My previous blog was about the important role singing
has played in my life. It concluded with the question, “How did a
singer/teacher/choral director become a writer?” The answer can’t be revealed
in one blog post. This is the second blog of five documenting my journey from musician to author.
After my senior recital, my voice professor suggested
I audition for the Charlotte Opera Company. As I began a semester of student
teaching, I promised to consider it. That was my quest, wasn’t it? To become an
opera singer? But dreams can change, and mine did.
I realized I loved working with children and discovered a
passion for teaching. As graduation approached, I began to weigh the pros and
cons of teaching versus performing. What I would do was never in doubt. Of
course, I would continue singing. But soon I realized I wanted to be the kind
of music teacher/choral conductor I never had.
My elementary music teacher was wholly uninspiring, my
high school choral director was crazy, and my private piano teacher was at
least a hundred years old when I started lessons at age seven, making her one
hundred eleven when I graduated from high school. Okay, maybe that’s a slight
exaggeration.
I accepted a position in Manassas, Virginia teaching
middle school general music and chorus. To say the experience was challenging
is an understatement. The kids were bigger and tougher than I was, and I stood
behind the piano all day, with one eye on the music and one eye on the students.
Keeping them singing was the best way to maintain discipline. But, each afternoon, I went home with a backache and laryngitis.
Although there were two full-time general music
teachers in this school, each with her own classroom, the situation was far
from ideal. The school had a limited choral library and no curriculum in place.
So, that first year (1972), I spent the evenings arranging music for my sixth, seventh,
and eighth-graders. With purple fingers, I would arrive early each morning to
print copies on the school’s only mimeograph machine.
When James Taylor released You’ve Got a Friend, my three hundred-or-so students begged to sing it… everyday... all day. It was my saving grace. It hooked them, inspired them, and kept
them singing without coercion.
My room was next to the industrial
arts classroom. One day, I met the industrial arts teacher in the corridor. He
said, “If I never hear You’ve Got a Friend again, it’ll be too
soon.” I could have complained about his wood-working machines that bellowed through
the wall, but I didn’t. I understood his pain.
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