I loved that show and once
bet my sister $25 that I would grow up to work with animals. My mother took
that seriously and somewhere around my junior year of high school, took me to a
Biology Professor in a nearby college to find out what I needed to do to follow
my dream. When “take lots of biology classes” was step number one in his
answer, my dream died right there and then. I hate biology class! Was terrible
at dissecting frogs and didn’t enjoy much of the rest of it. I was interested
in learning and living with the animals in the wild and had no patience for
plucking them out of their homes and putting them on the dissecting table so I
could label their parts. I suspected that the real animal was not merely a sum
of its parts, but was animated by some soul-force behind, over and underneath
it all.
In many ways, that
informed the way I think about teaching music. The music itself is so much more
than an analysis of its scales and chords and formal structures, a living, breathing
entity that unifies its separate parts into something much grander and larger.
Later I realized that Marlin Perkins and Farley Mowat and in another realm,
Jacques Costeau and their ilk indeed had done all that cold, analytic work to
inform their experience and understanding, just as I needed to do the same in
music. But there was a hierarchy to it all, the mind servant to the heart and
soul of the matter.
Yesterday, I had the kind
of biology class I love, walking in the woods with an experienced guide whose
ears and eyes were tuned to pitches I couldn’t hear on my own. He pointed out a
dazzling variety of beautiful birds, showed us the plants that would harm or
heal us and told stories of how they all interacted—the wren who lived in the
tree with the thorns that attracted ants, the birds (Tolito?) with the charming
mating habit of two males on either side of the female singing, then switching
places, singing again and eventually the female choosing one to fly away with.
I told the boys, “See how important it is to learn how to sing and dance well?”
It was a day of such
walks, Spanish classes, a swim in the refreshing waters of Lake Apoyo, skits in
the early evening and a night-time walk searching for tarantulas. With one
moment when we turned off our flashlights and were dazzled by a forest filled
with fireflies, more than I had ever seen at one time. Extraordinary! While
some of us were walking, others had what proved to be a dangerous hanging-out
time and we returned to little clusters of girls reminding us that “Hey, we’re
8th graders” and some grand drama unfolding with the beginning
practice steps of the tumultuous girl-boy relationships to come.
So I gathered the boys and
went to our little retreat center in the woods, got them settled on the back
porch, lit a candle and re-directed their attention to the world of “once upon
a time, once before a time, once inside a time, once when time stood still,
there lived a King, Queen and young Prince.” Not a sound for the next 30
minutes except for the thundering rain that had me nearly shouting the story of
Iron John. Then my colleague Peter and I sang some songs with the ukelele as
lullabies to these large-bodied children, what the kids back in the day of the
Calaveras School Camping Trips used to call The Wandering Nostrils (the real
word was Minstrels). Just as effective and just as needed for 14-year olds as
for 8-year olds and such a pleasure to tap back into that feeling of
storytelling around the campfire and tucking the kids in under the stars, serenaded
by crickets and frogs.
Now remember: “ Just as
these children long for the comfort and security of being cared for, so will
Mutual of Omaha serve all your insurance needs. Call your local office for your
policy now!”
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.