Is That So?

There’s an old Zen story about a young woman who gets pregnant and refuses to tell her parents who the father is. Under great pressure, she finally names a local Zen monk. The parents confront the monk and he responds “Is that so?” When the baby is born, they leave him with the monk and demand that he care for him. “Is that so?” he replies and takes the baby in. A year later, the young woman confesses that the identity of the real father and comes to the monk to take the baby back. “Is that so?” he says as he hands over the child. 

Who amongst us has that equanimity to accept whatever life hands us even when we know it is unfair, unjust, damaging to our reputation and just plain wrong? Certainly not me. And yet, in a recent series of events in which for the third time, I’ve been unjustly accused and punished for utter nonsense, my character and reputation attacked, my lovely final year at the school on the edge of disaster, I waffled back and forth between utter outrage and marshalling my forces for a major battle and trying out this “Is that so?” posture. Believe me, it was not easy. But in the end, it proved to be the right response and frankly, I’m astonished that I was able to pull it off. Though I stumbled and fell often, my feet walked mostly on the high road when others took the low. And it turned out to be a better path. 

But take note. “Is that so?” doesn’t mean a casual “whatever. I don’t care.” It comes with the price of still caring deeper than the norm, still feeling the full force of betrayal and injustice, but growing large enough to put it in perspective and diminish its power to throw you down. There was a period in both jazz and counter-culture where “cool” was in, a detached persona that glided through hot-headed emotion. But mostly that was shutting down feeling rather than letting it burn red-hot and containing it so it didn’t burn oneself and others. 

Hope this little Zen story may be useful to you someday. I had a great week at school and my sense of who I am and what I have to offer grew three sizes bigger. Sometimes we not only learn to accept those who transgress against us, but ultimately thank them for making us work harder to re-commit to our work and vision. I won’t forget, but I will forgive. Happy weekend!

The Demise of National Discourse

 I was talking to someone about Garrison Keillor of the former Prairie Home Companion and he had heard of neither. In recent workshops, I referenced the movie “Where’s My Roy Cohn,” and no one had seen it. I find myself talking to folks about a book I read recently titled “The Coddling of the American Mind” and no one had ever heard of it. 

At the moment, I’m reading a book by Rob Kapilow (who?) titled Listening to America: Inside the Great American Songbook. This look at musical theater mostly covers territory I know quite well, but always interesting to hear a few new stories and get a couple of new insights. And the one that really struck me were these passages: 

“The iconic status of the Wizard of Oz reflects one of the most important trends of the 1930’s— the development of a shared national culture.(Boldface mine) Before the 1920’s and 30’s America’s voice was largely a compilation of diverse regional voices. Country and western music, jazz and the blues grew up and flourished in different parts of the country, and cultural activities were locally defined.. However, new technologies like the automobile, records, radio, and films made it possible for the first time for a single message to reach the entire American population at once. People listened to the same music, heard the same radio programs, read the same news, followed the same sporting events, and saw the same movies…the end result was the creation of a common set of cultural references, a common, national voice that became the American voice.”

It was the technology of radio and movies and later television that created this new possibility, whereby a local singer in Mississippi or Harlem or Texas could become a national icon heard and/or seen by many outside of their locality. Likewise, the increase in national literacy, a thriving book industry and national newspapers contributed as well.  And part of the move to a shared national culture came from the people in the various media who had the power to define who and what was worthy of national exposure. One would hope that there were folks in charge who had the ability to distinguish between quality and pap and that there would be a public discerning enough to affirm or negate the choices based on their response. And though we will never know what geniuses may have been unfairly tossed to the side, the rise of poets, musicians, dancers, actors, filmmakers, etc. that ended up defining the American mythic landscape is proof that someone was doing their job. 

Of course, the downside was that national mood of the time could both be affirmed, sustained and created by folks in power who thought it was just fine to film singers in blackface, cast most every African-American as a porter or housemaid, make Indians the bad guys, make Tarzan a hero and on and on. And yet that same media could make films like Inherit the Wind, Stormy Weather, A Gentleman’s Agreement, Adam’s Rib, It’s a Wonderful Life (where Trumplike Potter is the bad guy!), The Defiant Ones, films that had the power to shift the national discourse towards more inclusive and just attitudes. Likewise, books like Native Son, 1984,  songs like Strange Fruit, Mississippi Goddamn, the long legacy of free speech given voice and often rising to prominence in the national discourse. 

