Your Typical Middle School Concert

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A couple of nights ago I had the pleasure to hear my local elementary/middle school band play. Two back-to-back concerts were performed: the beginner band and the intermediate band. It was a fine show.

The beginner band performed first. They did a good job, typical of a beginner band, with clarinet squeaks and off-beat percussion and blaring brass overshadowing the flutes, followed by the older and more experienced musicians who, as expected, had honed their craft a bit more. It was not a concert to be attended by the critics, or by anyone who is looking to get their ears massaged. It was like so many similar performances that happen every year all across the United States. The place was packed with proud (and tired and spaced out and other varieties of) parents, and a passel of school kids did their best and had fun.

I was struck by the timelessness and the typicallness of it. We were assembled in the gymnasium, seated in folding chairs in rows. Students played on risers as well as on the stage at the side of the room. They played under the basketball hoops. There was a state flag and a national flag on the wall. Four students started us off with the national anthem. Gym mats were folded in the corner. How many people have witnessed this same scene?

This was exactly what I did in elementary and middle school. Lots of kids played instruments and we managed to honk out some tunes as a band. Some or these young musicians will stick with it, but most will leave their instruments behind and some day say that they once played the saxophone or the bass drum, just like in my generation. I imagine many of those parents and grandparents attending this time were in that boat. This pageant has been repeated many times in many places. It is a shared experience.

What if we could tap into that shared experience? If we all could know how many others have felt pride at hitting the right notes, or embarrassment at missing them, wouldn’t we be in a better place? I certainly felt pride in my own child for performing, and I am confident I was not alone. Math may not be taught the same way as when these students’ parents went to school, and Chromebooks were not available to the previous generation. Schools and public education have changed in many ways, but band is similar. The clarinets and french horns and cymbals sound the same and work the same way. I think there is something to be celebrated in that.

Music (and other art) programs get cut at many schools. They are not valued as much as things that are typically measured on standardized tests. I think that is a mistake. There is much to be learned by playing music. If you have had any experience playing music, even as an elementary school band member, you know what I mean. And the continuity of it is powerful as well. There are few things that really are the same about school from the last generations to this one. I think we should hang on to some of them.

Ready to Burst

Heavenly Beverage

Heavenly Beverage

I drank a lot of coffee this morning.   I whipped up a cappuccino, since I had a little more time this morning than usual (plus it was 0 degrees while we waited for the bus to pick up my daughter; I was chilly).  Then I had another couple of cups of regular coffee.  I mean, it was there.  I didn’t want to waste it just because my wife only had one cup before she left.  That would be irresponsible of me in this bad economy.

Then I drank a bunch of water.  That is important.   Dehydration causes more headaches than stress.  That is a fact.  I want to be healthy, don’t I?  And after all that coffee, which is a diuretic, I had to hydrate.  So I chugged away.  Then I started meeting with students in back to back meetings.  Suddenly a couple of hours had passed.  And I needed to find one of those little rooms with the plumbing.

So I walked over to the faculty room.  I ran into a friend, we’ll call him Chris, who I hadn’t seen in a long time.  We caught up a little.  We chatted.  It was good to see him.  But I still needed that plumbing.  Finally I excused myself and took care of business.

I find myself in this situation more often than I would like.  But at least I have a place to go.  A friend of ours teaches kiteboarding.  She spends literally all day out on the frozen lake with visibility measured in miles.  It is great for business–everyone can see all those people having fun.  But she doesn’t drink coffee.   Or water.  Or anything.  Things are just easier that way.

I made it through the day, of course.  I will face many others like this one.  But what is one to do?  I want to drink coffee (warm, tasty, hearty, comforting), I need to drink water (hello, you can die without water) and I have to work.  I suppose if I were a lumberjack I might match all of these things a little better.  Or a park ranger in a remote place.  But no, I had to switch from outdoor education to indoor boy.

Such is the price of the professional.  I wonder if Chris ever has to deal with this?  I’ll have to ask him next time I see him.