Storytelling

11 Things Small Business and Fire Departments Should Have In Common

Leave a Comment / Classroom Teacher, High Schools, Music Department, Public Schools, Sales and Marketing, Small Business, Storytelling, Teaching, Teaching Music /

My dad was a 32-yr career firefighter, retiring as an Assistant Chief for a moderately sized, full-time department that had about 10 stations throughout the city. I recall a childhood time when my siblings and I were vising him at the firehouse. When the alarm sounded, he abruptly pointed to the wall, and said

“Stand right there ’til someone comes for you.”

Immediately, 10 doors (5 front, 5 rear) open, the intercom is announcing location and status, and people are hustling from every direction Twenty seconds later, the building is open, empty and quiet. One of the dispatchers invited us into his area while our mother scrambled to come pick us up.

As a small business owner, I believe some of my Dad’s Fire Department practices could help Small Business when it comes to putting out fires. Here are 11 things Small Business and Fire Departments should have in common.

Fire Departments

  • The Facility is well cared for. There are assignments (often seniority based) for sweeping/moping, washing/waxing, cooking, dishes, janitorial, supply maintenance, inventory and more. Rookies get the grunt jobs, but everybody has assignments and responsibilities with accountability.
  • Saving time is paramount.Vehicles are always facing the door for quick departure. Driver doors are left opened. Boots and pants are kept close to the truck (or the bed) and set for the firefighter to step into the boots and pull up the pants. Coats and helmets are on the truck to be added en route. When the bell rings, things happen and seconds count.
  • Equipment is organized and ready. Hoses have been carefully cleaned, inspected and rolled, and tools have been cleaned and stored so everyone knows where they are. Tire pressures, water levels and fuel have all been checked and readied. Efficient access is essential.
  • Skill sets are in place for lots of contingencies (types of fires, whether people are at risk, etc). Sometimes things don’t go the way they’re supposed to.
  • Practice, practice, practice. They practice driving through the streets (need to know every street, location of every fire hydrant), practice moving through smoke and fire, climb ladders, spray water, use the tools, lots of speed tests, inspections and homework. Ready to perform.
  • Group and Individual Goals plus Assignments are clearly defined, understood and bought into. There is no discussion about who gets to shoot the water cannon or hook up the hoses. They already know who is primary and secondary in hose control or who is going up the ladder first. Avoid unnecessary drama.
  • Coordination, Collaboration and Communication are essential. Control the traffic lights, mobilize police, roll the ambulance if needed or in doubt, notify the hospital and street departments, hold the trains, and get the business owner on the line. My dad always said, “We’ll be there in under 90 seconds”.
  • The Chain of Command is absolute. On a fire fun, the police are in support mode. Everyone has expertise and input, but primary is to trust and obey, for there’s no other way.
  • The only pic I have of my dad at a fire and he is there in street clothes. As the Asst off-duty Chief, he’s there getting his hands dirty.

    Firefighters know who they work for and will sacrifice to serve. When someone calls 911, firefighters will do what firefighters did on 9/11.

  • No firefighter is ever left behind.Period.
  • When the gig is over, get ready for the next one. The trip back to the firehouse can be exhausting, but some things can’t wait until tomorrow.

————————————————–

Small Business

  • The Facility is well cared for. What does your work area look like at the end of a day? Are there water bottles, messy desks, stacks of mail and reports? Unless you have a fantastic janitorial staff, make assignments. Delegate. What is your expectation for facility cleanliness and functionality?
  • Saving time is paramount. When it is time to start, is everything ready? Is there an agenda, task list or to-do list for the day?
  • Equipment is organized and ready. Desks are clean, waste baskets empty, floors swept, restrooms supplied, light bulbs in, etc? When that important phone call comes in, you don’t want to have to spend time getting ready to handle it.
  • Skill sets are in place for contingencies. Have you cross trained employees so that you can still function if the secretary, receptionist or warehouse manager are out sick or otherwise unavailable? Can you still answer phones, respond to emails, texts, faxes or social media messages, know where to find records when needed to answer a customer call or complaint, load or unload the truck and know where to place or retrieve product?
  • Practice, practice, practice. Schools have monthly fire drills even though there hasn’t been a school fire-related death in over 60 years. They also practice tornado drills and, increasingly, active shooter drills. Hopefully they never encounter any of those, but if they do — they have a better chance survival because they practiced. Having a list of procedures or contingencies is good, but nothing is better than practice. Practice your cross-trained assignments.
  • Are Group and Individual Goals plus Assignments clearly defined, understood and bought into? When a fire fighter makes a mistake on scene, someone can die. Business is not usually life and death, but do your order fulfillment personnel understand what happens when they make mistakes?

