One of my all-time favorite Twitter encounters

If you're a teacher and you're not on Twitter, here's a good reason why you should be. Because you'd miss out on nuggets of wisdom and humor like this:

Celebrating the muisc of my heart - one imperfectly attempted song at a time

Celebrate This Week was established by Ruth Ayres

It's been almost a year since I made the decision to buy a new, shiny black baby grand piano. Just like the kind I've always wanted since I was a little girl.

I'd like to say I play it all the time and that I've gone back to the dedication and ability I had when I was younger and took piano lessons from age nine until twenty-two.

But here's the honest truth: Even though I play more than I used to, it's nowhere near as much as I thought I would.

I was hoping I'd revive some of the old classical pieces I used to play with such verve and enthusiasm that my hands would just remember how to play them. Pieces like Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C-Sharp Minor, Beethoven's Sonata Pathetique, Chopin's Waltz in C-Sharp Minor, Mozart's Fantasy in D Minor.

But that didn't happen. I just don't have the time or the stamina anymore.

What I do have, however, is the love of music. The desire to still grace my fingers across those keys, no matter how awkward and clunky it might be. The pleasure to play has come back where it wasn't before. But I have resigned myself to the fact that I will likely never really perfect a difficult piece of  classical music ever again. Very rarely do I have the stamina or attention span to attempt an entire piece from start to finish. I dip in and out of songs, playing a phrase here, a section there. When my hands don't feel like playing a particular piece, I move on to something else. When my hands tell me that they love the way a particular song feels as they move along the keys, I oblige. And while it's never close to perfect or even always pretty, my heart has finally come back to the piano. One imperfectly attempted song at a time. Just like this one (my hands are particularly a fan of playing this song):

Celebrate Past, Present, and Future

Celebrate This Week was established by Ruth Ayres

Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending a very special celebration. It was for the 25th anniversary of my former piano teacher's school of music. And I was one of her original students from way back in 1990.

To say that her guidance impacted the course of my life would be an understatement. She is such a kind, passionate musician, but more importantly, she understands her students. She knew that I needed music in my life as an emotional outlet for all of the joy, pain, and frustrations of growing up. She knew I didn't care about scales and proper fingering (though she gently but firmly made me learn those things) and if I didn't love a piece of music she suggested for me, she knew I wouldn't practice it. So for more than ten years, she let me navigate, while she steered me in the right direction.

And because Tracey was such a gracious, giving teacher, students who performed at her recitals and local music competitions never felt like rivals. We had a camaraderie of support for each other. And it was because of that camaraderie that a fellow student introduced me to the man who is now my husband. So not only did Tracey's teachings impact the person I am today, but every day I continue to see how being a part of her music school altered the course of my life. The frequent sentiment that many current and former students expressed yesterday was that Tracey was/is more than a teacher; she also felt like part of your family. I'm so grateful that Tracey was and is a part of mine.

Remembering Rachmaninoff

When I was a junior in high school, I mastered the most difficult piano piece I've ever attempted: "Prelude in C-Sharp Minor" by Sergei Rachmanioff.

The fact the I have tiny hands and was still able to perfect this piece with its giant, pounding chords is nothing short of miraculous.  So once I bought a brand new baby grand piano back in October, I vowed to attempt to master this piece again.

The past couple of weeks I have been tinkering with it again, and lo and behold, it is coming back to me. I can't even describe to you the excitement I feel when I get to the middle section that moves at breakneck speed with its wide, arpeggiated chords and my fingers actually cooperate with me, playing most notes swiftly and competently. I was practicing this piece again today and despite the melancholy, macabre tone of the piece, I felt nothing short of joyful.

Slice of Life is brought to you by Two Writing Teachers

Finding Inspiration in the Classroom: Matching Your Passion to Resources

Cathy Blackler is a wonderful friend of mine from Southern California. We first met, as I have with so many of my teacher friends, via Twitter, and have since shared many meals and stories together at NCTE.

