So
way back in November I received a message from my high school band director
asking for any thoughts/memories on where band brought us. He wrote this
in hopes of getting some inspiration to tell his current students, something
like, you don't have to be a music major to do something with music. When
the request came through I was just back to being a full time working mom, and
my life balance didn't include answering funny interesting requests by an
old a past teacher.
Then
I happened across the message again, and I actually started to think about
it. What role did/does music play in my life? If you ask my high
school classmates, and honestly most of my high school teachers, 98% of them
would probably say I would answer this request with
"Oh music brought me the love of my life" (and make sure you read
this with a really high squeaky in lovey voice)
Jacob
and I were in band together. That is a true statement. But did
music bring us together? I don't think I can say that. Jacob and I
met at the end of our 5th grade year playing street hockey. We spent our
summer before 6th grade body checking each other, and me scoring goals against
Jacob. I grew a crush on a street hockey goalie, not the musician he
became later in life.
After
coming to the conclusion I didn't feel like band/music brought me the love of
my life, I started to wonder what can I attribute to band? I loved
band. I loved playing music, I loved my friends I had in high school and
undergrad from band. But did it go deeper? Did all of those crazy
well meant rants my music teacher used to bore us to death with actually ring
true? Did having music in my life contribute to who I am today?
Practice
Makes Perfect
Unlike
my musically gifted husband, music did not come easily to me. My first
real experience with having to practice, was in 5th grade music class, when it
was finally time to purchase, and learn to play, you guessed it, the
Recorder. In elementary school this was a big moment. I remember
getting my Recorder and finding it a lot harder to get sound to come out of it
than I had anticipated. I had a terrible overbite that was being fixed
with spacers and braces, and pursing my lips just perfect over the mouth piece
was not necessarily the easiest thing for me to do. As I sat on the three
step high bleacher, in the front row, either because I was short or my last
name started with a C, I remember tears forming in my eyes when it seemed
everyone else had the perfect mouth to make their Recorder squawk out Hot Cross
Buns. But I didn't let that first experience deter me. I had
dreamed of playing an instrument, and this was my chance. To all of my
neighbors disgust I would practice nightly in my front yard, making my mouth
fit on that mouth piece, get my fingers to cover all the right holes, and by
the time my test for Hot Cross Buns came around, I was ready.
The
same thing rang true for the clarinet, which I was fitted for at the end of 5th
grade. My mom scraped together enough money to buy me a used a clarinet,
because she could tell this was something I was serious about. And it
was. I practiced, and practiced. In my room where my dog would run
and hide, in the front yard as the other neighborhood kids rode their bikes
past my house, and after school in the practice rooms. When I got to
college playing in front of my room mates became embarrassing, but getting into
the Pep Band was something I wanted much more than the room mates to like me,
so I practiced.
I
learned a pretty valuable lesson early on. Very few things come naturally
to me. If I want something I will have to put in the time to get
better. I think of running as one of my best examples. When I
started running almost 4 years ago, I was over weight, over medicated on
steroids, two days shy of my last chemo treatment, but determined I was going
to get back into running. I had to start walking, and not very far at
first. Before I knew it I was walking the dog 2 miles. Then jogging
a mile of that, and then adding mileage on. I read about technique, I
joined a group to help me with my form, and teach me the "art" of
running. Then I practiced, and practiced. I ran, and ran. I
put in the training time. You get out of it what you put in.
Practice makes perfect.
Every
Song has a Story
When
I found out I had to survive 3 years of concert band to make it to marching
band I was afraid I wouldn't make the cut. I wanted to be on a field,
bringing music to others. Concert band had boring music...or so I
thought. My 6th grade band director, Mrs. Myer, taught us early on that
every song was written for/after/because of/in hopes of some event.
Classical music tells of a story of something going on in the composer’s
life. There were outpouring of emotion in every song. It changed the
way I listened to music. While listening to the radio, all of a sudden I
was tuning into the words. I was able to listen to the lyrics, to
encompass the emotion. This passion for lyrics has followed me to this
day. When I listen to a song, it is the lyrics that hook me. I love
rap because of the lyrics, I love lady blues because of the lyrics. I
love show tunes for the story that they can tell. I feel like I have a
passion to listen and hear the story in every song.
Rest
is important
I
like to go, go, go. While learning the "every good boy
deserves fudge" and the FACE acronym, it was just as
important to understand the rest sign. It was important to pay attention
to this small mark, as it was a really big deal if you were the only clarinet
playing, when clearly everyone else was resting. You had to give every
rest its full amount of time, and you can never skip over it. What
happens if you skip a rest in a score of music? You are off beat for the
rest of the song. Every note you play is not in time, and the entire song
could be ruined.
