Repost

3 days in the U.S.S.R.

Russian Ruble from 1972

In the Fall of 1971, I received an invitation to participate in the United States Collegiate Wind Band, which would tour Europe and the USSR in the summer of 1972. Two from my school were invited. We both turned it down.

Word got to the local newspaper that I had been invited. A bank contributed half the amount and there was a drive to raise the other half. There was a picture of me in full Holmes MB uniform in the paper. Because I delivered newspapers, the headline was for a Newspaper Boy invited to travel to Europe and USSR.

It was a three-week tour. I flew out of the Cincinnati airport to New York, where I met the directors and staff. Professor Al G. Wright, Director of Bands at Purdue University, and his wife Gladys were the directors. The staff member responsible for woodwinds was Diana Hawkins, daughter of the Director of Bands at Morehead State University.

There were approximately 120 in the band, representing 26 states. Towards the beginning of the rehearsal process, we had auditions and I was appointed 1st Chair Clarinet.

Tour Stops

BRUSSELS and ANTWERP, Belgium

LONDON, England

PARIS, France

COPENHAGEN, Denmark

ZURICH and LUCERNE, Switzerland

MOSCOW, U.S.S.R.


Moscow, U.S.S.R.

1976 was in the “Detente” time between the US and USSR. We were a token of that effort.

It was a tense trip for us. Keep in mind that the Cuban missile crisis was only nine years old and the arms race was in full force (until the ’72 treaty).

We were to depart from a Swiss airport for the 4-hr flight to Moscow, arriving in the early evening. It wasn’t until we arrived at the Swiss airport that we learned the Soviets had decided we would fly in on one of their Aeroflot jets, which didn’t leave Moscow until they confirmed that we were waiting. That 4-hr wait plus the 4-hr flight ensured our arrival in the middle of the night, when no one would see us. Not an accident, I’m sure.

We did not pull up to the large, impressive airport terminal, stopping instead a fair distance from it. Our welcome included two busses, which pulled up alongside the planes, and two armed guards (rifles) standing at attention at the doors. We were instructed to deplane and get on the busses. “Your luggage will be taken to the hotel for you.” Not only did that prevent our entrance into the airport terminal for baggage claim, but it also gave them a few hours with our luggage.

The bus ride to the city was annoying and uncomfortable. Each time the manual transmission bus would get up to speed, the driver would shut off the engine and we would coast…. then as the speed decreased to a near stop, he would pop the clutch for a jerky engine restart and then repeat the cycle.

We were greeted warmly at the hotel and treated to some amazing food as they prepared us for our “orientation”, which also delayed our hotel check-in. Unlike our other stops, when we normally had at least half a day to ourselves and to explore the city we were visiting, the Soviet guides said we could not leave the hotel. The reason, “The Soviet people do not speak English and if you get lost, they won’t be able to help you get back.”

When we finally got our luggage, organized neatly and alphabetically for us, we discovered they had removed all the souvenir luggage stickers from the previously visited countries. There was no way to replace all that, and there was little doubt our luggage had been searched.

In most of the countries, we would get a “continental” breakfast (a roll and drink), were on our own for lunch, and then would get a good evening meal. In Moscow, we were fed multiple-course meals three times daily with some lasting two hours, leaving less time for sight-seeing. I tasted caviar for the first time there.

We never traveled by foot. As we bus toured the city, we kept seeing weird vending machines. Customers would take the community glass and put it over a nozzle for rinsing. Then they would dispense what looked like beer, stand there to drink it, then set the glass down for the next person standing in line. When we asked our guide we were told that “those are soft drink machines”. We concluded the machines were dispensing beer.

They took us to Moscow University, a huge, modern campus, and told us that college is free in the U.S.S.R.

We went to the pre-revolution section of “Old Moscow” to view poorly maintained buildings. “This is what Russia was like before the revolution“.

At a huge cathedral we heard, “Unlike what you hear in your country, there are 55 operating churches in Moscow“.

As we toured, we were constantly instructed when we could and could not take pictures.

