I uncle was a policeman. My father was a fire fighter (Asst Chief)…. I was raised to respect our civil servants and I almost always do. Most of the time, when you watch video of a violent encounter, it starts with non-compliance and more toward the officer(s). But sometimes, officers go to far. That is the case here…..and, in this case, it is not this officer’s first time.
On the ground, arrested for failing to identify, you can see her id just a couple feet beyond where she landed.
Part of her arrest was for failing to provide id. She was trying to pull it from behind her school id on a lanyard. In the pic of her on the ground, yo can see her id just a few feet away.
The first video shows the violent removal. Prior to the release of the video, the town council was supporting the police officer and the prosecutor had set a trial date. Once the public saw it, all charges were dropped and officer was fired. In this report, you hear about this officer’s 10-day suspension where he worked last year because of his temper.
Someone on another platform responded to my “I Stand With Israel” post with, “You stand for genocide”. That is such a gross misunderstanding AND misapplication of the term. By definition,
“Genocides are a deliberate destruction of national, ethnic, racial or religious groups.”
That is NOT what is happening in Gaza.
I spent about 3 minutes looking up some “modern-era” genocides….. There is no comparison…..…
Modern-era Genocides
Rwandan (Hutus killing Tutsis)
April-July 1994 (@4 months)
800,000 killed
Bosnia and Herzegovina (Serbs against Bosnian Muslims)
200,000 Muslims killed
2,000,000 refugees
Cambodia 19779 (after US left Vietnam)
1,700,000 “Purified”
China 1949
CCP party starved 27,000,000
The Holocaust
WWII
“The Final Solution”
Nazis killed @ 6,000,000 Jews
Japan invaded China
1937
Up to 600,000 in Nanking in 4 days
Raped 20,000 women, most of whom were then killed
Ukranian Genocide
1932-33 by Joseph Stalin
7,000,000
Armenian 1915-18
1,500,000 killed by the “Young Turk” government of the Ottoman Empire
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.
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.
I was a music teacher in the system from 2005-2020 (retired). This happened during that time.
The hs building has over 40 outside doors. Custodians check those doors every evening because there have been cases of someone leaving a stone in a door to keep it from locking, sometimes for innocent reasons, others not so.
There is one particular door used primarily by the instrumental, choral, theater, and special ed departments. Special Ed is rarely there after school hours, but there is almost always something going on with at least one of the other departments for after school and/or evening rehearsals.
A security check revealed that our area door remained “pinned” (unlocked) one evening after everyone left. That is definitely a mistake.
Instead of talking to, reprimanding, or even disciplining the staff mostly responsible for that door, an edict went out to over a hundred faculty and staff members (“all call” style) announcing,
“Effective immediately, pinning a door unlocked requires administrator approval.”
After trying to think of a way the music department could work with that, the decision was that I would be the one to request clarification.
I sent an email so the admin could think it through vs an immediate response. It went something like this:
“As we discuss compliance with your directive about pinning a door, we have two general scenario possibilities for which we would appreciate further advice or clarification, please. Would you prefer that each of our departments provide you with an exhaustive list of days and times we request approval for enabling entry (music store dealer, parents/staff coming to assist with props, meetings, rehearsals….., students for after school lessons or evening rehearsals, etc., – or that we contact you for each such incident as it comes up?”
What do you think the response/reaction might have been? Hint: I wasn’t fired.
Student transferred from another school. One of my band missions was to check the mechanics of clarinets to ensure the best chance at getting the right notes. Note that some students come into hs playing the same horn they’ve had for 3-4yrs…. Sometimes they are fighting the horn.
Of course, most parentals would never drive a car four years without ever checking the tire pressure or changing the oil. But maintaining a clarinet? I actually had a parent ask me once, “Isn’t this the one you told us to buy?”
Anyway, this clarinet was especially intriguing. Why colored tape? The explanation was the director taught “color-coding”. Guess what I did.
I promised multiple stories. Here is Story #2. The first story is HERE.
I was a music teacher in the system from 2005-2020 (retired). This happened during that time…not sure the year.
