Today I proudly wore red in support of equal rights when it comes to marriage. This morning, as we were getting ready, I asked the Peanut if she wanted to wear red like mommy. We had a chat about what it was all about and talked about what it meant to be gay.
As we were talking about it -- at a six year old's level, of course -- I marveled at the fact that men loving men and women loving women really didn't phase her. It's as normal to her as mommy and daddy being a couple. She knows many of my friends are gay and doesn't think a thing of it. I love this about her. In fact, when we were reading a poem a few weeks ago, she wanted to look up the word "gay" in the dictionary when it was used to mean "happy" because she didn't know that was the original meaning.
So back to the conversation. After our discussion about what it all meant, she opted to wear purple. "I want people to marry who they want," she said. "I'm not wearing red, though, because I'm going to marry O." (O is a boy she hangs out with regularly).
I guess she's got it all figured out.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Making school easy
The past few weeks posed a huge challenge to my sanity. The Peanut put up her stubborn streak and decided that she couldn't deal with school. That's not to say that we haven't had school per our usual schedule, but instead of just getting it done (and hopefully learning something and having fun along the way), school turned into a battle of wills -- a battle of wills that still resulted in having some fun and learning something along the way, but with headaches in between. As soon as I noticed this happening several weeks ago, I simplified what we do somewhat as this isn't the first time this sort of thing has happened. I dumped a few projects that I thought would just cause issues and now I typically don't even try to do everything that I would normally do. Even so, with a reduced schedule, we're spending more time at it.
I cannot point to any one thing that we do and say that it's the problem. In general, problems arose when the material was challenging. It involved things that didn't come easy to her. She needed to stop and think about it -- maybe even discuss it with me before arriving at the answer. Sometimes the work is a little on the tedious side. Sometimes it's a new concept. Sometimes it's a review of material. Sometimes it's just gosh-darn challenging. Even on our good days, we still run into this on occasion, but it became much more frequent these past few weeks.
Today, after doing the "fun stuff" - writing and illustrating a poem, working on cursive - we got to grammar. Grammar normally isn't hard. It normally is kind of fun since there are whacky writing exercises to enforce concepts and a great text to go with it. There is a workbook of sentences for analysis which we do most days. Today's sentence was challenging for her. The subject and predicate were combined into the word "It's". It had a prepositional phrase which didn't jump out at her. And for some reason, she couldn't figure out that the word "shrill" was an adjective. (And yes, she knows what the word means and it was clear what it described in the sentence). Anyways, after struggling with it, asking for my help (and ignoring what I offered), and struggling some more, what started as whining quickly turned to a temper tantrum.
Today's temper tantrum was the straw that broke this camel's back. This isn't the first tantrum I've had this month. It wasn't even the worst. But it was enough to make me reconsider this whole homeschooling thing. Does something need to change? Absolutely. I believe in making The Peanut part of this process so when she had calmed down, instead of resuming school, we had a talk. It went something like this:
Me: "It's clear you aren't happy with how school is going. What can I do to make it better?"
The Peanut: "Make it easier."
Me: "What do you mean?"
The Peanut: "I don't want to have to think about it."
We talked quite a bit about this and how I wasn't planning on dumbing down school for her anytime soon. The whole point of homeschooling for us is so she can work at her level -- not at the grade level she would be assigned at school. Yes, the material that we work on is challenging, but it's not too hard for her. If she allows herself to take a breath and think about most things, she gets it. Often times, things that I think will be hard for her, she picks up easily. Other times, stuff that I thought would be a breeze turned out to be difficult. This has happened often enough now that I have stopped assuming one way or the other. I try to just go with the flow and help her in as many ways that I can along the way.
She does not want to go to traditional school and has made this point abundantly clear. She has clear reasons as to why she doesn't want to go. It has little do with staying home, but more to do with our projects, the reading we do, her homeschool friends and all their activities, etc. She also likes a lot of the materials we use -- including that grammar program that started today's temper tantrum. If you pick one thing we use, she has her lists of likes and dislikes. I listen to these and make sure the likes outweigh the dislikes and adjust if necessary.