Lenin’s Tomb was impressive and unique. The line to get in was very long. A married couple, still in wedding garb, was escorted to the front of the line. What an honor. Inside the tomb was extremely cold, dimly lit, and had a soldier every few feet. No talking. No cameras. And the main attraction……the actual body in a glass casket.

We were in Red Square, a huge area somewhat like a brick version of the National Mall in Washington DC, when we saw someone fleeing a group of soldiers. The soldiers released a dog. We’ve all seen videos of well-trained police dogs taking down and “holding” a criminal. Nope. Not this dog. We were too scared to take a picture. I did get one of some soldiers who were unhappy to have a picture taken by a teenager with a US Flag patch on his touristy shirt.

This was a music tour and we gave concerts before huge crowds everywhere we went. There was one town in Switzerland where they built us a stage in the town square and literally shut the town down so everyone could come. People wanted to hear us, meet us, talk to us, touch us, get autographs and pictures…. we were treated like famous guests everywhere, except in Moscow.

The Moscow concert was in an old building with a stage so small part of the ensemble had to set up on the floor and a pathetic audience of about 50. The explanation: “Everyone in Moscow has a job and you are giving a concert on a workday.”

Even the departure was eventful. In every country, we would exchange currency and try to end up with souvenirs. Our guides emphatically told us it was illegal to “smuggle” Soviet currency out of the country. I put a Ruble inside a chewing gum wrapper inside a reed box inside my clarinet case. Things got interesting as we were in the lobby of the airport preparing to board our Aeroflot plane when a group of people arrived and started physically searching us. I heard coins hitting the floor. That process took an uncomfortably long time…..enough that the plane was late for departure.

They wouldn’t allow us to leave until our director signed a document that we were late arriving.

Switzerland: Zurich and Lucerne

We spent nearly an entire week in Switzerland, a beautiful country with mountainous views. And the town of Lucerne went all out for us, building a stage in the town square and basically shutting down so everyone could come to the concert. They were friendly and appreciative. I bought my mother a small swiss cuckoo clock.

Paris, France

Paris was one of our final stops and I was running out of money. Our concert jackets were pretty fancy and we would be approached by “artists” who would draw or cut a caricature and then try to sell it to us. They expected us to purchase and I recall one angry artist pointing to my jacket when I tried to explain I didn’t have the money for his art.

London, England

I enjoyed the history a lot. I’ve always loved British pomp and pageantry.

3 days in the U.S.S.R. Read More »

Are Gifted and Talented programs racist?

Seattle Schools are closing its “Highly Capable Cohort” (Gifted & Talented) program because the claim is that too many of the participants are white or Asian…. “in an effort to make the program more equitable and to better serve all students, the district is phasing out highly capable cohort schools. In their place, SPS is offering a whole-classroom model where all students are in the same classroom and the teacher individualizes learning plans for each student.” Think about what that means for each classroom teacher.
Gifted and Talented
Our local schools had a GT program called “Project Challenge”, involving our sons …. until the system abruptly ended the program, leaving stranded students who were taking classes 2+yrs ahead of grade level. We fought the repercussions until we found an advocate who enabled one son to commute daily from middle to high school for math, to skip multiple years of Spanish and to take advanced classes at the university. Those programs are more common now, but they were not at the time we were involved. I wrote about it here: https://www.virtualmusicoffice.com/the-system-worked-for…/
We wrestled with teachers who wanted to use our sons as tutors (noble and helpful, but does not address their “special needs”) or to do individual study in the back of the classroom (like what could happen in a discipline situation).
We are seeing some of the results of closing most mental institutions and “mainstreaming”. How many tragedies are blamed on “mental health” issues? If people need help, let’s help.
And here’s another problem I have with the “too many whites and Asians” racist argument….. Which pro sports teams, such as NFL, NBA, MLB “mainstream” players to ensure they have a balance of ethnicities and abilities? No! We want to win, right? Olympic teams are not balanced per quotas. We want to win, right?
I won’t argue that DEI (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion), which sounds wonderful is the new AA (Affirmative Action), but it all seems so similar, aka fad trend of the era.
Yes, let’s work to benefit those with “special needs”, but special needs at both ends. Let’s NOT label people ‘insane’, but also, let’s not ignore them. We NEED GT graduates coming into our society, even if they are white or Asian.