At NCTE this past November, Cathy told me a phenomenal story about a way she was trying to fund a music program at her school. It was a story, as are so many of Cathy's stories, that was legendary. And on Thursday, it became more than just the stuff of legends. It became a reality. When Cathy posted this story, I asked if  I could also post it here because I didn't want her words to get lost in the ephemera of Facebook. I especially love that I can hear Cathy's joyful voice telling this story as I read her words

Thank you Cathy for your beautiful spirit and your passion for your students! I am honored to call you my friend. The first time I read this on Thursday I got all teary and did once again as I was putting this post together. 

Cathy's story is just another reminder of why teachers matter.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


I definitely found the joy today. Today was epic. It may very well have been the High Point of my Teaching Year. Let me tell you a story:

In September I took my husband on a date to a benefit concert for Jail Guitar Doors, founded here in the US by Motor City 5 member Wayne Kramer. I could not help but notice the similarities between Wayne's mission, to help prisoners find their voice through music, and the mission of our alternative high school and its music program. As we were in desperate need of new instruments for our program I figured I would contact Wayne, via Twitter, to see if he had any advice on how to acquire instruments. He graciously replied and we spoke on the phone, bonding over our passion for the populations we serve. While Wayne could not help me directly, he gave me a contact: Matt Sorum, former drummer of Guns N' Roses, Velvet Revolver, The Cult, and current drummer and founder of the Supergroup, Kings of Chaos. Matt has founded a non-profit called Adopt the Arts. Their mission is to fund music programs in schools where said programs have been cut completely or where funding has dried up.

 So, of course, I penned an email and hit send, never imagining in my wildest dreams what would come of it. Two days later, I received a reply.

 Hi Cathy, How are you?

A rhetorical question, no doubt. How am I? Seriously, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Inductee Matt Sorum just asked me that question. Better yet, he replied that he would love to be involved with our program, AND could I take a phone call.

Why yes. Yes I can. A few phone calls, lots of emails, and a face-to-face meeting at The Adopt the Arts benefit last month eventually led us to today. Matt, along with Paul Ill (who served as his official photographer) arrived at our school along with a van full of instruments. A new bass, three new guitars, a new drum kit, keyboard, mics and amps were presented to our student body, along with a heartfelt message from Matt about the importance of music as a social equalizer. He also informed our kids that his "adoption" comes with a 5 year commitment from him.

 I tell my students every day that they have the power to change their circumstance. Hearing it from someone like Matt is something few of them will forget.

 And it gets better.

After listening to them perform two songs, one of which was an original, Matt sat in on the drums as the group played "Knockin' on Heaven's Door."

Seriously. This happened.

 I feel pretty bad-ass today.

I will be forever grateful to Matt for his generosity, his graciousness, and his genuine concern for our students and their future.

 Did I mention I love my job?





Photos courtesy of Cathy Blackler and Matt Sorum's Facebook page

Celebrate This Week was established by Ruth Ayres

Remembering Joy

Today I cried while playing a Chopin Nocturne.


It was fraught with wrong notes and stifled rhythms, and for a few moments, I had a hard time seeing the music through my tears. But I played it all the way through and it was glorious.

I cried because I remembered what it was like to sit at the piano again and feel joy. And while I have shed many tears over the past fourteen years as a result of my lost musical passions, today I cried for the first time, not for the years I lost, but instead because I remembered and it didn't hurt.

Celebrate dreams fulfilled

From the time I was born we had a piano in our house. It was a relic from when my sister took lessons for about a year, but as tends to happen with kids, she lost interest and the Baldwin spinet sat in our living room taking up space.

From the time I was old enough to talk, however, I showed a great desire to learn how to play this fascinating instrument with its white and black "teeth." Which is why, despite the fact that when my family moved from Michigan to Kentucky the year before I started first grade, we moved the piano with us. Otherwise, I'm sure it would have been sold.

First photo evidence of my desire to play the piano

My parents never actively sought out a piano teacher for me. Probably because they were waiting for the right time when they felt I was old and mature enough to begin learning. But as fortune would have it, a new family moved on our street and it just so happened that the mom was a piano teacher. So at nine years old, I finally began learning how to play the piano.