One of the most effective practices I put into place was to bring in a salesperson to talk to our order fulfillment crew and explain to them what happens to his customer, his income and even their jobs when orders go out with too many errors.

  • Coordination, Collaboration and Communication are essential. You have administration, management, office and warehouse staff….do all the appropriate people know what you are doing? Do you?
  • The Chain of Command is absolute. Everybody needs to be on the same team, but there can only be one coach. Encourage and welcome input, but make sure the team understands that once a decision happens, debate ends and action begins.
  • Employees know who they work for and will sacrifice to serve. If they won’t go above and beyond for you, then you have a different problem. Strive to instill pride and earn loyalty.
  • No customer is ever left behind. Period.
  • When the gig is over, get ready for the next one.

Meticulously planning and preparing for, and then efficiently and effectively fighting “fires” is something both fire fighters and small business owners should be good at. Business should be ready, but not always “putting out fires”.

The purpose of THIS post is to encourage you to be READY and SET so that when the alarm rings, you are prepared to GO!

Thanks for reading,
JohnGardner@VirtualMusicOffice.com

I wrote a tribute to my Dad, the firefighter, and included description and picture from the worst fire he ever fought…. the Beverly Hills Supper Club fire of 1977 that took the lives of 165 people, including my high school clarinet teacher. I also talk about his Fire Chief experience with accusations and responses to sexism and racism. Read more…. 

 

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Storytime: Police Stories

2 Comments / Assistant Directing, High Schools, Personal experience, Storytelling, Teaching /

Over the years, I would share stories with my students. They really enjoyed my police encounter stories. I’ve consolidated all of them (I think) here.

Three cops in front of Salem house during father-in-law July 4th visit. 

It was my second 4th of July parade at Eastern HS in Pekin, IN. That parade is the longest, continuous July 4th parade in the country. 

This time, I’m married. And Joan’s dad is coming to visit.

I drove to Pekin (11 miles from Salem) to open the building but realized I had forgotten my school keys. There was not enough time to drive back to Salem to get them, so I went to a janitor’s house in Pekin. The janitor wasn’t there, but his wife was. I asked if I could borrow the school keys. She was very nervous about lending them out, but made me promise to bring them back immediately after the parade. Of course.

But, I forgot. The parade ended, the band put their stuff back in the school, I locked up and headed to Salem for dinner with Joan and her dad. I was almost there when I realized I still had the keys.

I rushed back to Pekin, over speed — and upset with myself, profusely apologized for being late with the keys, and then raced back to Salem. 

I passed a car on the railroad tracks on the way into town but didn’t think much about it.  I went three quarters around the courthouse square and up the slight hill that would take me to my neighborhood. I saw the police car parked on the side of that road, knew I was speeding, and concluded I’d be pulled over. I waited for the lights, but didn’t see any, so kept going. 

As I was preparing to turn into the driveway of my house, there were suddenly THREE police cars (two local and one state trooper) behind my car with lights flashing. Not only was I making a great impression for the neighbors, but the large picture window in our living room offered a great view for Joan and her dad. GULP!

Only the local cop directly behind me got out of his car and came up to my window. 

“Sir, I noticed that you passed a car on the railroad tracks and I was going to pull you over to talk about that. But, when I got turned around, I couldn’t catch you. And, then, you passed another car very quickly. They couldn’t catch you and called for backup. Are you okay?”

Once I explained who I was, i.e. a band director involved in the Pekin parade and the issue with the keys, he didn’t forgive me…..but he didn’t ticket me either. 

The police left and I got to go in and discuss my terrifying first impression on my father-in-law.