Are Gifted and Talented programs racist? Read More »

Even with Polio, she always made lemonade

March is both “Women’s History” and “Disabilities Awareness” month. My hero, in both those categories, was my polio-inflicted mother.

Beulah McCormick was born in 1922 in a house (not a hospital) with an outside toilet. Her dad was a mean, verbally and physically abusive Irishman (McCormick) who was in the trenches of France during World War I. Growing up during the great depression, one of Mom’s journal entries stated, “There were no toys”.

At 12 yrs old, she was inflicted with one of the most cruel diseases ever…..polio.

In a 1935 pic taken 1 year after her infection, you can see that her legs are different sizes. She is likely bracing herself with her left arm (good arm).

Iron lungs enabling many polio survivors to breathe

She wasn’t as bad as some, who had to spend the rest of their lives in “iron lungs“, but her body was infected as if there were a vertical divide between left and right. Her right arm and leg were smaller, shorter, and weaker than her left. She had to buy two pairs of shoes because her feet were different sizes. She could write right-handed but picked things up with her left.

She refused to allow her disability to handicap life, evidenced by her high school class of 1940 1/2 voting her “most athletic”.

Hobbies included hunting, fishing, horseback riding, swimming, and gardening. She was a proficient typist and avid reader. She walked with a significant limp until her last four years when her back and knees just couldn’t do it anymore.

Her teenage friendship with Betty Swindler was so strong the Swindler family wanted to pay Mom’s way to go to college, but the proud papa wouldn’t allow it.

She thrived despite her parents.

Her childhood included going with parents (no choice) to area saloons to watch them drink and dance.

Somehow she got involved in a local church where she met her future husband. They had 5 children before divorcing affecting siblings from age 1 to 12.

So how does a divorced, polio survivor without a car, find a job and raise five children?

She was qualified, but never accepted welfare. Eventually, she took a job and spent about 25 yrs as an Activities Director at the Nursing Home she would retire from, move in to, and die in …. only two blocks from our house so she (and we) could walk to and from. I used to tease her for getting paid to play games all day.

My sisters had to experience daycare in a home nearby. Mom cried about that.

Life was plain, but she didn’t complain.

She paid her debts. Thankfully, the pediatrician allowed her to make $5/month payments.

We walked two blocks to a small neighborhood church my father’s parents helped start. She put a dollar in the plate and, when someone complained about the six of us for her dollar a week, swallowed her pride so we could have a better upbringing than she did. Kudos to the church for installing a handrail on the two steps going into the sanctuary. They did try. 

She encouraged us to sell lemonade to the golfers at the course down the street. Those lemonade sales paid for a bicycle I wanted and then for my part of a new clarinet.

Sometimes she got some extra sugar for her lemonade. Mom’s Aunt Georgia passed away and I distinctly remember walking with her and her uncle to the kitchen door that went into their garage.

“Beulah. Georgia wanted you to have her car. Here are the keys.”

Chores were a reality. She organized us in rotations for dish washing, providing a step stool until we were each tall enough to reach into the sink. Until I left for college, it was mostly my job to push the non-motorized mower, and I was not always the compliant, cooperative teen.

There was one episode where she was following me back and forth over the lawn convincing me with her belt that I should continue.

Another job I loathed was cleaning the dog pen. Grass and hedge trimming, leaf raking, and garbage taking were regular chores. The Christmas decorations weren’t so bad and I liked putting the flag out….but had to take it down at night.

As much as we didn’t have, Mom always helped us understand that there were other people worse off and that they needed our help. At Christmastime, she would ask us to give up a toy to be donated to a “needy” family.

When someone would knock at our back door asking for food, she would fix a fried egg or peanut butter sandwich.