The point is that growing up in the 50’s and 60’s up through the 80’s, it felt like the country had a shared point of reference. There were a few nationally-known newspapers,  a couple of short (not 24 hour) news shows so just about everyone knew Walter Cronkite and Mike Wallace, 3 major TV channels, a limited number of radio stations, a dozen record labels and just about everyone knowing about the Beatles and Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan and Miles Davis and Joni Mitchell and John Coltrane and James Brown etc. Not everyone would have read Soul On Ice, but most folks knew about Catch 22, The Catcher in the Rye, would understand references to Mary Poppins, the Sound of Music, the Graduate and more. 

Fast-forward to today and the new technological breakthroughs that have radically changed culture. Amidst all the pluses and minuses is the breakdown of a shared national culture. We have become again a "compilation of diverse regional voices" only now we are choosing our region of like-minded or similar-looking people. Now with the dizzying array of choice, everyone and their sister can make a Podcast, write a Blog (!), stream their music on Youtube. TV has some 500 channels, news is 24 hours and many channels (FOX news) with the manufactured lie of  being “fair and balanced” when they clearly have a biased agenda, the chance to talk only with your Facebook friends who agree with you. Add to that the fuel of identity politics and groups hunkering down to connect only with the same race, gender, sexual preference, political persuasion, etc. and what we have is a complete breakdown of anything approaching a shared national discourse where we tend to know the same things and be exposed to common references. As I mention in the opening paragraph.

This topic too big for a mere short Blogpost and too much to wrestle with to bring into coherence. For now, suffice it to say that I believe we are suffering from the loss of shared points of reference and any possibility to engage in meaningful national discussion when we know and are exposed to such different things. For now, just food for thought—with 27 different brands of mustard to choose from as a condiment.

Education or Catastrophe?

Three years ago, it was the Women’s March in San Francisco that turned me from despair to hope in the recent election of the wrong person for our country. He fulfilled every prediction I (and others) made and then some even worse ones. So here we all were again, still taking to the streets to exercise the voice that he hasn’t been able to shut down yet. And again, it felt good to be amongst such fun, interesting, varied and thinking people.

Quite a contrast to a Trump rally, where no one makes a personal sign and all wear the same Heil Hitler hat and follow the script of mindless cheering to any drivel that comes out of the guy’s mouth without a moment of reflection. And if they dare to think or look puzzled by something he says or whisper to a friend that they don’t agree and happen to be on camera (like the Plaid Shirt guy a year or so back), someone comes and escorts them out and replaces them with a Stepford-Wife cheerleader. Politics as a TV script and mass hypnosis. Full frontal public view of brainwashing at work. How is this okay?

But at the women’s march, people mostly make their own signs and they are often clever, witty, artfully designed, creative and thought-provoking. I found two others that almost matched mine exactly! (And for the public record, my wife actually made the sign that I suggested and the other side was her clever list). 

So who do we want to be? Independent thinkers or brainwashed goose-stepping yea-sayers? Which fulfils our country’s founding vision? Which fulfills Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World warning of a dystopian future society, now here and viewable on the TV news? Do we want educated people capable of distinguishing truth from lies or couch potatoes who believe everything FOX News tells them so that the rich and powerful can protect their unearned privilege to wreck the world and play golf? People capable of thinking for themselves or those who are easily duped by self-serving leaders? Do we want to educate people so they use the full measure of their faculties—intellect, imagination and humanitarian promise—or keep caring only about right answers on irrelevant tests? Two quotes:

“We are in a race between education and catastrophe.” — H.G. Wells

“Those who don’t stand for truth will fall for lies.” (This on a sign yesterday, but didn’t get a photo of it.)

Here are some of the gems from yesterday. Keep thinking! Keep speaking out! Keep taking to the streets as needed! If we’re so luck as to make it, be prepared to tell your grandchildren: “I was there. I spoke. I helped turn it around. And all for you. “

Less Is More

For a Masters in Music Ed project, a student from Canada interviewed me by phone yesterday. We talked for almost 90 minutes with me answering the questions she posed below. It was satisfying, but afterwards I felt that with a bit more time, I could have answered each more succinctly. (One of my favorite quotes came from someone writing a letter to a friend explaining a complex idea and saying, “Sorry I don’t have time to make this shorter.”) So later that day, with some more time on my hand, I challenged myself to give a one-sentence answer to each. Here it is: 

        1)  Please provide me a little bit about your childhood and earlier life. This can include where 

            you grew up, information about your family, as well as any characteristics you are 

            comfortable sharing about your upbringing that contribute to you who you are now.  