As much as I love the instrument, I have always been especially smitten with shiny black baby grand pianos in particular. The gloss and the curves hypnotize me. They always have. When my husband and I lived in Germany back in 2003, we even visited the Bösendorfer headquarters in Vienna, which are known for being the best pianos in the world. Just as it is the dream of every violinist to play a Stradivarius, so too is it the dream of a pianist to play a Bösendorfer. It was one of the most magical moments in my life when I had the opportunity play a few of those glorious instruments. But the minimum $90,000 price tag means that I will never get to own that particular brand of piano. Still, it was wonderful just to have the opportunity to try out a few.




There was a time, however, in my storied history with the piano that I didn't want to play anymore. In fact, we're still on the back end of that time. I initially went to college thinking I would be a music teacher. I wish that thought had never crossed my mind. During most of my time learning to play the piano I had a wonderful, nurturing teacher who celebrated the individuality of all of her students rather than acted as a taskmaster who made all her students live up to some classical music ideal. Passion for music was more important to her than perfection. But when I arrived at college, my teachers -- one in particular -- represented the latter and squashed all the love and passion for music right out of my heart. I tried to hold onto it, but sitting at the piano was now painful for me rather than joyful.

When my husband and I were first married and living in Germany, he bought me a digital piano in an attempt to get me to try to find my way back again. But at that point, the wounds were still too new and too raw and I rarely played.

As the years have gone by, time has begun to heal my wounds and I recently entertained the thought that I want to fulfill that dream I had when I was little of one day owning a baby grand piano.

Yesterday I put down a deposit on this beauty:


I think I'm going to name her Tori. She's not a Bösendorfer, but she plays just like I want her to and has a lovely sound. I think think this is the start (and also the continuation) of a beautiful friendship.

Celebrate This Week was established by Ruth Ayers

The day the music died

I started out my college career as a music education major. My second semester I encountered a professor who broke me. He told me I had no talent and that I'd never make a career in music.

So one day I left a note on his studio door telling him I hope he is more gentle with students like me in the future, quietly dropped his class, and left the music program.

Before I turned my back on music for good, I decided for my own pride that I was going to prove him wrong. The semester I dropped out of his class, he assigned me Franz Schubert's Moment Musicaux No. 1 in C Major and proceeded to do nothing but tell me what I terrible job I was doing and how I'd never learn the piece. So I decided when I dropped out of the music program that I was going to take that piece to my longtime piano teacher -- who always nurtured my love and passion for the piano rather than tore me down -- and ask her to help me learn it for the upcoming American Guild of Music competition.

Even though I hated the piece (and I was never one who was motivated to learn pieces I hated), I was determined to learn it and prove that professor wrong. Well I did more than learn it. I won 3rd place at the competition that year.

Despite my success at the competition, the damage had already been done. That professor had sullied the one thing in my life that gave me solace and comfort.

Fifteen years later and the scars are still there. They will never fade. They will always be a part of me.

I still own a piano, but I very rarely sit down to play anymore. Every so often I'll hear a piece I used to play, like Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata or Chopin's Waltz in C# Minor, and that is a small impetus to make me want to sit down and play for a half hour at a time, but the passion and the drive I once had is completely gone.

So why share this story on my blog? I'll let you make those connections. I'm pretty sure it's fairly obvious. But just in case it isn't, I will leave you with one final question: are we building our students up or tearing them down?

The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls - Pablo Picasso

Last night I turned on my TV and happened upon The X Factor, a show I don't normally watch. I would have just changed the channel then and there but something compelled me to keep watching.  A high school-age boy named Carols Guevara was auditioning. He has Tourette's Syndrome and has tried every medication possible but to no avail. The only thing that seems to work at calming his tics is music.

So there was this boy, up on stage talking to the judges, trying to control his tics and explaining about his condition, but as soon as the music came on and he started singing, he was a new person. The tics went away and he embraced the crowd with his lovely voice.

I sat there and went into the Ugly Cry. I mean, I was full-on sobbing. That moment for Carlos not only shows how important the arts are in our world, but especially in education. These are not frivolous endeavors that we should be adding to school curricula only if there happens to be some extra money lying around. In Carlos's case, music has enhanced his quality of life, and for so many kids the arts don't just enhance their lives, they are life-savers.