So. What to change? Stop homeschooling? Given the level of frustration on both of our parts, that is being idly thought about. Change the curriculum? While I'm not against changing something that's not working, I don't have any one thing I can target. Change the routine? I wish I could, but we're locked into the routine we have thanks to my job. She has lots of opportunity to get together with friends and run around several times a week, so I don't think that's it. Unschool for awhile? I'm seriously considering this, but I don't know how to do it in a way that I'd be comfortable. I believe that unschooling is still facilitated, but given the aforementioned schedule, I have no idea if I could facilitate it effectively. Further, The Peanut is a self-starter. Sort of. She does give me guidance to a certain extent for school as we do it now, but I don't think she would know what to do if I dumped the whole thing in her lap. And as far as I could as a her facilitator, I'd still try to challenge the heck out of her along the way so that doesn't solve her problem.
Maybe it's the Winter Blahs. Maybe a growth spurt. Maybe if I just give it another week or two, this will all be behind us and we'll be back to our normal happy selves with school. It's times like these though where the self-doubt starts creeping in and I start wondering if I'm doing it right. I suppose only time will tell.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
In retrospect...
Yesterday's post about The G Word created great conversation here on Blogger, over at my Facebook account, and on a mailing list that I read/post to when I find time. I loved hearing the personal stories -- many of which started with "when I was in school..." It got me thinking about when I was in school because I was also one of those bored kids where most everything came pretty easily. I think, in some ways, I was lucky, though, as I was a product of the late 80s where teachers weren't tied to their standardized tests and had some leeway.
I can think of three teachers who had a significant impact on me. First and foremost, Mr. Ellenberger who took over the music program my Freshman year. He pushed me out of my shell and started me on the path to where I am today. That path has had many twists and turns over the years, but if it had not been for Mr. E., I wouldn't be teaching music today. I have so many happy memories of choir and the competitions that I couldn't even begin to write them down. My only regret is the pain-in-the-ass that I was to him during those four years. I'm grateful he put up with my shenanigans and mentored me anyways.
Second, Miss Donlin. I had her for A/P English and Humanities. She ran her classes at a college level. Humanities was the best class for a gifted kid who wanted to learn about everything. We studied literature, art, architecture, religion, and history. I've probably forgotten most of what I learned in that class, but at the time, I could not get enough of it. Miss Donlin kept me busy -- and not in the busy-work kind of way - my Senior year.
My third influence was Mr. Fisher, but not for the same reasons as Mr. E and Miss Donlin. Mr Fisher taught Trig. Because of some scheduling error sometime in Middle School, I didn't get on the right math track that would give me Calculus my Senior year. It's just as well as Mr. Fisher also taught that class. He was a nice enough man, but, at least for me, he might as well have been teaching the class in Russian because I had No Clue what was going on. So I taught myself Trig. I used my textbook and my mom had a friend who would help me out on occasion. I passed the class with flying colors, but those grades did not come easily to me. This class taught me to work for it but it also gave me the idea that I wasn't good at math -- an idea that both of my parents perpetuated.
I still struggled when I made it to college. Suddenly everything was a challenge -- nothing came easily. At the same time, I really wasn't sure what I wanted to do because everything sounded interesting, but not interesting enough to hold my attention. I also was fighting against the aforementioned issues with math. So I worked as hard as I could force myself, got mediocre grades, and fell in with the theater crowd. (By then, I should have figured out that perhaps switching to a music/theater school might be in order, but I stuck with WPI.)
I never really thought about my schooling, my struggles, why I react to certain things like I do, etc, until The Peanut came along. Learning about her taught me so much about myself.
I can think of three teachers who had a significant impact on me. First and foremost, Mr. Ellenberger who took over the music program my Freshman year. He pushed me out of my shell and started me on the path to where I am today. That path has had many twists and turns over the years, but if it had not been for Mr. E., I wouldn't be teaching music today. I have so many happy memories of choir and the competitions that I couldn't even begin to write them down. My only regret is the pain-in-the-ass that I was to him during those four years. I'm grateful he put up with my shenanigans and mentored me anyways.
