Dream Students

A few days ago I walked out of a first lesson with a 5-year-old child, and thought, what a dream student.  He had been one of the students in my Instrument Discovery class, where I introduced a group of child to the cello through weekly classes over the course of 5 weeks.  He always practiced for these classes, even if that just meant sitting with the cello and plucking a few strings.  And in the lesson he had remembered the things we had done, and sat quietly, while I spoke to him listening and taking it in.

But as I thought about what a model student he and his mother seemed to be, I realized that the lesson just before his, with a woman in her mid-20's who is coming back to the cello and is exploring ways to play in a band with some of her co-workers, was also a dream.  During the lesson we were able to explore how to improv in (what I felt) was a productive and fun way, building on skills, going from exploring freely on different harmonies to creating call and response phrases.

And earlier in the day, even the wiggly student whose feet I comically leaned on for most of the lesson, presents some exciting possibilities.  He has a free curiosity, walking through my apartment before and after the lesson to explore, incredibly intrigued by all the instruments in the room, and constantly exploring sounds on his cello.  He likes to figure out songs by ear, to laugh.  There is so much to enjoy.

For each student, there is something very exciting to explore.  The mind works in so many ways, the body receives in so many ways, and so many combinations of these things.  It is really wonderful to be able to work in this way.

It is really inspiring to have adult students.  Students of any age, really, but adult students in a somewhat more selfish way. 

After having been at the Dalcroze conference, I have a goal to become a Dalcroze teacher and part of that, a large part of that, is mastering piano and having the ability to improvise on the instrument.  In addition to this I will have to really cultivate my solfege (fixed Do) and eurythmic abilities, all of which seem incredibly daunting.  But I have these wonderful examples with me, students who are just as much peers and motivators in the path of growing.  To reach the highest designation in the Dalcroze teaching hierarchy might be a stretch (like having a goal to write a novel in French), but all the things that are a part of becoming that are things that I wish to cultivate.  And this is where my students are.  It allows me to join them in doing something new, something daunting, something exciting and rewarding in and of itself.  And I can see the way that I learn, the way that my mind feels as it reaches for more than the day will allow, the way it feels to wonder if this is worth it, what motivates and what discourages.  And since I do not have one teacher, perhaps I will be able to observe when I wish I did, and what I wish that teacher would say or do to help me.  

Princeton

This past week I spent in Princeton, New Jersey, at the Dalcroze Society of America's biennial convention.  It was a truly beautiful experience to see, hear, and experience music in such a way.  I feel very much alive and awakened from it and very inspired.  There are many things, many thoughts, many experiences that are still echoing and touching me.  And I'm not much inclined to touch them with words at the moment.

Something more concrete that I do wish to remember, was also a result of being in Princeton.  Behind our dorm was a wonderful field, with some trees but not too many, and well-kept.  It was perfect for morning Tae Kwon Do of which I took too little advantage.  But this morning I did, and on the edge of the field, on the sidewalk was an Asian woman with a very little girl, probably not more than 2 years old, that I assume was her granddaughter.  I saw them watching me and getting closer, until a point where it became appropriate to bow to them.  She nodded and came closer and so I went over to say hello.

It was a strange experience, because there was no other person in my field of vision and for all I knew, experience told me I was in Japan again, practicing by the river, being visiting by passers-by enjoying the morning air.  And so when she spoke and said, "I come from China," but could say nothing more in English, and even continued shyly on with gestures in Chinese, I was the one that felt out of place, awkward for not knowing her language and not being able to have an exchange with her.  I had been here before.

What would it take for me to step forward to someone in such a way, to brave such a thing?  And for what?  How can we see the things that are of value before we stumble upon them, to step up to them, even if they are unknown?  I have great respect for such people, true awe for such graceful courage, and gratitude for giving me something to take with me and remember.

Big Sing

This evening was the annual Big Sing, an event where anyone can go to St. John's the Divine and sing great choral works with some of the most prominent choral conductors in the city for free.  The church is a wonderful space, a very inclusive community and so it was fitting that the event be held there.  A parent from the school where I taught joined me.  She is looking for solace from the passing of her father two weeks ago.

Singing is such a wonderful way to connect with others and to open a space we forget we have in ourselves.  She grew up as Jehovah's Witness and said she renounced it 15 years ago because she wasn't allowed to sing.  And now she is a Buddhist or atheist, trying to reconcile the incredible emotion that Bach, a composer of God, is able to transmit to her through his choral works.  She can't read music ("It's Chinese to me") and so I pointed along to the words and the notes and she followed the line as best she could, and the words, her first language being Spanish.  She was finding her way in a non-native sound scape, singing for the first time in years.

It's touching what people will do.  Who is this person who has now asked me to come to her home for dinner to be around her children and her family?  Who is this open heart after such loss?