“Did you forget to pay for your gas?”

This event happened in Huntington….and, once again, Joan’s dad is visiting. 

In the 80’s, we had a Ford Conversion Van that was great for traveling with two young sons. It was not good on gas but had two gas tanks with a switch inside to go from one to the other. It could take a while to fill the tanks, so if I was at a station that had two pumps close enough, I would put a nozzle in each tank. 

This was prior to “pay-at-the-pump”, so I would normally finish up and go inside to pay. I would tell the cashier I had “pumps 1 & 2”, but most of the time they already knew that. 

On one particular day at a station just a couple blocks from our Vine Street home in Huntington, I can not recall whether I failed to ask or notify about the two pumps. I should have known there was a problem with the amount, but my mind really wasn’t there, for some reason. One of those reasons could be that Joan’s father was visiting. (Note: that he was visiting during my Salem story.)

From the gas station, I went home and was in our living room with Joan and her dad when there was a knock at the door.

The local policeman simply asked if I had forgotten to pay for my gas. I explained to him that I had, but then together we figured out I had paid for one of the pumps, but not both. I assured him I would take care of it immediately. And I did.

Don’t Mess With Texas

I was pulled over three times in thirty minutes.

The Fund Raising Association to which my company (QDP Corporation) belonged had its annual meeting/convention was in Houston Texas. I drove my 1978 Ford Conversion van and transported 5-6 other people. It was a comfortable way to travel and cheaper than buying that many airline tickets. 

The convention ended at the end of a day (@5pm) and after loading up, we departed for the drive home. With multiple drivers, the plan was to drive through the night. 

It was late into the evening when I noticed a police car going the other way on the highway make a u-turn after it had passed me. I didn’t think I was speeding, but as he caught up with me and turned on his lights, I pulled over. It was a town marshall who wanted to point out that I had a rear tail light out. No ticket. I assured him I would get it fixed — and we were on our way. 

A few minutes later the same thing happened. U-turn, flashing lights, and a pullover. This time it was a city policeman (I don’t remember the city). Same conversation. Same assurance and we were off again. 

Within thirty minutes from the first stop — it happens again. This time it is a Texas Ranger. He asks me to step out of the van and takes me to the back to show me the light out. This time I asked where I could get a light bulb this time of night. He said there was a truck stop a few miles ahead. I assured him we would stop. No ticket. 

At the truck stop, we purchased the bulb and a screwdriver and made the repair. As we pulled out of the truck stop, the Texas Ranger was parked across the street. He did not pull me over again.

I did buy a “DON’T MESS WITH TEXAS” t-shirt at the truck stop.

A CDL helped….for a while, it seemed

For a few years at QDP Corporation, we had a large enough delivery truck that a driver had to have a “CDL” (Commercial Driver’s License). It required renewal more often than a regular license, but during the years I had one, I did not get a ticket when driving my car, even though I was pulled over multiple times. 

It seemed like such a reasonable amount to pay for “ticket insurance” that I kept it going even after we sold that truck and I no longer needed it. But my luck finally ran out…and then it was worse. 

I was required to go to a driver training session. It was run by a State Trooper and nearly all of the participants were truck drivers, complete with beards, bellies (I have that one covered) and a temperament that looked like they were ready to throw their chair at the Trooper. 

After that, I allowed my CDL to expire and went back to a regular Driver’s License. 

I’ve had a few speeding tickets over the years, but most of my violations are for not slowing fast enough coming into a town. I would turn off the cruise when the speed limit dropped, but would not always touch the brake and, therefore, if it dropped too quickly from 55 to 45 to 35….I would still be going too fast. 

I do better now and haven’t had a ticket for several years.

Note: the remaining stories happened while I was teaching in Huntington

Nearly fired on the first day on the job?

My sons were in the bands between 1995-2001. During a Band Parent meeting, I let the director, Thaine Campbell, know that I had been a band director, was a clarinetist, and would be happy to help any way I could.  

He started using me as a clarinet and woodwind sectional person during band camp. After my sons graduated, he added me to the “paid” staff for camp. 