Second, Miss Donlin. I had her for A/P English and Humanities. She ran her classes at a college level. Humanities was the best class for a gifted kid who wanted to learn about everything. We studied literature, art, architecture, religion, and history. I've probably forgotten most of what I learned in that class, but at the time, I could not get enough of it. Miss Donlin kept me busy -- and not in the busy-work kind of way - my Senior year.
My third influence was Mr. Fisher, but not for the same reasons as Mr. E and Miss Donlin. Mr Fisher taught Trig. Because of some scheduling error sometime in Middle School, I didn't get on the right math track that would give me Calculus my Senior year. It's just as well as Mr. Fisher also taught that class. He was a nice enough man, but, at least for me, he might as well have been teaching the class in Russian because I had No Clue what was going on. So I taught myself Trig. I used my textbook and my mom had a friend who would help me out on occasion. I passed the class with flying colors, but those grades did not come easily to me. This class taught me to work for it but it also gave me the idea that I wasn't good at math -- an idea that both of my parents perpetuated.
I still struggled when I made it to college. Suddenly everything was a challenge -- nothing came easily. At the same time, I really wasn't sure what I wanted to do because everything sounded interesting, but not interesting enough to hold my attention. I also was fighting against the aforementioned issues with math. So I worked as hard as I could force myself, got mediocre grades, and fell in with the theater crowd. (By then, I should have figured out that perhaps switching to a music/theater school might be in order, but I stuck with WPI.)
I never really thought about my schooling, my struggles, why I react to certain things like I do, etc, until The Peanut came along. Learning about her taught me so much about myself.
Monday, January 28, 2013
The G Word
I saw a link to this article go by in my Facebook Feed earlier this evening. It is an argument about why the word "gifted" should be retired. The argument is basically we should stop coddling the gifted kids -- if they show a talent in some area, let them explore it, but bear in mind, anyone can master anything if they show perseverance and a willingness to put those mythical 10,000 hours into learning regardless of whether or not they have natural talent or not. (As a voice teacher, I can tell you that this is not possible. I can most likely teach you to sing better than you did when you started with me, but to truly master the art, you've got to have something kind of special to start with). It says a lot of other stuff, too, but one thing becomes painfully clear as you read this: The author is an IT-professional and a former dentist. Not a teacher. And (I'm willing to bet) not a parent of gifted kid.
Why are gifted kids treated like entitled brats in society? What makes them any different from a kid who's a really great athlete? The athletic kid gets special training outside of gym class and she gets featured on her team. What makes a gifted kid different from the kid where reading doesn't come easily? That kid gets a special classes, a tutor or even an IEP to help get him up to speed. And yet, when gifted kids need enrichment or acceleration, it's a fight for those services or classes. School administrators believe that if the kid's smart, he or she can figure out their own path. (Note that I am not picking on the teachers here as I believe the majority of the teachers in the system want to do right by all of their students. Often times, they're hamstrung by their administration, the standardized testing, and/or lack of funding. But this is a rant for a different blog post).
What makes this all very difficult to understand is that every gifted kid is unique. I don't mean this in the sense that every kid is special in some way because they all are. I have seen figures that say the top 5% intellectually are more diverse than the bottom 95% put together. Gifted kids have emotional needs and sensitivities that go beyond what most average kids experience. They often have learning disabilities that go undetected because they can compensate for them. Some gifted kids aren't academic geniuses - they're musicians, artists, or...wait for it...athletes. Even the academic geniuses have strengths and weaknesses -- there are mathy kids who don't like reading. There are kids who are reading several grades above their level who couldn't be bothered with learning their basic addition facts. And so on.
The Peanut is gifted. In both reading and math, she is well-above grade level. She also has a few sensitivities that to the outsider probably look completely over-the-top. She also swings from very intelligent conversation to having a temper tantrum that would make any 2-year-old jealous. All of this is normal when you're gifted and as a parent, I've learned to roll with the punches as best I can.