Both parents were hunters, and when dad left, she kept her little (she couldn’t hold a full-sized rifle) “over/under” gun; a combination 22 rifle and 410 shotgun. I got to watch her use it once. There was a bad flood and the water from the river about a mile away covered the golf course, came up over the 4-foot wall at the end of our street and stopped about two houses from ours. In the aftermath, there was a terrible, thankfully temporary neighborhood rat infestation. She instructed us to get into the house when she saw a huge rat on our side yard sidewalk. From the bedroom window, we heard the ‘pop’ and saw the rat briefly stand up on its hind legs before tottering over.

Good shot, Mom.

I’m not sure how I got started in 5th-grade band. With all the other bills, I have no idea how Mom managed to pay off that rent-to-own clarinet that I played at Tenth District School. Seems the band teacher, James Copenhaver, in his very first year of teaching, convinced her that my aural testing was so high that she really needed to get me involved in band.

Another of her favorite stories was during my high school band time. Watching the end of a rehearsal, she heard Mr. Copenhaver say, “Gardner, you march like a cow.” She went up to him afterward and went, “Moooooo” and then identified herself with, “I’m the cow’s mother.”

Mom who taught me to drive, to shave, to do my laundry (for college), to polish my shoes, and to type. She made me take piano lessons, allowed me to take clarinet lessons and somehow managed to be there for most major events. She taught me conservation techniques; the thermostat seldom went above 60 in the winter. There was no air conditioning and the summer window fan had to be turned off before bedtime.

I learned the difference between a need and a want. She took care of my needs.

She wasn’t able to buy many gifts. One year, I had asked for a clock-radio. To make the gift opening last longer, she hid it and placed clues all around the property to help me find it. Like most teens, I wanted a car….so on my 16th birthday, she gave me a little battery operated VW bug and made it clear that would be the only car she would ever buy me.

There was an extended episode where her back was really messed up from her years of walking with legs of different lengths. There was a really hard-core brace that she had to wear for a while and I had to help her get it on and off every day. By the grace of God, she improved and was able to get rid of it. She confessed years later that she was afraid she was losing her ability to walk, which would have cost her the job she had….and she feared not being able to raise us.

We didn’t wear the latest fashions, but always had something respectable to wear.

My brothers always got my hand-me-downs. Sorry. We were all in band and had instruments and everything we needed for that. Three of us used my beginning clarinet and the pro-level horn I bought in high school. 

Grandpa McCormick moved in for several of his later years. After living alone for several years (Grandma Mamie died my high school freshman year), he married a lady who stole nearly everything he owned. Terrified and trounced, he came to live with Mom.

So after all the terrible things she had endured over the years, she would be his care-provider.

I was off to college and then away, so I didn’t have to deal with him much. On visits, at least, he seemed to have mellowed, although he could still unleash a verbal barrage on occasion. I hope he paid some rent to help with the finances, but I never heard and never asked.

Mom did well raising the five of us. No one is rich, but all five are self-sufficient and raising (or raised) a pretty good next generation.

Mom paid for all of her wedding because her parents would not.

In a 2001, handwritten letter, she wrote,

“my life has been very fulfilling and rewarding. Sometimes I am confined to “cell 423” (house number), but this week I went to the Reds ballgame (via radio) and “watched a horse race (TV) at Churchill Downs, tearing at the playing of ‘My Old Kentucky Home and ended in a “musical production in Branson, Missouri, where I had no parking hassels and had the best seat in the house.”

That was Mom, always finding the best in everybody, finding good in her situations and being thankful for what she did have instead of complaining about what she didn’t.

She used life’s sour lemons to make the best, sweetest lemonade.

Love you and miss you Mom…..and will see you soon.


PS Over the last several years, Mom always accused me of bringing the cold, nasty weather of Northern Indiana with me when I would come to visit. She would have said that again about her own funeral with the dismal driving rain that prevented the graveside ceremony.

“I know, Mom….. but I wanted you to know I was there.”

Beulah celebrating her 85th birthday, the last she would celebrate at her Baltimore Ave home.