I was hired in the summer of 2005 as the part-time Asst Director. My first day on the clock was the first day of band camp. I was continuing to run sectionals, and on the first day of camp, the clarinets were with me in one of the special ed rooms.

A tradition that we had (which I had started earlier as a band parent volunteer worker) was to “nickel” the clarinets of the rookies.

NOTE: A nickel fits perfectly inside the barrel of a clarinet. It completely blocks the airflow and it is impossible to play. The ‘joke’ would happen when I would ask the group to play. Most of the rookies would react immediately and quickly figure it out. But others would fake playing, which we all knew they could not. 

I asked the rookies to set their instruments in their chair and to go out into the hallway with the section leader for a few minutes. The section leader (usually a senior) was to tell them about expectations for camp, learning music, etc. 

While the nickels were being inserted, the classroom door starts to open. Not wanting the rookies to re-enter too soon, one of the seniors ran over and slammed the door shut. When we finished, we opened the door for the students to return.

A minute or so after that, the principal, the resource officer (or someone in uniform), and a teacher were coming into the room with walkie-talkies raised, ready to call for backup. The teacher for that room had come into the school and was opening the door to her classroom when it was “slammed in my face”. Yes, it was. 

The seniors took over and explained that it was a long-standing tradition and they misunderstood the door opening. Yes, they were protecting me. They could have said it was a tradition I started and a prank I was overseeing. 

I bet that was a story often told during the rest of that band camp day. It certainly became one of my favorite “Storytime” stories.

Caught with a drum

The community chorus has been performing Handel’s “Messiah” every December for decades. Over the years, they have borrowed risers, music stands and lights, and timpani from the high school to supplement what they are able to get from the university.

I got a call requesting the use of just one of our timpani. I took my minivan over to the high school, backed it up close to the service doors, opened the back, and went inside to the band room. As I was rolling the timpani down the hallway toward the service area, I noticed a policeman standing just outside Door 34. 

I went over and opened the door for him and immediately had to answer the question, “Who are you and what are you doing?”

All was well.

He explained that it looked suspicious to see a vehicle backed up to the large service doors with the back opened.

Surrounded in the parking lot

My report time for school has usually been after 5A lunch (about 12:15pm). Sometimes I stop on the way and pick up something for lunch. And since this was a marching band rehearsal day, I was parking in the west lot (tennis court side). From where I was sitting, I could see students in the cafeteria. It would be a great observation spot for someone with ill intent during student lunch.

It wasn’t unusual to see a police car come around from the front of the building. They do periodically patrol the parking lots, especially when they are looking for a particular car or checking parking stickers. 

But then, I noticed this police car had stopped almost touching my rear bumper. About the time I saw the officer getting out of the car, another car pulls up and pins me in from the front. And then a third car. 

I showed my school ID, explained my start time to work and they seemed satisfied and left. Apparently someone had called 9-1-1- from the area of the parking lot. Ok. Yes. I would want them to check that out. 

It made a great “Storytime With Mr. G. story in band rehearsal.

Police and Bubble People

Over the years I have been pranked several times. Even though I have no trees, I’ve been Tee-peed multiple times (students were careful to lay the paper in ways that it was easy to clean up). They have chalk arted my sidewalks and driveway, window painted both house and van windows. They filled my car with balloons. At school I was even plummed (several hats with plumes on my desk).

The most organized and persistent group was “The Bubble People”. They army manned the porch and yard with those tiny green toy army men and vehicles, saran wrapped the front and back doors to the house, and would leave “notes” on my home or on my desk at school. I really struggled with finding out who they were. No one would “rat” them out. I don’t remember how I got the first couple names, but over time, was confident that I had discovered the group.  Flute players. Of course. 

I contacted a police officer I knew and asked for help getting even. He brought a friend, and so, during a rehearsal one day, a pair of police officers came into the room. I read a list of names and asked those students to step into my office. I went in with the police officers and we closed the door. 

(I’ve wondered what the rest of the band students were discussing during this time. They were very quiet — probably trying to listen).

One of the officers started reading off “charges”…..

“You are in violation of statute 1234.B and statute abcd.x.”

The girls were getting anxious. When one of the officers unhooked his handcuffs, one of the girls broke down and the officer confessed, “Sorry, Mr. Gardner. I cannot continue…..”