Gifted with Bach and Beethoven, grew into James Brown, Brubeck and Bird.

       2) Who, or what, have been some of the most influential people or events impacting your 
              teaching?  

Avon Gillespie and every student I’ve ever taught. 

        3) Could you please describe how you generally sequence curriculum from one grade to the 
               next (from one year to the next)? 

Teach a skill/ concept/ style that grows from the known and moves toward the next unknown. 

        4) Would you please summarize what your average music class might look and sound like for 
               a few different grade levels? I know this varies every day, but I am looking to get a sense of 
               how your classes start off, progress, and conclude each day. 

Enticing beginning, connected middle, satisfying ending. 

          5) Can you please tell me how you assess your students, describing the logistics of assessing 
                each student and the types of criteria you use?  

Watch them, see what needs praise or adjustment, give it to them.

         6) Do you have any classroom management strategies you can pass along to me?

Don’t “manage them,” but release their joyful musicality and guide and shape it.

        7) What are your top pieces of advice you have for beginning music teachers?

Reflection. Reflection. Reflection. And forgive yourself everything the first year.

        8) Do you have a student success stories you could share with me? Feel free to share more than 
             one if there are several that stand out. 

A thousand plus children who were happier at the end of class than they were at the beginning.

        9) Why do you teach?

It’s the favorite shirt that fits me perfectly, makes me feel good, look good and keeps me warm.

       10) Can you please tell me about some of your philosophies surrounding music education?

Teach like it’s music, making everything that makes music necessary and blissful—connection, communion, conviviality—present in each and every moment of music class. 

After the one-sentence exercise, I thought it would be even a better challenge to reduce each answer to one word! Here's my attempt:

1. Bach. 
2. Avon. 
3. Sequentially. 
4. Fun. 
5. Observe. 
6. Fun. 
7. Enjoy. 
8. Yes. 
9. Love. 
10. Play. 

Letter to My Blog

Dear Blog,

There have been several days of silence and perhaps you feel like newly fallen snow waiting for some human tracks to appear. Of course, in the actual world of fields and snow, that’s a beautiful sight. But the empty blank page has a lesser beauty. There is that moment of invitation and possibility, but only for a short while and then, “Come on! Let’s go!” 

My modus operandi is that my companion thoughts start trekking across the synapses of the brain and then I shoo them out the door and tell them to go out and play— either in my still-handwritten journal, an article (or book) I’m writing, but mostly, for an average of 25 times a month, in this modern form of publication that you are. And just about every day these past 9 years, some thoughts show up that are worthy of some form of sharing. 

But sometimes the ideas are too complex or vague or out-of-focus to squeeze into one page and sometimes not that interesting and occasionally (rarely), they don’t show up at all. Or sometimes I’m too busy to find a moment to bring them into the form and substance of a blog post entry. You understand. 

Right now, I’ve been hit with a stick of injustice that didn’t come from the Zen practice of waking me up or a firm loving reminder, but appeared from incompetence granted power beyond its due. And either I write 20 posts about it or try a new thing— put on my impermeable emotional raincoat and let the water drip off and not penetrate. I’m trying it out and it’s kind of working—except for when I wake up at 2 in the morning. I wasn’t even going to tell you this much, but some kind of expression, getting it out into the air, is often needed as we wend our way through the mine field of life’s unexpected explosions. In the fairy tales, the advice is: “Tell it to the stove.” Of course, someone is often hiding behind the stove and hears it and the plot thickens. And if this blog is the stove, then I know others will indeed be listening. In which case, the punch line is this:

Sometimes you need to let go the dignity and sureness of being right in a situation (believe me, I am in this one!) and just play the game and let it go. It will sort itself out and there’s more important work to attend to. I’m trying that out here and it’s not feeling too bad. And certainly better than diving into the deep drama and outrage. 

So, dear Blog, hopes that I’ll return to my routine with you and we can go romping across the newly fallen snow soon. Almost literally, as it hailed here yesterday! 

See you around town!