Even with Polio, she always made lemonade Read More »

Selmer Series 10 and mouthpiece updates

selmer clarinetAccording to the 4-digit serial number, my Selmer/Paris Series 10 clarinet was manufactured in 1967. In 1968, my hs band director told my mother I had to get one. Not optional. He might as well have told her I needed a Mercedes for my first car. Dad made me a 50/50 deal, and after selling lemonade to golfers and hanging ad papers on doors … I got it.
I used it all through hs. It got me Solo/Ensemble medals, traveled with me and Holmes Band to KMEA and MENC, to Murfreesboro, TN and Virginia Beach, VA…. to All-State Orchestra, to band clinic and select bands, to summer music camps at Eastern Kentucky and Morehead State Universities, and followed me to Europe/U.S.S.R. with the United States Collegiate Wind Band in the summer between hs and college. I had to replace it at UK bc the clarinet prof kept saying things like,
“That was awful. I can’t tell if it was you or that crappy clarinet.”
clarinet2Anyway, I just opened packages of cleaning supplies, including swabs, key and bore oil, silver polish, swabs, disinfectant and more….. I want to see if it still has all the notes and speed it once did. Students have heard me talk about instruments with “speed buttons”.
Oh, working on my 1973-ish Buffet R-13 also. Both are considered “vintage” at this point.

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Rossini

Clarinet soloA few years ago, probably the last time I played thru a top-tier piece, I was alone on the local hs stage using Smart-accompaniment on a laptop and audio recording via phone…. I was probably preparing to assign it as I had made cuts for solo festival limits. I did flub the final 38-note run up to that high Ab (couldn’t hold onto it)…. but the rest of the 7-pages went well and fast, phone audio microphone considered.

Anyway… I recently shared the online link for someone to listen for some of the things we’re working on … (scales, arpeggios, chromatics, articulation, ornaments, etc). Told the parental I was going to look for the music. FOUND IT, well Joan did. No, not going to assign (yet), but do intend to use it for the above-mentioned fundamentals.

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Students are not Starfish

Starfish on the beachby John Gardner (via LinkedIn)

The starfish story (not my original) is about someone trying to make a difference and I think of it periodically when I find myself trying to balance that healthy, professional detachment from the lives of individual students with the reality and significance of those lives and my desire to make a difference by being more than “just” a classroom teacher.

Working with students is not a life or death proposition, of course, but some seem to get washed up on the beach. Here’s the story and 10 ways to make a difference. Those 10 ways represent my core beliefs in teaching and working with teens.

The man was out for a walk on the beach when he noticed a boy frantically picking things up and throwing them into the ocean. Curious, he approached the boy to discover that he was picking up starfish that had washed up on to the beach — and was throwing them back into the water.
“Son, what are you doing?” the man asked.
“The tide is going out and these starfish got left behind. I’m throwing them back into the water to save them.”
“But son, there are hundreds of miles of beach. You can’t possibly make a difference.”
As the boy picked up another starfish, he threw it into the water and then turned and said to the man,

“I made a difference to THAT one.”

———————————

Teen years can be trying times.  Parents may be fighting, separating, dating and remarrying, which means the teen now has to not only deal with a break up of a foundation in his/her life, but often now has to live in multiple households. Some have to adjust to step-siblings, job losses, financial struggles and more. Then, there are the complexities of school with seemingly unending pressures to perform, trying to get through the dating games, often without an anchor or example to follow. Influenced by increasingly negative social standards, or lack of standards….. teens can get caught in the rise and falling tides. Most learn how to negotiate life’s trying currents, but can turn the wrong way, make a miscalculation or poor decision — and find themselves high and dry on the beach…..and they need help. Not every student needs, wants or will accept a teacher’s help. Sometimes the teacher’s effort is both unappreciated and unsuccessful.

But try we must…because we CAN make a difference “to THAT one”.