I think my only response to the group was, “GOTCHA”. And they went back to class. I told the group:

“I just want you to know that I can take a joke. 

As long as you are not disrespectful, and no property or individual is hurt, 

I can take it. But know this. I also try to get even. And you have now witnessed an example.”

 

Storytime: Police Stories Read More »

Names students would call me to my face

Leave a Comment / Assistant Directing, High Schools, Marching Band, Personal experience, Public Schools, Respect, Storytelling, Teaching, Teaching Music /

DAD

My first teaching year, fresh out of college, I was only four years older than the seniors in the band. At Camp Crescendo, it was the band director’s responsibility to ensure students were all in the dorms for lights out. There was one particular senior girl, Sherrie P., who started calling me “dad” — and it stuck…at least, during camp. Every evening as I walked around the dorm area to ensure my “children” were all where they were supposed to be, I would hear variations of “Good night dad”…. And “Thanks for checking on us dad.”

I was worried about getting back to school for my first semester on the job and having students calling me “dad” in the hallway. 

Fortunately, that didn’t happen.

“G” …

…has been the most common and the most persistent.

“GARDNER”

I rarely felt like students were being disrespectful, or I would never have allowed that. The very few times that I questioned, I told them my first name is “Mister”.

GPA

Toward the end, instead of being 4yrs older than the seniors, I am 4x their age, older than their parents and maybe even some of their grandparents. 

Other Misc

“GEESTER”
“G-DOG”
“MR. G”

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Teen girls were my weakness

Leave a Comment / Classroom Teacher, Personal experience, Storytelling /

Ok. Ok. It is NOT what you’re thinking. C’mon, you know me better than that.

My problem was that I was having trouble hearing conversations, especially at school, which can be problematic. This intensified after a severe ear infection that never completely healed. My ears felt stopped up similar to what can happen when descending from a high altitude in a plane. There was a graduation ceremony, mid-infection, where I could not hear anyone. The other band director realized something was going on. Fortunately, school was out.

When a student, more often a girl, would come to me in a rehearsal, we would have to move into the office so I could hear without all the band noise.

One student explained it to another this way…..

He might ask you to repeat things a lot, and he doesn’t always get it right…..but you can be in another room and miss a note and he is on you immediately.

Voices were a problem. Wrong notes were not.

I was fitted for and received a moderately high-level pair of hearing aids.

They were supposed to be able to pull the voices out of the background noise, but that didn’t really work in a rehearsal setting. The band volume would often be painful. In church, I could hear the pastor better, but the congregational singing became too loud — so I stopped wearing them.

Fast forward two years past retirement, it was a large, noisy hotel meeting room with hundreds of people at tables of ten having conversations, which was the catalyst for unpacking the hearing aids and giving them another shot. There were several college friends at my table and I really wasn’t hearing any of them.

I got them out and tried to put them in….but something has died and the out-of-warranty repair cost would be several hundred dollars.

But there is good news.

Now that I am retired, part of my insurance covers an audiology exam AND a healthy allowance toward new hearing aids.

Stay tuned for updates.

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Virginia Beach Music Festival and the 3rd Floor Balcony

2 Comments / High Schools, Marching Band, Personal experience, Storytelling, Throw Back Thursday /

The Virginia Beach Music Festival was a multi-day event that included competitions in Marching, Concert, Parade, Jazz, and Inspection. 

Normally a band year has multiple seasons. Summer and Fall are mostly Marching Band. Some competitions included an inspection element, which included standing at attention for about 15 minutes while someone went through with white gloves and inspected selected instruments and uniforms. Marching season transitions into Concert Band — and Jazz Band starts up. Late Spring and early Summer is parade season. 

To prepare for Virginia Beach, all that had to be going on simultaneously. 

During school, the concert band would rehearse. Jazz Band was after school and evenings were a combination of marching, parade and inspection practice.

The campus had a long driveway that we used, but would often go through a couple of the neighborhood blocks. Inspections involved Copenhaver’s paddle. We would stand at attention and he would walk in front of us, stopping to stare and to grab and check instruments. If anything was wrong, he’d say, “That’s one”, which meant he would get you with the paddle when he got behind you, which could be several minutes later. And if you moved when he whacked you, guess what. Right. I never got the paddle. 

