On October 15, 2011, I got a call from my brother telling me the nursing home called to say they didn’t expect Mom to make it through the night. I was not only 120 miles from where she was, but I was over another 100 miles on the other side of Huntington.
The band was about to perform for final competition and would still be in Chesterton for another couple hours waiting for results. One of the parents offered to leave the competition (missing the band’s performance) to drive me back to Huntington. Mom had not been very conscious for a while. I knew if she had been, her strong desire would have been for me to…
“Stay with the band”.
I did, and it was 1:30 AM when we arrived back to Huntington. My plan was to sleep for an hour and then take off for Covington. It was about 2:00 AM when brother called again to say, “She’s gone.” I wouldn’t have made it even if I had kept driving — and probably not even if I had immediately left the competition.
Showed up on my Igram today. She was a teacher, a Christian, fired by her district…..but in the end, she won. Teachers should listen. PARENTS…. listen to her tell of direct instruction to lie to parents. Scary.
California’s Jurupa Unified School District has agreed to pay $360,000 to settle a wrongful termination lawsuit after public school teacher Jessica Tapia claimed the district violated her First Amendment rights when it fired her for not adhering to gender-affirming school policies. May 20, 2024
UPDATE: This pic is from @2016. I retired in 2020, but I still like this pic and believe the point I am making.
I worked with teens for years. I thrive on their youthful enthusiasm. I have always believed that if you show them that you really care about them as an individual, and treat them with dignity and respect, that they will give it to you in return. Can you see that in this pic?
Sent from Semi-State warmup. There is a story behind the pic….
Two years ago, I was following the band. About 30 minutes into the trip, I got a message that the percussion forgot their mallet bag. So Joan & I drove 30 min back to Huntington, got the mallet bag, and raced to Indy. By the time we got there and found them, they were in THIS visual warm-up area, last stop before going on the field.
As I handed the mallet bag out the window, I told them,
“This is not over.”
When everything was done and we were loading to leave, I called them over and reinforced for them how that was NOT a small mistake. When I told them I was disappointed, I started some tears. They knew I loved them, but also that I would hold them accountable. We were good by Monday class.
I also told them they would NEVER again forget their stuff. So….this is their telling me they remembered this time — holding out their mallets.
I did not include this story in my “Stories Through My Ages” Memoir for multiple reasons. It is difficult to explain and it makes ME look kinda, ummmmm, well, you’ll see.
I gave a copy of my book to three former bosses and one of them called to specifically suggest I add two stories, of which this is one.
In my first year teaching at the local high school, it was my assignment to turn out the stadium lights and lock the complex following evening marching band rehearsals there. These lights were the older mercury style that would flicker on and take 2-3 minutes to reach full brightness. Turning them on/off required the use of my master key to open a room under the stadium, taking a special forked key to insert into a switch box where the switch itself was internal and invisible. All done by feel. Easy peasy.
After one of my earlier times at this task, I switched the lights off, stepped outside to confirm, locked up the room and the gates, and returned across the highway and down the long drive to reach Door 34.
As I got out of my car, I could see the stadium lights ablaze. Confused, and not wanting to admit I couldn’t turn out the lights, I got back in my car, unlocked the stadium gate, drove to the under-stadium room, unlocked it, took the magic key, and turned out the lights (again). I stepped out of the room and, yes, the lights were out. I repeated the exit routine and went back to the band room.
Several minutes later, as we left the high school, Mr. Campbell and I were walking toward our cars when he asked,
“Didn’t you turn out the lights?”
I did. But, again, they were brightly on. He suggested I go back and try again, and then meet him at Wendy’s to get a Frosty, from where we could observe that the lights stayed out. Done. And done.
On another such night, when we didn’t notice, the police called the Athletic Director to tell him the stadium lights were on. He understood what was happening and explained it in such a way it would not happen again.
As it “turns out”, when I thought I was turning out the lights, I was not getting the internal switch to the ‘off’ position. So, in breaking the circuit, the lights did what they were supposed to do — cool down and then re-ignite. So, from the time I switched off, it might be several minutes later that they were back on.
Once I understood I needed a harder “click”, it never happened again. That stadium and those lights are gone. The new stadium has LED lighting that can be flickered in patterns when the team scores a touchdown.
It was at my first Regional Competition at Chesterton in my first year returning to education in 2005. Mr. Campbell and I were walking back toward the buses with the judges’ “Silver” rating results. I was wearing a new school windbreaker Mr. Campbell had given me.
“You might want to take that off or flip it inside out.”, he said, with no additional comment.
I questioned him. He simply repeated the advice which I ignored because it made no sense.
We climbed up the ramp of the trailer to talk to the band. After we spoke, and when students started coming up the ramp, Mr. Campbell stopped them and said,
“Not on here. We’ll come down.”
I still had no idea.
A few seconds later they were all squirting silly string at us. It was one of those “traditions” no one had told me about. There was a “band buddy” system in place where, throughout the season, members would anonymously get small gifts for their “buddy”. But on the final competition, everybody’s gift to each other was a can of silly string.
What a mess. But, as soon as it was over, all students picked up as much of the silly string as they could. I found that impressive, but I guess it was part of the tradition … and we were at another school.
The next year, at Lafayette Jefferson, I was ready, and so were the students.
But I had a problem with the tradition and shared it with them….not sure if it was in a subsequent rehearsal or at the band banquet, but it went something like this,
“I have two problems with this silly string tradition. First, you are making a mess at someone else’s school. I know you work to clean it up, but you cannot get all of it and so there is always “evidence” that we were there.