"Gifted" is not a word that I use all that often anymore because I do not like the negative connotation that word has. I also don't want The Peanut to feel bad about being different -- I want her to embrace who she is. Three years ago, when I began wondering what the best course of action was for my precocious little girl, I used that term more often because it pointed me toward resources. Prior to my research, I thought gifted equated to being smart -- not all the other stuff. Had I not embraced the word, I may not have found all that I did. If she were in school, I would want access to whatever resources would be available for her -- just like the athletes and the kids who have problem reading. Odds are, if she were in school, I'd probably still use this word.
It's a sad commentary on our society in general that you have to fight for your kids' education. I hear some friends talk about their fights over getting the IEPs they need. I read many parents who struggle to keep their smart kids engaged in school. It's two sides of the same coin where if your kid is not statistically average, there's a chance he or she will be left in the dust. I sincerely hope that The Powers That Be who are responsible for education policy someday realize that not all kids are statistically average and even the gifted ones (and in some cases, especially the gifted ones) need special attention too.
Why are gifted kids treated like entitled brats in society? What makes them any different from a kid who's a really great athlete? The athletic kid gets special training outside of gym class and she gets featured on her team. What makes a gifted kid different from the kid where reading doesn't come easily? That kid gets a special classes, a tutor or even an IEP to help get him up to speed. And yet, when gifted kids need enrichment or acceleration, it's a fight for those services or classes. School administrators believe that if the kid's smart, he or she can figure out their own path. (Note that I am not picking on the teachers here as I believe the majority of the teachers in the system want to do right by all of their students. Often times, they're hamstrung by their administration, the standardized testing, and/or lack of funding. But this is a rant for a different blog post).
What makes this all very difficult to understand is that every gifted kid is unique. I don't mean this in the sense that every kid is special in some way because they all are. I have seen figures that say the top 5% intellectually are more diverse than the bottom 95% put together. Gifted kids have emotional needs and sensitivities that go beyond what most average kids experience. They often have learning disabilities that go undetected because they can compensate for them. Some gifted kids aren't academic geniuses - they're musicians, artists, or...wait for it...athletes. Even the academic geniuses have strengths and weaknesses -- there are mathy kids who don't like reading. There are kids who are reading several grades above their level who couldn't be bothered with learning their basic addition facts. And so on.
The Peanut is gifted. In both reading and math, she is well-above grade level. She also has a few sensitivities that to the outsider probably look completely over-the-top. She also swings from very intelligent conversation to having a temper tantrum that would make any 2-year-old jealous. All of this is normal when you're gifted and as a parent, I've learned to roll with the punches as best I can.
"Gifted" is not a word that I use all that often anymore because I do not like the negative connotation that word has. I also don't want The Peanut to feel bad about being different -- I want her to embrace who she is. Three years ago, when I began wondering what the best course of action was for my precocious little girl, I used that term more often because it pointed me toward resources. Prior to my research, I thought gifted equated to being smart -- not all the other stuff. Had I not embraced the word, I may not have found all that I did. If she were in school, I would want access to whatever resources would be available for her -- just like the athletes and the kids who have problem reading. Odds are, if she were in school, I'd probably still use this word.
It's a sad commentary on our society in general that you have to fight for your kids' education. I hear some friends talk about their fights over getting the IEPs they need. I read many parents who struggle to keep their smart kids engaged in school. It's two sides of the same coin where if your kid is not statistically average, there's a chance he or she will be left in the dust. I sincerely hope that The Powers That Be who are responsible for education policy someday realize that not all kids are statistically average and even the gifted ones (and in some cases, especially the gifted ones) need special attention too.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Acting & Singing
Before the flu came by for a visit, I managed to catch a showing of Les Miserables. I didn't hate the movie but didn't love it either. The movie had some real high and low points -- and I'm not talking about the general tear-jerker of the story line. What the movie did get me thinking about is the notion that there are actors who can sing and singers who can act. Some shows - Like Les Mis -- need singers who can act.