Ten ways to make a difference:

  1. Be real. You can’t fake it with teens, they will see right through you. If you can’t be real, you should not be there. Please leave education.
  2. Be available. How easy is it for a teen to say to YOU, “Can I talk to you?”? What if it is not during class or immediately after school? In how many different ways are you available and do students know and understand that? Do they know if it is ok to email, call, text or instant message you? When a teen says they need to talk, somebody needs be available. Be that person. Consider your use of texting and social media.
  3. Be there. Yes, you’re “on duty” at school. What about when a student is in the hospital, at the funeral home, pitching in the softball/baseball game, getting baptized, being awarded Eagle Scout status, or when their garage-type band is playing at the coffee shop? Take your spouse or your kids and just be where you can when you can. They will notice.
  4. Trust them. If you want trust, you need to give some. I have a periodic discussion about trust, abusing it, losing it and the difficulty in earning it a second time. Read: “I WANT To Trust You“. Teens make mistakes and the trust area is one of those places where they can mess up. But help them learn. Take a reasonable chance. Yes, you’ll get burned some….but you will also empower leaders to rise up.
  5. Respect them. There is a good chance they will recognize and return it.
  6. Advocate for them. Of course you have students who are financially challenged and could benefit from music lessons, a better instrument, participation in a select ensemble or some other training. You won’t always succeed, but try to find funding to help. Call the employer to help him get that job. Write a letter to help her get that scholarship. Help them with college applications their parents can’t (or won’t).
  7. Listen, really listen. Teens typically think that people don’t listen. They think adults are quick to lecture, criticize and correct, but are slow to listen. You don’t always have to have the answer. Sometimes there isn’t an obvious answer. Sometimes listening is the answer, because in allowing them to share, you enable them to find their own answer. Unless they are sharing something illegal, dangerous, hear them out. Don’t argue. Don’t interrupt. Don’t pre-judge. And when you can, share your wisdom, experience, expertise and advice.
  8. Expect and Encourage Excellence. Students will complain when the load is heavy and the challenge is significant, but they know, even when they won’t admit, that achieving excellence requires work. They want to achieve and succeed. Being there for them doesn’t mean lowering your standards. Make them stretch. They’ll appreciate you eventually, even if not today.
  9. Don’t assume. A question I ask often is, “You okay?” Simple question….and sometimes they shrug it off, but there have been many times for me that this gives them the opening to ask for help.
  10. Don’t give up. It can be difficult, disappointing and even deflating when teens mess up. Don’t give up on them. That’s what the rest of society wants to do sometimes…. They will be disappointed that they disappointed you, but your unconditional support (not approving what they do) is vitally important to them.

Students are not Starfish Read More »

Solo Contest Checklist

ratingI prepared this list for one of my woodwind students and modified it some to include other instruments. There are links within this article to other articles I’ve written about literature selection, accompanists and the judging scoresheet categories.

Pre-performance

The basics. Music, instrument. People have forgotten both.

Solo Part – ORIGINAL for judgeMeasures numbered. 

Have you paid your accompanist? Customary, usually following performance. More about respect, preparation and appreciation for your accompanist, click here.

BRASS.

Valve oil

WOODWINDS.

Backup reed – in case something happens to yours that day.

Mouthpiece cap – Keep on when moving – protects and looks professional.

PERCUSSION.

Backup sticks/mallets.

Arrive at the school/venue about an hour before your performance time. Find your performance room and then you can go to warm-up. Don’t over-practice. Just review your challenging spots. Your ensemble should run through the piece. Note that these warm-up rooms can be noisy.

Performance Room

Arrive at performance room before your time. You can go in ahead of time (or anytime) and listen to other performers. Most in Group 2 will be h/s. If your accompanist is late because of accompanying someone else, just explain that to the door person or judge.

Have the book opened to your solo when you present it to the judge.

If judge asks questions, answer politely (as you always are).

Sit or stand. Your choice. I prefer standing. Judge may want to see your fingers, so don’t put the music stand directly between you and the judge. Be able to make eye contact with your accompanist.

Do not start until the judge tells you to. He/she may be completing notes on the previous performer. If permission received, play tuning note with piano – last chance to check your reed.

Be prepared to introduce yourself, your school, and your piece (title/composer).

When you finish, especially if there is any applause, a slight bow is appropriate to acknowledge. Applause is the audience saying thank you — a bow is your thanking them for the applause. Recognize your accompanist.