NOTE: I started using the phrase, ‘Leave no evidence’ anytime we were needing to clean up, such as when we were having snacks or celebrating a birthday.)
And second, you are “celebrating” a SILVER rating. Yes, you’re probably celebrating the end of the season, but it just doesn’t feel right. I don’t want you to silly string ME again until you receive a GOLD rating.“
There were no “silly string” celebrations in 2007-08. But, in 2009, the band received GOLD for the first time since 2001. Speaking for both directors, I made them a “deal”…..
“Let’s have our “GOLD-rating Silly String Celebration back at HNHS, following the band banquet. Bring your stuff to the banquet, and afterward, Mr. Campbell and I will, voluntarily, meet you outside Door 34. Of course, you will have to do clean up, right?”
Deal!
I did two things to enhance our celebration. First, I brought several cans of stringy for Mr. Campbell and I to use. We knew we’d be outnumbered and surrounded, but we would not be unarmed. But also, prior to the evening, I had gone to a small group of trusted parents……
“Following the banquet, Mr. Campbell and I are going to meet the band outside Door 34. They will surround us and silly string us. When THEY surround us, I want YOU to surround THEM, and when it all breaks loose, I want YOU to silly string THEM.”
NOTE: I was teaching when I wrote this. I have since retired, so rather than go through and edit what I am doing with what I did do, I’ll just put this disclaimer out there so you know.
Adults who are afraid of teenagers or who feel like teens of today are nothing like those from their day (adults have been saying that forever, right?) ….. or who think the quality of teens is crumbling….. should come hang out with the teens I get to spend time with.
As a teacher, I can’t use the “love” word, must avoid the “creepy” label (they DO use that word too much), have to be careful how I compliment the way someone looks, and often settle for handshakes and high fives when a good pat on the back or a hug seems so much more appropriate for the circumstance …. but I thoroughly enjoy my time on the school clock. I LOVE the youthful enthusiasm. I ADMIRE their dreams, goals, and aspirations. And I RESPECT those who make the best of their circumstances as they strive for excellence. I am all about encouraging achievers because they allow me into their lives. I “love” this job AND these teens.
My response to the parent who asked recently, “How do you put up with a room FULL of teenagers?” is “I feel sorry for those who DON’T get to experience a room FULL of teenagers.”
Some of the “types” of teens I admire….
I admire teens who thrive because of their parents…
Band students have complicated schedules that can challenge parental patience. There is the expense of instruments and extras (reeds, valve oil, drum sticks) — not to mention private lessons, summer camps, etc. Vacations get adjusted and, especially until the teen can drive, there are countless trips to drop off and pick up.
Some parents sacrifice soooo much in time, energy and money so that their teen can focus on being a better student, athlete, musician, academic or whatever. But all of that is for naught if the teen doesn’t take advantage of it. I admire teens who appreciate what they have and commit themselves to “getting their parents’ money’s worth”.
I admire teens who thrive in spite of their parents.
I was outside Door 34 prior to a rehearsal when she jumped out of the car and ran up to me, crying and wiping tears from her eyes, “G… I’m sorry…..I’m so sorry.” As she ran off into the building I got the impact of her emotion when I saw the approaching papa angrily waving a copy of our schedule.
“How much of this is mandatory?”, he asked angrily
“All of it.”, I responded quietly.
He huffed and puffed and returned to his car. When I walked into the band office, the daughter was waiting for me, tears streaming….wanting to know that I was okay after an encounter with her father. She needed a hug, and I gave her one.
Additional random examples….
“We’re going to pull our son out of band…..his room is a mess.”
“I can’t come to band today. I’m grounded and part of my punishment is whatever consequence I get from you for not being here.”
” He really loves band…..which is why this has to be part of his punishment.”
“She can’t major in color guard in college….so there is no point in the expense for her to be in this activity.”
“My parents took my band card money and my paycheck money. What do I do?”
“Here’s my paycheck to pay you back for letting me go to Disney. I will be able to pay you back from my job over the next three months.” (And did.)
“I have to stop taking private lessons because my dad says if I have money to waste on music lessons that I can pay rent.”
“G, I just got kicked out of my house.”
“Why are you telling my kid (s)he needs extra money for music lessons? Aren’t you the teacher? Why don’t you do what you’re getting paid for?”
“Why should I buy another [instrument]? I bought the one they told me to buy when (s)he started.”
Some of the most determined to succeed band students have parents I never meet. I understand busy and I understand the struggles of single parenthood (there were five kids in my single parent home) and it can be hard….yes, it can be hard. But it is sad sometimes to watch students try not to show disappointment when the parent is not there…. just sayin’.
I admire students who, despite the potential negatives of their circumstances…..are determined to succeed…..
When our practice did not bring everyone to the proficient level, occasionally I had to tell someone (or some people) to simplify or not play a particularly tough passage.
I only recall one time that I actually, after exhaustive (I thought) time devoted to one piece with outrageous runs, that I actually gave the woodwinds a “cheat” run. It worked, as the judges either didn’t catch it, or chose not to ‘ding’ us for it, but I always regretted resorting to that.
I did not include this story in my “Stories Through My Ages” Memoir for multiple reasons. It is difficult to explain and it makes ME look kinda, ummmmm, well, you’ll see.
Once I understood I needed a harder “click”, it never happened again. That stadium and those lights are gone. The new stadium has LED lighting that can be flickered in patterns when the team scores a touchdown. 
I spent much of my teaching career telling students that,