A true singer has at least a little actor in them. We are able to let go as we sing the song and let the character and emotion of the song wash through us. Think about some of the great performances you've seen regardless of musical genre. The really good ones that make your toes curl are the ones that the singer becomes one with the song. The singer may not actually be the best technically, but they managed to reach deep down inside and draw upon everything the song has to offer and feed it to you, the listener so that it touches you.
An actor who can sing might be able to do this, but actors generally pull from several bags of tricks to create the character. They may, in the end, give themselves over to the character completely, but they may not be able to give themselves over to the song. In many instances, this is fine -- not all songs are endless pools of emotions.
One thing I tell my students (and I can't take credit for this -- a theater friend taught me this) as they learn a new piece of music is to think about what just happened 30 seconds ago to inspire them to break out into song. Latch on to that teensy little period of time and let that spark ignite whatever emotion(s) the song brings up. If they can keep that moment in their mind's eye, the audience will see it too and be right there with them.
So back to Les Mis because it proves my point using two of its big-name actors. Russell Crowe is a fine actor. I've seen him in a number of movies and generally enjoy his performance. He is an actor who can sing and as such, fell flat as Javert. He couldn't capture the spark that lead to Javert's amazing monologues. I'd be willing to bet that if those monologues had been spoken instead of sung, Crowe would have nailed them. Anne Hathaway, on the other hand, had us down there in the gutter with her feeling the last shred of dignity leaching out of all us collectively during "I Dreamed A Dream'. Even though her background wouldn't suggest it, Hathaway is a singer who can act - and a damn fine one too.
As a voice teacher (and sometimes acting coach), I feel this is an important distinction to make, but it's an almost impossible thing to teach. Some of my students will never become singers who can act -- they have fine voices, but cannot give themselves over completely to the song. They take a technical approach to the song often times with lovely results, but lacking in emotion beyond whatever dynamics that are written into the piece. I have a few students who are solid actors that cannot translate that into song -- give them a monologue and they'll deliver. Give them a song and they may sound nice singing it, but they can't take it further. It takes courage and instincts that not all singers possess or can find in themselves. For the students where this comes fairly naturally -- and I have a couple -- I don't have much to teach them in this area, but instead, I throw ideas out at them for different approaches to take or places where they need to amp it up or tone it down and watch what unfolds.
When I was a voice student, I was fortunate enough to work with a coach who had performed and taught all over the world. She has some big names on her list of former students and, in her youth, had some wonderful opportunities. One day, she told me that one of her former students was a voice actor in a popular Disney movie. She concluded that while he was a good voice student, she knew that he would end up with speaking roles. At the time, I thought she was being kind about this person's singing abilities. Now that I'm a teacher and have experienced it for myself, I finally understand what she meant.
A true singer has at least a little actor in them. We are able to let go as we sing the song and let the character and emotion of the song wash through us. Think about some of the great performances you've seen regardless of musical genre. The really good ones that make your toes curl are the ones that the singer becomes one with the song. The singer may not actually be the best technically, but they managed to reach deep down inside and draw upon everything the song has to offer and feed it to you, the listener so that it touches you.
An actor who can sing might be able to do this, but actors generally pull from several bags of tricks to create the character. They may, in the end, give themselves over to the character completely, but they may not be able to give themselves over to the song. In many instances, this is fine -- not all songs are endless pools of emotions.
One thing I tell my students (and I can't take credit for this -- a theater friend taught me this) as they learn a new piece of music is to think about what just happened 30 seconds ago to inspire them to break out into song. Latch on to that teensy little period of time and let that spark ignite whatever emotion(s) the song brings up. If they can keep that moment in their mind's eye, the audience will see it too and be right there with them.
So back to Les Mis because it proves my point using two of its big-name actors. Russell Crowe is a fine actor. I've seen him in a number of movies and generally enjoy his performance. He is an actor who can sing and as such, fell flat as Javert. He couldn't capture the spark that lead to Javert's amazing monologues. I'd be willing to bet that if those monologues had been spoken instead of sung, Crowe would have nailed them. Anne Hathaway, on the other hand, had us down there in the gutter with her feeling the last shred of dignity leaching out of all us collectively during "I Dreamed A Dream'. Even though her background wouldn't suggest it, Hathaway is a singer who can act - and a damn fine one too.
