teacher” t-shirt either. I understand that certain things are expected of me because I am a formally trained musician. Not only should I be skilled at playing instruments and singing, but I am also expected to be able to share that knowledge in a way that is most likely to encourage learning and retention. If there is a piano at a party and someone who took lessons for six months because mommy said starts playing heart and soul, they will get all the claps. If I sit down and do the same thing, I will get some funny looks. Why? Because more is expected of me. This is not something about which I should complain. The horrendous spelling in the title of this post should not come from a teacher of any kind. Why not? Because more is expected of me. It is my job to set an example. I embrace it and walk humbly.

I say the above to say that it puzzles me to read things to the effect that people seem to care more when civilians, regardless of alleged crime committed, are killed, than when law enforcement are killed. I will always be more upset when the police screw up than when a criminal (not saying those who have been killed are criminals!) does because guess what? That’s what criminals do. They commit crimes. They are doing their job and doing it well. A policeman killing someone wrongfully is always going to be more unjust because of the responsibility of the badge. The life of the criminal is not worth more, but the screw up of the cop is more significant. Why is this so difficult to understand? Don’t parents lecture older children more harshly because “they should know better?”

My heart breaks for the families of the two officers that were killed on duty in New York. My question – why aren’t more people upset that this dude killed his girlfriend as well? She didn’t swear to serve and protect so to hell with her? A lot of these jokers shouting “All Lives Matter” don’t seem to be too concerned with hers. Why are the people who chant this seem unperturbed by young black men being shot for absolutely nothing? Perhaps it’s like Animal Farm where the pigs eventually confess that while four legs are good, two legs are better…

Now THAT – is sick.

 

More than any other musician. Yeah, I said it.

More than any other musician. Yeah, I said it.

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