I
don't like to rest, but just like in music, you can't ignore the rest
sign. Skip rest, or not give in for as much time as you need leads to an
off balance life. A life that is just a little off beat. This is
why I am rather particular about my bedtime. I know my alarm goes off at
4:45 a.m. I know I have limitations with my health, and activity level,
that makes it pretty mandatory I get at least 7 hours of sleep. So what
happened when I made it a goal to be getting ready for bed by 9:00 every
night? I found my life was in beat. Everything seemed to fall into
place. Rest in my life is important.
Every
Part is Important in the Big Picture
I
have the kind of personality in which I like to go big, or go home. When I found out
I was fitted for the clarinet, and not the trumpet my heart did sway a little
bit. Who can hear the clarinet? There are not too many popular
clarinet players. Clarinets don't always have the melody. I like to
have the attention. But then my college band director got really angry at
the clarinet section once. Apparently we were not playing loud enough,
don't even get me started on the fact we had fewer numbers than the brass, and
we have a horn that points towards the ground, but I digress... As he ranted
away on what we called the Monster, he said something that sticks with me to
this day. He said, every last part must be heard in the score or
the entire thing falls apart. What I came to figure out was that the clarinets
gave the trumpets the undertone making them to sound louder. Without
us, the trumpets would be there, but they wouldn't be nearly as effective.
That
made me think about my life at the time. I was working at Steak N Shake,
and every part of production and service was interdependent on each other.
Without the dishwasher, we didn't have any clean dishes. Without the
cooks we, obviously, wouldn't have food. As I have had a few years of
teaching put under my belt I wish that certain politicians would keep this
phrase in mind. In society we need everyone to pull their part, for
everything to flow evenly. Just like in music, every part is important to
the big picture.
Decrescendo
Sometimes
to get the point across you just have to become quieter. Who ever would
have thought that when the entire band or orchestra decrescendo (or got
quieter), the audience would be moved more than a loud blaring brass
band? Watching the music score for specific markings such as the decrescendo
was something we were told to watch for while going to high school
competitions. There was a part of our score that was given off of a blind
reading of a musical piece. Watching for the emotions in a song, could
get us major points, and I will always remember my high school band director on
the podium, waving both of his hands down towards the ground as he would crouch
closer to the podium, as if his body movements would help us blow less into our
instruments.
It
wasn't until my undergrad that I realized the power in becoming quiet.
People are more apt to pay attention to someone quiet in the corner, waiting
for their turn, rather than the individuals yelling over top of each other to
get their point across. Group work with complete strangers never seemed
to go my way, until I became quiet, and took it all in. I was able to
make well laid out decisions, and my thoughts would be clearly
communicated. There is a lot of power in decrescendo.
Let
go of Control
When
you are a musician you practice, practice, practice, and then you have to
perform. While I was dedicated to practicing, there is something about
music that will just come to you. If you are well practiced, you know the
music, you know the story the writer is trying to portray, then when it is time
to perform, you just have to let your mind wander, and play your heart
out. Music can be mathematical and scientific, but when it comes to the
expression of it, you just have to let your emotional side take over. I
am a control freak, and I wanted all the beats to be equal, and I would count
the beats and the rests to the perfect count, and yet I would still come in at
a different time. Then I was told to stop being so focused on the small
part of just me, and listen to what else was going on. I had to let go
of control and trust the entire rest of the band. For my part to fit in, it
might have to come in a tiny bit early, and I might hold that note a little
longer. I had to let go of exactly what I wanted, but listen to the
entire song, and do what was in the best interest of the musical piece.
I
think this lesson is a no brainer. There are moments in life when
everything is not going to be right on beat, you might skip a rest, or someone
might see/hear things differently than you, and you know what, sometimes it is
best to just let go. To give up that control allows for a big picture to
happen, and maybe something I didn't even see coming, or ever could have
imagined. Sometimes the best things in life come because I can let go of
control.
Now
to wrap this up, I could go on and on about how music helped me in math,
socially, and gave me opportunities that I wouldn't have had other wise. But, music gave me so much
more than just the normal things everyone thinks of. The art of music
taught me lessons that I have been able to carry on through adulthood into my
career, and believe it or not, life outside of high school.
So,
Mr. Walker, I know this essay is super late, and probably way more than you
bargained for....but do I get an A?