As a voice teacher (and sometimes acting coach), I feel this is an important distinction to make, but it's an almost impossible thing to teach. Some of my students will never become singers who can act -- they have fine voices, but cannot give themselves over completely to the song. They take a technical approach to the song often times with lovely results, but lacking in emotion beyond whatever dynamics that are written into the piece. I have a few students who are solid actors that cannot translate that into song -- give them a monologue and they'll deliver. Give them a song and they may sound nice singing it, but they can't take it further. It takes courage and instincts that not all singers possess or can find in themselves. For the students where this comes fairly naturally -- and I have a couple -- I don't have much to teach them in this area, but instead, I throw ideas out at them for different approaches to take or places where they need to amp it up or tone it down and watch what unfolds.
When I was a voice student, I was fortunate enough to work with a coach who had performed and taught all over the world. She has some big names on her list of former students and, in her youth, had some wonderful opportunities. One day, she told me that one of her former students was a voice actor in a popular Disney movie. She concluded that while he was a good voice student, she knew that he would end up with speaking roles. At the time, I thought she was being kind about this person's singing abilities. Now that I'm a teacher and have experienced it for myself, I finally understand what she meant.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Wait. You should get paid to do that?!
Like so many churches across the U.S., ours is having budget issues. Things are looking up as people have stepped up to the plate and increased their pledges. A definite good thing. One thing that has come out of it is a hard look at what our church spends its money on including the music program. I think this sort of evaluation is a good thing -- are we sticking to the mission of the church? Are we using our money wisely? Of course the music program is being evaluated -- we're one of the biggest budgets for the programs and committees of the church. It's a significant amount of money -- not the largest budget compared to a few churches (mainly in the Boston area), but large by some standards. For what he has to work with, my boss has put together one of the top music programs here in the state.
During this process, though, some interesting viewpoints have come to light. The one that sticks in my craw is the idea that we as musicians should be doing this for free. This includes my boss, the Minister of Music. The rationale is usually along the lines that either music is just the "fluff" of the worship service or that we should give our services to the church because it's a church.
I can totally see how some people arrive to that first rationale. If you aren't into music, you aren't into. We try to run a varied program. I joke that our music program is much like the New England weather - if you don't like it, just wait for a few minutes. I think my boss does a phenomenal job of trying to appeal to as many as he can by keeping the selections varied -- everything from the "golden moldies" to modern. As a musician, I appreciate the variety as it keeps me on my toes from week-to-week. Unfortunately, you can't please everyone, though.
The second rationale makes absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. We don't expect our other ministers to work for free "for the good of the church" -- why should the professional musicians? My boss has his masters and has gone through the program that the American Guild of Organists offers that upon completion is pretty much on the level of getting your Ph.D. It's intense. Personally, I spent years (and tons of money) on my training to get me to where I am today. I do what I can to further my own education as time and money allows.
I think this whole idea of musicians doing stuff for free for the good of some cause or for the experience is common well outside of our church. Some think they're doing us musicians a favor just giving us that experience, so why should they pay us? Some think "it's just music" -- their kid can play a couple of tunes of the piano so how hard can it be? Yet, these same people would never expect their accountant to do their taxes for them for free or expect their doctor to give them a free exam or their minister to work at their church for nothing.
I am grateful that I know so many people who do understand that music -- like any other profession -- is..well.. a profession. I wish everyone did. Unlike some professions, music can be treated as a hobby and I do admit that music is fun for me. I like what I do and it sometimes feel like I'm being paid to do my most favorite hobby in the whole world. But I have bills to pay and education to further. If the church can no longer sustain a budget that pays me to show up and use my expertise, so be it. But please don't expect me to come and do it anyways for free because it's for the good of the church. I may decide to stick around because I love the work and I have the best boss in the world. If I do stick around, the arrangement will be different, though. Because at that point, singing at the church will be fully in the hobby category. Expecting otherwise is unreasonable.