A Japanese Day

We have a New York friend who grew up in Japan and now in her retired years, after working as a translator, she enjoys all things Japanese.  She took us around an exhibit today at the Japan Society where she volunteers as a translator, and then showed us a Japanese grocery store she likes, and then a Japanese home goods store, and then the best of all, a Japanese book and stationary store!  Wonder of wonders, one of my favorite things in Japan.  All the beautiful stationary, the excellent writing utensils, and cute ways to organize parts of your life you didn't realize were a mess.

Afterwards she treated us to a very nice Japanese restaurant, where she spoke with the waiters on our behalf, and where we were greeted and bid farewell by the people cooking behind the counter.  The food was delicious and truly authentic, which is something hard to find even in New York.  Japanese food is far more than the sum of its parts.  It is about the presentation, the portion size, the number of different dishes, the service, and the delicate balance of flavors.  It's amazing how often places serve Japanese food without it being Japanese.  Quality really matters, and it was refreshing to be back in that sort of space.

Reading through the Japanese language books at the store, and even in the past few days prior to this visit, I've once again become interested in learning the language.  In Japan, I never felt that I really achieved mastery of the language and yet I always enjoyed studying it.  I think I studied it partially because I wanted to interact with Japanese people, but also I think it was just a fun thing to do, something that was productive for my life but also very interesting and beautiful.  New ways of writing, new ways of thinking about ideas.  For me, when I think about it outside the context of the need that I felt to study the language at the time, I realize that I really just enjoyed learning it for itself.

It's possible to think of the three years of non-fluency that I spent there as a failure, but I actually achieved a lot in terms of comprehension and literacy and the curiosity in it lives on.  And that it lives on means it didn't fail.  So along with learning to play the piano a little better, improvising, organizing my teaching studio, and preparing for my black belt test in September, I think I will have another hobby, one that is completely unnecessary or goal oriented, that has no need attached to it at all.  To study Japanese again.  Just for the fun of it.

Suzuki at Carnegie; Pictures of Central Park

We spent the day moving young cellists around Carnegie Hall.  Over 170 of them were on stage for the last few Suzuki songs.  It was a surreal experience, to see so many young cellists playing together, but then there were over 750 violinist.  Incredible.  Incredible, too, was the precise organization that it took to make it happen.  Row organizations and timing and parent drop-off and pick-up, figuring out who was playing what and where they would be seated for it, practicing the review pieces so that it would sound as good as it did.  There were many arts going on today, some musical and some logistical.

And then afterwards we hung out with some of the other teachers, meeting and mingling.  And because it was a beautiful day, we went for a walk in the park.  Passing by a baseball game under a beautiful sky with the Manhattan buildings looming, never too far away.  

Ride and Shake (Beginning of Summer)

First day of summer.  Andrew came home and suggested a bike ride through Central Park.  We got to see many pockets of the park peopled with picnickers and runners and bikers and even a boxer.  There are so many types of people in New York, and they come out to enjoy a bit of greenery and to forget they are in a big city, except that they are still surrounded, packed together, with other people.

And then we had ramen followed by a malt at what is becoming, I believe, our local diner of choice.  The milkshake maker at this place takes his job very seriously.  He is a mixologist of shakes with excellent presentation skills.

The sky was beautiful today.  It's wonderful to share it.

Last Day of School Teaching

This is the end of the year.  Today was the last day of teaching at Harmony and after the graduation ceremony tomorrow where the students will be playing, they will be turning in their instruments.  The Success Academy Charter Schools is no longer going to bring in outside organizations to do after-school programs and so the students we have been teaching all year will no longer be playing.  I'm hoping a few are able to continue, and also hoping that the school system at least finds another way to help them stay in music.

It's a strange feeling to have the year be ending.  Each time I left the school I thought about how I could improve on the next time, or maybe how I could start the year over again.  Regardless of the decision, I hadn't been planning to return as a classroom teacher next year and yet somehow it seems even more final.   There are grand ideas and minute details that I dream of imparting to the students there, and yet my message has felt so muffled this year, so ineffective.  I think my arrows were not very straight and were blown off course by various winds, several that I can count for sure, several that I suspect were there but I may only come to know years from now.

I have learned so much from this experience, though.  I wish I had learned all there was to learn, but now it is done.  I am so grateful to the students for their patience (or at least as much as they could muster) and for those that have continued to love playing despite the frustrations of the classroom.  I have learned that respect is something that you practice, not earn.  That people and children are not only what they present to you, but are deeper within themselves and exist in the future and the past in myriad states.  It is not an option to quit and remaining open is the only way when it becomes difficult.  Attention getting devices and points are hallow but effective.

Tomorrow the scholars graduate from 4th grade and move on to other things.  They step into a world beyond my reach and I think that is a very good thing.  It is hard to say goodbye because I don't really feel like we ever said hello.  I shared so little of myself and was it because I forgot or because I couldn't find a way in such an environment?  But as I walk away, this is on my mind as another lesson.  To share more of myself with my students, in whatever way I can.