Story

Tonight was the APS String Fling. It was organized by a friend and colleague, and I live near Grady HS, so I went and had a great time. Even though I’ve been to many more school band concerts than string concerts, it felt comfortable in the way that sitting in an auditorium with kids and parents feels. The biggest difference between now and when I was a student was probably the parents taking pictures with their cell phones. Parents were talking, kids were talking, and small violin and cello players were making beginning attempts at tuning. The concert was one hour – the perfect length to me. Anything more than that and it’s hard to sit and pay attention. The kids played Beethoven and Cold Play, and part of me wished I was still on that side of the stage.

I went by myself, but as it turned out, the person I sat next to has two students at Centennial, and one who just finished there and is at Inman. She’s from Mobile but moved at some point in her life to New Orleans. I know that because our conversation began with her visit to Atlanta the day before hurricane Katrina, which turned out to be a move. I’ve never lived in either place, but I have cousins in Mobile, and friends who own a pizza restaurant in New Orleans. She is a pediatrician, and she and her husband have been to Paris, but not to Italy. I found that out when she asked me how long I had taught. This is my sixth year in Georgia, but I taught for one year in Milan. She asked if I spoke Italian, and I had to admit the only sentence I can still say is “The lights don’t work in my apartment. May I please have the key to the basement?” Her oldest daughter plays the violin. The other two have also tried it, but at the moment it doesn’t seem to be their thing. She said she was surprised that she liked playing with them when they each were in a Suzuki program, and her oldest now plays on the violin she used.

When the concert was over, I walked home. It was a moment when I loved that I live in the community where I teach, that I could walk rather than drive to hear a concert, and that people often have their lights on and their blinds open at that time of night. I love the houses on Myrtle Street, and since it was still light, I took a detour. I found out that my favorite house has a grand piano in the front room and that in several houses you can see all the way through from the front to the back. If I’d spent the evening inside, I might have spent time pondering things that frustrate or concern me, but since I was outside, I didn’t, which was nice.

Before I went to the concert, and my thoughts were still on my day at school, I thought some about the students I have who haven’t really learned enough on the song flute to have a good chance for success on an instrument, but the year is almost over, and next year I’ll have a new group of fourth graders, which means limited time to help them catch up with the rest of the class. If I could give them more one on one time, would it help? What keeps some of them from practicing at home? Why has my fifth grade saxophone player forgotten to bring his instrument the last three lessons? He has the most potential of anyone I have at that school, but he probably won’t make it in a middle school program if he doesn’t take his instrument to school. If they sign up and say they want to learn to play an instrument, I want that to happen for them. What happens when time runs out, but they need more, not just in band, but in their other classes? In fourth grade, they still want to learn and do, even with obstacles. When does that stop for some of them?

On my walk home tonight, I thought about the fact that during an hour long concert, I learned more about the story of the person I sat beside than I know about many of my students. Even though most of that was spent listening to the kids play, the in between times were focused and interested conversation. We had never met, but we found several ways we were connected by common interests. Her story, and the way I could connect it to my own, added a new dimension to the time I spent at the concert.

Even though in clock hours I’ve spent much more time with my students, that kind of connection can be hard to get in groups of 10 or 15 or 20, especially when the goal is to pass on a set of skills. If I knew more about their stories, would I find ways to pass those skills on more effectively for them? If everything is going well in their lives, they probably have lots of energy to give to learning. If it’s not, they have less. It can be hard in 45 minutes twice a week to sort between the everyday frustrations of being a nine year old, and a child struggling with larger issues. They each have their story, but how often do some of them get time with an adult who has time to really listen, in the way they would like to tell it?