You will not get your music immediately – probably after the performer who follows you. You will not get your scoresheet. Those go to your band director at the end of the day. 

The door monitor will write your rating on the wall schedule.

Performance categories (sheet may vary slightly)

A separate post with addition scoresheet categories ===> HERE.

Intonation. Are you in tune with the piano? With each other (ensemble)? Do you have individual notes that are out of tune? Accuracy to printed pitches.

Tone. Resonance, clarity, control, focus, consistency, warmth.

Rhythm. Accuracy of note values, rest values, duration, pulse, steadiness, correctness of meter.

Technique. Facility, accuracy, articulation, fingerings.

Interpretation/Musicianship. Style, phrasing, tempo, dynamics, emotional involvement.

Performance factors. Choice of literature, appropriate appearance (related to performance), poise, posture, general conduct, mannerisms, facial expressions. Formal dress is not required, but jeans with holes and advertisement t-shirts will not only affect the appearance score, but also — judges can decide much about you before you play your first note. You are “on” from the time you take your performance position until you exit.


Did I forget anything? Let me know so I can improve this post for the next time. And note that rules per state are different… I tried to be generic in that regard.

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5 Considerations to Making a leap of Faith

Leap of faithby John Gardner

This graphic illustrates a scenario we all face, individually, in business, in school as well as in music ensembles. Most of us, at least once, have been to the edge, looked down, looked across and pondered the possibilities. It is easy to say you want to get better, but how do you make that leap to the other side?

Realize that not everyone WANTS to get to the other side.

Many are satisfied with the way things are, represented by this marching band member attitude:

I am okay where I am. I am not last chair, I can play my part reasonably well, I can pass the playing test. I see those people on the other side…..so much pressure, so much work, and for what? Band is a good social group. It is a good place to find a date, to make friends, to feel connected. I enjoy the bus rides, the longer the better. The band parent provided food at competitions is good and I like the freedom during the down time to hang with my friends and watch some other bands.

You are, after all, standing on solid ground. It is safe where you are. You KNOW where you are and are in your comfort zone. You look over the edge and see danger. You could fall, you could fail. You could get hurt.

WANT it….with everything that is within you.

You hear the musician who plays the more difficult solo or watch the marching band put on a crowd cheering performance. You see the elation at the award ceremony and YOU WANT THAT.

In “The Return of the Jedi”, as Luke Skywalker finally stands before his ultimate enemy, the Emperor says to the young Jedi who is viewing and considering his weapon,

You want this, don’t you?

Know that small, safe, baby steps won’t make it.

If you stand on the edge, look down and take a step, you will fall. The gap is wider than that and will require a running start LEAP.

Practice and Prepare to Perform!

Olympians don’t just show up at the games. Basketball players spend hours behind the scenes practicing boring free throws and doing exhausting repetitive fundamentals up and down the floor. The ice skater doesn’t decide at the start of the performance that a quad would be a good idea.

There is no short cut to success. You must be willing to pay the price.

The ice skater going for the quad is literally a “leap of faith”. There is never a guarantee of success, but repetitive practice, falling down, getting hurt, figuring out what went wrong and working harder to get better…..are necessary ingredients to establish confidence and competence to make the jump. A phrase I have used in rehearsals,

Like the ice skater who misses the quad, missing notes (steps, sets) in performance can hurt.

A good cartoon by Tone Deaf Comics illustrates part of this idea.

One more time

Commit to go….and then GO!

No more standing at the edge. No more looking down. No more considering the consequences of failure. Back up, focus on the other side, set your mind and then RUN hard at the edge. When the Israelites were crossing the river Jordan, the waters did not part until the priests feet touched the water, the point at which they demonstrated both faith and commitment (Joshua 3:14).

Once you commit to go, you have to “go all out”. Know where you’re going, practice and prepare, commit and go.

 

 

leap-of-faith-2

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Busy dedication

A cheerleader who cheers first half, runs to the band lineup to perform halftime, and then back to cheer for the second half.

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