THE GHANA CHRONICLES: Pool Party—6/28/23

The first impulse we humans have when we experience something noteworthy is to share it with others. Not in a forcible missionary kind of way—“I found Jesus/ Krishna/Buddha/ Orff Schulwerk,  so you must too or your life is worthless!— but in an invitational kind of way. Like the marvelous teacher years back who shared her Zimbabwe music and culture in a workshop and said, “If you like it, you’re welcome to take it and pass it on. If not, give it back and go on your way.”

 

Kofi is a busy man and he has neither time nor inclination for self-promotion. His attitude is “Build it and they will come” and in the end, that has worked pretty well. My attitude is “Yes, but they have to know it’s there and a little advertising doesn’t hurt.” So I spent the year peppering Facebook with all sorts of ways to entice people. I know from experience that the worst way is pleading and whining— “We need 10 more people to make this course go. Pllleeeease sign up!” Guilt is also bad—“If you’re serious about diversity training, you MUST do this course.” What works a bit better is something like: “When the photos start coming in on Facebook from the lucky people loving their Orff Afrique experience, don’t be caught with a bad case of FOMO! Come join the party— only a few spots left!”

 

So I’m always thinking ahead about how to entice people to sign up for what I know can be a life-changing experience. Certainly the enthusiastic Facebook posts from the 40 or so people who came this time, the little video clips of the fabulous music and dance, the personal stories they’ll tell. But after that fun time at the pool, I thought “THIS could be the tipping point for people thinking about coming!” So I organized a pool party to take some photos and splash them over Facebook. With this commentary:

 

      Make no mistake— the Orff Afrique Course is hard, hard work. Dedicated teachers come to find the limits of their music and dance skills as they encounter new rhythms, melodies, instruments, techniques, musical forms and structures. Each little breakthrough and success — and there are some most every day— is hard earned. Combined with encountering a culture so different from what most of us have known, a connected culture where every dance step, rhythm pattern, song text, has a deep deep meaning, known and valued by everyone in the community. A place where our notions of stamina are challenged as people play, sing and dance for literally hours and hours on end. A place where children can play better, dance better, improvise more freely than any of us music teachers can imagine as we settle for what we think a first-grader is capable of. A place where the community is the center of an education far more inclusive of human possibility than our narrow definitions of schools, all ages freely mingling and sharing knowledge in multiple mediums. People who say “Welcome!” to strangers and mean it.

      

    Amidst the musical and pedagogical challenges come the stories of how ignorant Westerners have done everything they can to decimate the culture— and still are. The stories of social injustice that begin from the horrific base of the slave trade and continue today to the more subtle forms of colonialism that seek to dismantle traditional ways. The American music teacher who may have come for some fun games and a piece or two to teach to their kids discovers that that iceberg’s tip runs deep, in waters more profound than most of us imagined. 

 

    At the same time, the social vibe between the teachers who have come together, between us and the Nunya kids, between us and all whom we have met, is pure pleasure and conviviality. We are all here to pick each other up when we hit our walls, dust each other off and start all over again. Here, joy and justice walk hand in hand. 

 

     So at the end of a day of hard (and joyful) work, why not have a well-earned pool party? Friends, start saving your money and making your plans now and see you in 2025. As the Ghana kid’s game goes, “Side to side, hand to hand, I will see you later!”