Love,

Your faithful writer

Beyond Category

Part active workshop, sermon, stand-up comedy, lecture, concert, class, wedding ceremony, funeral, ritual, celebration, political rally, poetry recitation, storytelling, movie theater with themes that overlap including pedagogy, philosophy, psychology, mythology, history, political analysis, poetry, music theory, music practice, education, humanism— how to describe the Orff workshops I’m blessed to lead? I was lucky to inherit this format created by Carl Orff, Gunild Keetman and their followers, expanded by my mentor Avon to touch on other matters beyond music and movement activities and sequences and luckier yet to craft to my own peculiar way of thinking and doing in which everything I’ve taken time to investigate and learn and stamp with my own character has a public place to stretch out and exercise and share with others. Though the teachers mostly come for engaging musical activities and lesson plans and intriguing ways to develop them, they end up considering a host of other things that they didn’t know they signed up for. Occasionally a few are grouchy about that, but mostly I feel people’s hungry to publicly air what so many of us are privately experiencing, both the despair and the hope, the shame and the splendor. After so many years, I’ve gotten more adept at weaving some big technicolor dreamcoat and can go seamlessly from some deep moment about a child’s breakthrough that touches our personal soul or challenging historical story that is still echoing in today’s news and harming our collective soul and then in the next moment, jump into a fun version of “Roses are red” without missing a beat. If I was a master jazz pianist or motivational speaker, everyone would understand what I do, show up with a certain expectation and neatly assign me to my category. But there simply is no precedent for this hard-to-explain format.

I’ve given five workshops in the last nine days in all sorts of venues with folks from all levels of experience. Some 26 experienced Orff teachers last Saturday that have worked often with me, an in-service with 7 teachers mostly new to Orff, a class with 10 classroom teachers-in-training considering where music will fit into their teaching and then some 85 music teachers in L.A. and 25 in Santa Barbara that ranged from folks I’ve known for 30 plus years to college students checking out something that might change their life. On top of teaching 8 classes a day to kids between 3 and 14 years old at school every day last week and playing music for 90 year-olds at the Senior Residence. On Friday, someone on the crew from the film project documenting my last year at school asked me what drugs I took to maintain this pace and my first answer was, “Music! It’s free and there are no bad side effects!”

But the deeper answer is the good fortune to stumble into something that fits the way you’re put together and the yet greater fortune of finding a community that wants it, needs it, organizes opportunities and shows up at the event—and then pays you for it!

And finally, the freedom to shape the day in a way that uses all of me. I am a god in my little domain of the Orff workshop, but not the kind obsessed with my own power to shame and blame and show my omnipotence. I’d like to think that I use my powers to release the untapped powers of each person in the room in a community celebration filled with laughter, connection, conviviality, extraordinary music easily accessible to all, stirring dance, childlike play, a few moments of profound silence and attention,  and some tears at the end. It is work and takes work to plan, lead, create, sustain, send out notes, wait three hours in the airport for the delayed plane and so on, but it is work that gives rather than depletes energy. It’s simply impossible to imagine what my life would have been without it. And as always, the proper response is…gratitude. 

May it continue to grow and prosper!

O for 10

Our Liar-In-Chief recently told his evangelist supports that God is on his side and they nodded their shameless heads in agreement. But is that the same God who issued the 10 Commandments to Moses?  The evidence is in that Mr. T.  has broken and continues to break the basic tenets of the Constitution he swore an oath to uphold. But he has also broken just about every one of the 10 Commandments. Just a quick reminder:

1.     Thou shalt have no other gods before me…except the almighty dollar.

2.     Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain…except on Twitter.

3.     Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day… except when golfing in Mar-a- Lago.

4.    Honor thy father and mother… when his Dad died, Don commented: “It was good for me. You know, being the son of somebody, it could have been competition to me. This way, I got Manhattan all to myself!”

5.     Thou shalt not kill…unless it be an Iranian general.

6.     Though shalt not commit adultery…well, does Stormy Daniels count?

7.     Thou shalt not steal… except when it comes to tax evasion and not paying workers.

8.     Thou shalt not bear false witness… except every single tweet

9.     Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife…unless it’s your own daughter who you publicly proclaimed as "hot."

10. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods… except when it becomes your mission statement as a greedy businessman. 

We’ve all transgressed in light of the 10 Commandments, but O for 10?!! I believe that after Congress does the right thing and removes him from office, the Church should impeach him and remove him from the office of moral human being. And all the people who continue to support him. Soon Hell will hang out No Vacancy signs. And Trump will get to have his own tower there. After all, heat rises.