Raining in Shanghai

It’s a rainy night in Shanghai. The night looks different in the rain, a new twist of romance. The lights have a different glimmer and the temperature drops to a more livable 83. I’m on my way to a restaurant to meet up with ten students who I taught in the San Francisco Orff Course between 2017 and 2024. 

 

We gathered around the circular table with hugs and screeches of delight. A few I had seen a mere month or so ago in San Francisco or New Orleans, others not for five or more years. It was a relief to have most of the conversation around the table in English, but more important, it was such a joy to be with these folks. Not only because they are so much fun, with such vibrant energy and playful spirit, not only because we had already shared a slice of life together and a most delicious memorable slice it was, not only because of the pleasure they took in seeing each other again (though many stay in constant touch and in fact, a few teach in the same school together). But one of the greatest pleasures is them talking about how the SF Levels Course impacted them— as teachers, friends, human beings. They showed me videos of some of the shows they’ve put on with their kids and the little I saw was impressive indeed. 

 

In this lifetime of teaching teachers as well as teaching kids— almost 50 years now!— one never knows the impact the work has on them. Well, sometimes you might, as teachers talk with you or write to you and tell you directly. But generally, the teacher of teachers just puts out what they have to offer without ever quite knowing what will land or when or with what impact. And that’s fine. The pleasure is in the sharing and that’s enough. 

 

But sometimes it strikes you that when the door you helped open led someone into the house they were meant to live in, then the mere fact of you being born feels justified. A bit like the angel Clarence showing George ? how so many lives would have been different if George had not been born. 

 

It is a rainy night in Shanghai and yet again I’m reminded: “It’s a wonderful life.”   (8/27)