The first time Holmes participated in 1969, (my Freshman year) Holmes was Grand Champion. We returned in 1970 as “Honor Band” for the event. 

Director Copenhaver was from Virginia and our two Greyhound busses stoped at a park near his hometown for a community-provided picnic. I remember one of the busses got stuck crossing a small creek. 

Two memorable events at the hotel we used. First, was one evening during the week when Mr. Copenhaver was in the parking lot and looked up at many of us on the balconies and said, 

“They know we’re here.”

Other than when actually winning an event, it was the happiest I recall him looking and sounding. 

The other was an evening when a group of seniors came knocking on our door. I was in a room with three other freshmen boys. They were there for “initiation”, which normally included some combination of ice down the underwear with shaving cream there and everywhere else — and then locked out of the room. 

The four of us (I think we all four), went over the balcony. The floors were close enough together that we could go from floor to floor…. Until we could jump to the ground. 

I can’t believe I did that. 

But I never experienced “initiation”. And I never did that to anyone else.

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Some choices we made about how to raise our children

Leave a Comment / College Prep, Consulting, High Schools, Personal experience, Respect, Storytelling, Teaching /

Joan and I both come from broken homes. Her parents were divorced, remarried and divorced again. Her mother wouldn’t allow any contact with her father. For our wedding, Joan walked down the aisle alone. Joe was there for the ceremony but left immediately following. My parents’ divorce had less animosity. Our father was still in our lives. There were visits and support. 

But we were both on the receiving end of what we wanted to ensure would never happen to our children. Part of that commitment meant that we would never allow our parents, or anyone else for that matter, tell us how to raise our children.

Read more…

…

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Some choices we made about how to raise our children Read More »

Remembering Wayne, Marquis and Eva

Leave a Comment / Personal experience, Repost, Storytelling /

Remembering Wayne and EvaTwenty-six years ago, on Sunday evening, September 22, 1996, our good friends, church family, and business partners Max and Barbara Garwood and Joan and I with our two sons, were attending the third and final evening of church revival services. The Garwoods were noticeably distraught at the end of the service as they left quickly to find out why their three children, who were leaving the house right behind them to go to the church…..never showed up. It was just a few minutes later when I received Max’s panicky call telling me that he was on his way to the hospital for one of his sons – and asking me to call the Sheriff to find out the whereabouts of his other son and daughter.

Wayne, Eva, and Marquis were traveling down one of our country roads (a little over a mile from their home) when a car (the high corn prevented either car from seeing the other) ran a yield sign and broadsided the Garwoods’ Accord. Wayne and Eva were killed instantly and Marquis was thrown from the car. Marquis survived but struggled for years with migraines and other accident-related issues. Now, in 2022, he is happily married and has a smart, talented son.

I remember talking to a software customer the day after we put a message on our business phone system explaining why we were closed for a couple days. The comment went something like:

I was a little upset as I was dialing your number because I had this software issue….. but then when I heard your message, all I could do was cry. It made me remember a phrase from somewhere….’the problem is real, but remember that nobody’s dying here’.

Our older son and Eva were both 15 and close friends. John would be 18 before he expressed interest in getting his driver’s license. John is now happily married with three children.

Most QDP customers don’t know Max and Barbara Garwood because they hadn’t been involved in the day-to-day operations at QDP since even before 1996. Max was the original programmer for the DOS version of Ultra that we designed back in 1984, just as Microsoft® was releasing PC-DOS (Disk Operating System) for the new concept of Personal Computers.

For several years, we passed daily the two small crosses planted at the crash site. I promised the Garwoods in 1996 that we would “never forget”….so thanks for your understanding and reading as we remember our friends, church family, and business partners.

John & Joan Gardner

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When the teacher hears this “L” word from the parent.

Leave a Comment / Communication, High Schools, Parenting, Personal experience, Public Schools, Respect, Storytelling, Teaching /

liarIn a previous century, pre-cell-phone, almost pre-historic era, I had a memorable exchange when a pastor parent called me a liar when I told him what his daughter had done.