During this process, though, some interesting viewpoints have come to light. The one that sticks in my craw is the idea that we as musicians should be doing this for free. This includes my boss, the Minister of Music. The rationale is usually along the lines that either music is just the "fluff" of the worship service or that we should give our services to the church because it's a church.
I can totally see how some people arrive to that first rationale. If you aren't into music, you aren't into. We try to run a varied program. I joke that our music program is much like the New England weather - if you don't like it, just wait for a few minutes. I think my boss does a phenomenal job of trying to appeal to as many as he can by keeping the selections varied -- everything from the "golden moldies" to modern. As a musician, I appreciate the variety as it keeps me on my toes from week-to-week. Unfortunately, you can't please everyone, though.
The second rationale makes absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. We don't expect our other ministers to work for free "for the good of the church" -- why should the professional musicians? My boss has his masters and has gone through the program that the American Guild of Organists offers that upon completion is pretty much on the level of getting your Ph.D. It's intense. Personally, I spent years (and tons of money) on my training to get me to where I am today. I do what I can to further my own education as time and money allows.
I think this whole idea of musicians doing stuff for free for the good of some cause or for the experience is common well outside of our church. Some think they're doing us musicians a favor just giving us that experience, so why should they pay us? Some think "it's just music" -- their kid can play a couple of tunes of the piano so how hard can it be? Yet, these same people would never expect their accountant to do their taxes for them for free or expect their doctor to give them a free exam or their minister to work at their church for nothing.
I am grateful that I know so many people who do understand that music -- like any other profession -- is..well.. a profession. I wish everyone did. Unlike some professions, music can be treated as a hobby and I do admit that music is fun for me. I like what I do and it sometimes feel like I'm being paid to do my most favorite hobby in the whole world. But I have bills to pay and education to further. If the church can no longer sustain a budget that pays me to show up and use my expertise, so be it. But please don't expect me to come and do it anyways for free because it's for the good of the church. I may decide to stick around because I love the work and I have the best boss in the world. If I do stick around, the arrangement will be different, though. Because at that point, singing at the church will be fully in the hobby category. Expecting otherwise is unreasonable.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Giving Thanks Again
I just went back and re-read my list from last year about what I was thankful for. I'm still thankful for all of that, but I want to be more specific this year.
My Super Cool Kid: I'm continually amazed at her creativity and the stuff she comes up with. I'm also continually overwhelmed by how quickly she absorbs information and is looking for a fresh source of it. Both of these ideas manifest themselves in just about every aspect of her life.
I'm thankful that she's finally settling into "her things". Music is definitely her biggest thing, which I know is unsurprising given that she's been hearing me sing/play the piano/make some kind of music since she was in the womb. I love to watch her learn how to play the piano. I love to watch her learn a new rhythm when we drum. I am a super-proud mama watching her sing and chime at church. I love watching her connect musical concepts to other things -- today, was the rhythm of poetry. In fact, today, she became inspired to set a poem we studied to music. This is a project she wants to start in earnest with me next week.
I'm thankful that she's taking a more active role in finding new resources for information. She's starting to tell me what she wants to learn and how she wants to do it. I still get a say in the process (for now), but I'm thankful that she's giving me lots of direction. This has subsequently made school much easier because it's something that we both look forward to doing most days.
I'm thankful for her friends. While all of us home schooling parents know that lack of socialization for our kids is a myth, it's still nice knowing that she has a great (and expansive) group of friends. I've watched her blossom over the last year into a bit of a social engineer. She has turned into the kid that tries to include everyone. She quickly figures out someone's strengths and plays to that so they feel comfortable. I'm amazed that she can do this at six when many adults fail at this miserably.