$ $ $ $ $
Word came to the instrumental dept that one of our two contracted summer sessions would be cut from the budget and band parents could take over funding to keep both sessions functioning.
I was tasked with making our case before the board. The “conversation” went something like this…..
Me: Our FIRST summer session starts before the end of the Spring semester when we start integrating incoming students and preparing for the local June parade. Do you want the band to represent the school in the HD parade?
Board: Of course, the band MUST march in the parade.
Me: Our SECOND summer session starts a few weeks before the Fall semester and is when the band learns music, marching fundamentals, and the performance show for football games and band competitions. Do you want the band at the football games?
Board: Absolutely, the band MUST be at the football games.
Result: Funding continued for both summer sessions.
I am so angry about the gift card stories we’re learning about that I’m going to, in multiple posts, share some of my stories that happened before, during, and after…
I was a music teacher for HCCSC from 2005-2020 (retired).
Story #1: At a time when hundreds of thousands were misused, the music teachers were mandated to submit time sheets for summer hours worked, so the corporation could ensure we were putting in the hours contracted for. (Guess what the time sheets proved.) Each sheet had to be signed, and approved by the department head, the principal….and then they went on to the corporate office for additional approvals. Sometimes, once we documented the contracted hours, we stopped submitting the sheets as it was clear we were not going to get paid for any additional. Gotta watch those teachers, ya know.
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.
Musicians auditioning for acceptance or for music scholarships are working on prepared pieces — likely the same piece he/she is using for solo contest. An aspect of many auditions that are a challenge is the demonstration of sight-reading proficiency. Colleges want to know how quickly you can learn their music.
In most sight-reading circumstances, there will be time for you to preview what you are about to play. In a concert band festival, the sight-reading session involves 10 minutes to look over a piece (counting/clapping rhythms, checking out different aspects, before time is up and the judge is ready. Whatever amount you get, gage the time to get through the following:
Key signature. What key are you in? Finger through the scale. Look throughout and see if or how many times it changes during the piece.
Notes. Check range. If possible, sing or sound what you see…. Can you hear and sound what you see? Some people refer to those aural skills as “seeing ears” and “hearing eyes”.
Time signature. Does it stay the same or change?
Tempo. If marked, this should give you a general guideline, but keep in mind that is a performance tempo. For sight-reading, look for the most difficult passage that you will play, get a quick idea of how fast you think you can play it accurately, and use that as your overall tempo. Once you start, you don’t want to change the pulse depending on difficulty.
Rhythms. Scan for anything that looks tricky and take a moment to count, clap, sing or whatever — to get that/those rhythm(s) in your head.
Dynamics. Scan for them and then be aware as you play.
Stylistic markings. Staccato, legato, articulation, accents, etc. The tendency in sight-reading is to concentrate on notes, which are primary but watch for the other signs as you go. Like driving the car, staying on the road (notes) is important, but watching the road signs (slow down, stop, cross-walk, etc) are equally important to getting to your destination safely.
Once you start – DON’T STOP! If you miss a note, that one is history, you can’t go back and fix it … part of practicing for sight-reading (or for any performance) is to force yourself to continue.
Finding music to sight-read. Get books from other similar-range instruments. Pick random hymns in a church hymnal. Check the band director’s office. Go to the music library and pull out random pieces. For sight-reading practice, however, don’t keep playing the same piece(s), unless it is to prepare them for performance or to see how quickly you can perfect them.
Another important aspect to sight-reading is evaluation. If possible, have someone else listen to you and critique what you played. You may be playing a rhythm wrong that you will continue to play wrong.
Hope this helps. Add your comments or send questions.
Someone on another platform responded to my “I Stand With Israel” post with, “You stand for genocide”. 
Student transferred from another school. One of my band missions was to check the mechanics of clarinets to ensure the best chance at getting the right notes. Note that some students come into hs playing the same horn they’ve had for 3-4yrs…. Sometimes they are fighting the horn.
I was a music teacher in the system from 2005-2020 (retired). This happened during that time…not sure the year.