How do you think I should have responded?

================

As I walked into the small high school office, two band students had their backs to me as they used the counter phone. I entered just in time to hear one of the girls explaining that she was going to get home late because

Mr. Gardner called a mandatory rehearsal.

The caller’s friend, who may have already made her call home, saw me first, displaying a shocked face as I approached and asked for the phone. In front of the two band parent secretaries who also heard the student, I simply shared with the parent….

Hello, this is Mr. Gardner and there is no after school band practice today.

I handed the phone back to the girl and went on about my business in the office, not listening to the rest of that conversation.

A few minutes later, in the hallway, with no witnesses, of course,….this normally smiley, friendly, terrific student and valued bandster unloaded some vocabulary on me to express her displeasure. I might have brushed off a temporary anger burst, but I couldn’t ignore what she said — and I knew her father would agree. So I went back to the office to use the phone. Keep in mind that I had just caught the daughter in a lie.

Pastor A____, this is Mr. Gardner again. I just want you to know that your daughter just used some bad language with me that is both unacceptable and disrespectful. Because this is the first time I’ve had any trouble with her, I’m not going to write-up anything through the school, but will be giving her some temporary extra band responsibilities as discipline for her behavior.

(Details shared.)

Pastor: My daughter doesn’t curse.

Sir, I’m not giving you second-hand gossip. I’m not telling you what I heard or what someone else told me. I’m giving you a first hand report about a face to face conversation to let you know that I will require your daughter to spend some extra time working in the band room as discipline for her behavior, and wanted you to hear it from me.

Pastor: You’re lying. My daughter wouldn’t say those things and you’d better not discipline her.

The daughter later apologized, completed her mandatory volunteer work around the band room, and hopefully learned and grew from the experience.

But I never visited her father’s church.

 

VMO Business Card

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Did I really say something ‘racist’?

Leave a Comment / Assistant Directing, Family, High Schools, Music Performance, Personal experience, Respect, Storytelling, Teaching, Teaching Music /

In the high school bands I teach, we are just beginning to work on Africa: Ceremony, Song and Ritual. (Click that link to listen and follow the conductor’s score). It is an incredible piece of music written to display some of the beauty and complexity of African music and drumming.

I have two “racist”-related stories to go with our preparation of this piece. The first happened several years ago when I invited (and then had to un-invite) an area African drumming group to come to our school to lead a Master Class for our students and open our concert. That will be for another post.

More recently, as part of our discussion and preparation, I spoke with the class about how African drums are considered “sacred” and that we would treat this music and our performance of it with that type of respect.

As part of that discussion, I spoke a little of my son’s study abroad experience during his undergraduate work at Duke University, when he spent a summer in Ghana. He was one source of telling me how reverently the Gananians treated the drumming instruments. He also told me the exceptional level of respect they gave “white people”, and especially men.

He stepped over some local cultural norms when he insisted on helping with the food preparation and in washing his own clothes. And it should be noted that the home where he stayed was considered one of a “nobleman” from the area.

Not comfortable with the female servants doing his laudry, David tried to do his own. The best he could get was for them to let him help them.

“Everyone wanted their picture taken with the white guy, and they wanted hugs. When I went to church, they would always set me on the front row, if not on the platform itself.” -David Gardner

What really sparked the shocked response was when I told this class (mostly white with a small hispanic component) about my son’s experience in a Drumming Circle, where several of the students from his trip participated. The comment that the drumming leader made (multiple times) was that….

“You all are playing like a bunch of WHITE PEOPLE.”

When I shared that quote, I got a noticeable gasp of disbelief and shock. I went on to explain that this was not something a white person said, but rather was a critical statement made by a Gananian African about how non-Africans were playing his instruments.

I was not trying to be or show any form of racial disrespect, but rather, to use a quote from someone who should know the instrument….. Incident averted.

Did I really say something ‘racist’? Read More »

My Philosophy of Education and why I interact with students the way I do

Leave a Comment / Classroom Teacher, High Schools, Personal experience, Storytelling, Teaching, Teaching Music /

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My Philosophy of Education and why I interact with students the way I do Read More »