My Patient Husband: Between home schooling, teaching voice/music classes, and performances, I pull a 50 - 60 hour weeks most weeks. I am thankful that he's supportive (and helpful) on the home school front and understanding on the work front. I am also thankful that even though he's busy between his job and whatever projects he's into, he still manages to pick up quite a bit of the slack.
My Growing Studio: This year, I'm the busiest that I've ever been. My voice student had a huge influx of new students over the summer and has been steadily growing since. I'm thankful to see my business grow even though economic times aren't the best.
I'm also thankful for my students. They continually challenge me. The old saying says that you learn when you start to teach. This is absolutely true. I'm a better singer than I was before I started teaching. I have a huge bag of tricks and ways to teach my students various concepts. All the time spent at the piano with my students has bettered my keyboard skills to the point that I'm less uncomfortable playing in front of an audience. But what I'm most thankful for is that I really like all of my students. I don't have any crazies. Whether they admit or not, I think they all want to be there for their lesson and are enjoying the process.
My Friends: I have the coolest friends. You know who you are. Some of you I see all the time. Some of you I wish I could see more often but schedules or distance makes that a challenge. Some of you I see on Facebook and that's it. I am thankful that I'm connected to you however I am and I am thankful for the laughs and conversation and the support and stability.
As I sit down to my Tofurkey dinner, I look forward to giving thanks for the huge bounty good stuff in my life.
My Super Cool Kid: I'm continually amazed at her creativity and the stuff she comes up with. I'm also continually overwhelmed by how quickly she absorbs information and is looking for a fresh source of it. Both of these ideas manifest themselves in just about every aspect of her life.
I'm thankful that she's finally settling into "her things". Music is definitely her biggest thing, which I know is unsurprising given that she's been hearing me sing/play the piano/make some kind of music since she was in the womb. I love to watch her learn how to play the piano. I love to watch her learn a new rhythm when we drum. I am a super-proud mama watching her sing and chime at church. I love watching her connect musical concepts to other things -- today, was the rhythm of poetry. In fact, today, she became inspired to set a poem we studied to music. This is a project she wants to start in earnest with me next week.
I'm thankful that she's taking a more active role in finding new resources for information. She's starting to tell me what she wants to learn and how she wants to do it. I still get a say in the process (for now), but I'm thankful that she's giving me lots of direction. This has subsequently made school much easier because it's something that we both look forward to doing most days.
I'm thankful for her friends. While all of us home schooling parents know that lack of socialization for our kids is a myth, it's still nice knowing that she has a great (and expansive) group of friends. I've watched her blossom over the last year into a bit of a social engineer. She has turned into the kid that tries to include everyone. She quickly figures out someone's strengths and plays to that so they feel comfortable. I'm amazed that she can do this at six when many adults fail at this miserably.
My Patient Husband: Between home schooling, teaching voice/music classes, and performances, I pull a 50 - 60 hour weeks most weeks. I am thankful that he's supportive (and helpful) on the home school front and understanding on the work front. I am also thankful that even though he's busy between his job and whatever projects he's into, he still manages to pick up quite a bit of the slack.
My Growing Studio: This year, I'm the busiest that I've ever been. My voice student had a huge influx of new students over the summer and has been steadily growing since. I'm thankful to see my business grow even though economic times aren't the best.
I'm also thankful for my students. They continually challenge me. The old saying says that you learn when you start to teach. This is absolutely true. I'm a better singer than I was before I started teaching. I have a huge bag of tricks and ways to teach my students various concepts. All the time spent at the piano with my students has bettered my keyboard skills to the point that I'm less uncomfortable playing in front of an audience. But what I'm most thankful for is that I really like all of my students. I don't have any crazies. Whether they admit or not, I think they all want to be there for their lesson and are enjoying the process.
My Friends: I have the coolest friends. You know who you are. Some of you I see all the time. Some of you I wish I could see more often but schedules or distance makes that a challenge. Some of you I see on Facebook and that's it. I am thankful that I'm connected to you however I am and I am thankful for the laughs and conversation and the support and stability.
As I sit down to my Tofurkey dinner, I look forward to giving thanks for the huge bounty good stuff in my life.
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