The Presence of Children

Before leaving on this trip, I sent off the manuscript of a new book I wrote to a publisher. Tentatively titled Zen, Jazz and Orff: A Life in Three Worlds, it looks at what these three traditional practices share in common, which turns out to be a lot. Mostly positive overlaps like the emphasis on first-hand experience, oral transmission, lineage, humor, community, service and such. But there is one short section on a strange commonality— the absence of children. Here’s what I wrote: 

 

While our three practices all affirm the power of community, all three also lack a vital element— the constant presence of children. As noted earlier, Guatama Buddha was a householder who left his wife and child to seek a spiritual awakening. The Sangha communities that followed his teaching later turned to Zen Centers, temples and/or monasteries were filled with people who had foregone family life. Historically, most training centers were male only. Like Christianity, the monks are mostly celibate and not family men and like Christianity, there were Zen centers for female Buddhist nuns. But in all cases, the presence of children is rare. (With the exception of Tibetan Buddhist monasteries where orphans are raised in a Buddhist practice.)

 

Though the black churches that became the root of some of jazz’s development are filled with children absorbing the music and fully participating, jazz itself is historically “child-free,” due in no small part to their exclusion in clubs that serve alcohol. Likewise, with the exception of child prodigies, the music is often too complex for young children to play along with the band. 

 

Orff Schulwerk is naturally all about children, but in both the one-day workshops and the summer training courses for teachers, children are generally not allowed. 

 

 Except here in China. Out of the 110 participants in the Beijing Orff Course, there were ten or so kids ranging from 6 years old to 12. They were here with their parents and not only participated fully for the entire six hours, but were some of my absolute favorite students. One 8-year-old boy who came up to me every day with the most infectious smile to greet me with his practice English— “Good morning!”/ “Good afternoon!”— had a notebook where he took copious notes. On the 4^th day during a break, he sauntered over to the piano and played the challenging piece Solfegettio (SPELLING) quite well! He played a big part in his small group’s creative project and was generally a delight. 

 

Note: There have been rare times when a kid has been in one of my Orff workshops in the States, but always off in the corner looking at some screen and either not participating or doing so lightly. Upon returning, I hope to convince my local Orff chapter to open up the possibility of kids attending with their teacher parents, with the clear understanding that they must participate fully. As I continued to write in the piece above:

 

It is understandable that when training intensely in a particular field—the Zen meditation retreat, the jazz band road trip, the summer Orff training— one benefits enormously from immersion in the task minus the distraction of children to feed, clothe and attend to. All these create a chosen community that is life-giving and often long-lasting.

 

Yet the fuller dimension of community requires the presence of all ages at once. 

 

And from 6 to 73, that’s exactly what happened last week and we all benefitted enormously from it.  (8/26)