unlike the others

If I had more discipline, I'd write more often. As is the case, like a late birthday card, the longer I go not writing, the harder it is to do.

The opera's done. One more school program to go next week.

I estimated that between the opera performances and the performances of my kids (I call my students my "kids') I've stood up before more than 3000 folks over the last 2 months. I've had enough compliments this last month to sustain my need to feel approval for at least the next month when I'll need to feel approved again and will volunteer at two consecutive camps. One for kids with cancer, one for underprivileged kiddos.
On top of all that, I applied for an and did not get a new teaching job closer to home (and more pay). I'm over it now. It's the first job in my life that I applied for and didn't get. That stung a bit. But it truly was not a good fit.

I've come to believe that I really do not teach like most of the general music teachers. I've found that they are either so gun-ho about one method, or one area of teaching that they completely shut out any other styles, or that they are so lazy,they just open up their teacher books and teach the next lesson.

I want kids to love music. I want them to go home and tell their parents about what they learned in music. I want them to know that it's ok to sing and it's ok to try new things in music. I want them to understand and appreciate the thousands of years of music history that came before the stuff we hear on the radio today and understand how we got to where we're at. I want them to know that no matter how bad you think you are at singing, you should still sing and sing with all your heart. I want them to learn that they cannot accomplish on their own what we can accomplish together.

And I'm not going to get all that by teaching out of the textbook. I'm not going to get that by being a hard-core Orff-method or Kodaly-method teacher. I get too bored to stick with one style anyway.
The other day, I had kids singing a song about everyday heroes. They were 6th graders. The group I usually have the hardest time with. But they sang so beautifully, I welled up. That NEVER happens. I'm not a weller-upper. It takes a whole-dang-lot to move me. When parents are gushing over a performance of my kids, or gushing over something they told them they did in music, I graciously take the compliments, but they don't move me.

I've said it before and I'll say it till the day I die: I do this job because I love it. I don't feel like I work. And I couldn't imagine living a life where I don't get to hear children sing.

I've realized this past couple months that I'm a passionate man. And not just about music. About a lot of things. I don't just like things, I get passionate about them. (some would call it OCD) And when I believe something, I REALLY believe it.

But one thing I used to believe in has recently shifted. A schema shift, if you will.

I've known for a long time that I'm more like my mom than my dad. My dad was absent when I was growing up. he cared more about his friends and his friends' kids than his own family. And it's not a bad thing that I ended up like my mom. She's is one of the most selfless, caring, nurturing and independent people I know.
But the other day, after an upset at home with Dustin's kids (suffice to say, Dustin and his ex-wife have a smile on the face, knife behind the back relationship) when his 12 y/o daughter decided she wanted to move back to her mom's place. (a house that's as white-trash as they come... and a husband who at least has all his tattoos spelled right but can't keep a job.)

I get along great with his 14 y/o daughter. She's laid back, does what she's asked without attitude and is an awesome clarinetist.

His 12 y/o wants to be a princess. She doesn't want to work. She has no passions in her life beyond watching T.V. and has more attitude than I've ever seen.

And the other day I caught myself thinking, "why can't you be like my students?"
And I stopped. dead in my tracks.

It was my dad coming through. I found myself wanting to be around my students more than her. And I about lost it. I couldn't believe that trait had been passed to me.

Mind you, I had, at one point, wanted kids of my own. If only because that what society had told me I need to do. And because I knew my mom would make an awesome grandma.

But after I came out, I realized that I didn't want kids. I didn't want to bring a child into an already burgeoning world. I found I fit in best taking care of the kids that were already here.

With Dustin, though, I was thrown into a situation where I had no choice. His kids were young, but not so young as I could have much influence over them. They had lived with their lazy ass mom for most of their lives and had recently moved in with their dad when I came along. And the last 4 years has been spent deprogramming everything their mom had done. Such as expecting that someone else will always take care of you. someone else will always give you money. You don't have to work a day in your life if you don't want to. It's ok to sit on your ass and let the world go by. Grades aren't that important. School's not that important. And lastly, your parents are your friends, not your parents.

All that shit had to go.

Augh. At least I recognized what had happened. A trait of my mom is to over analyze. And that's well engrained. So hopefully I can catch all those traits of my dad that need to be weeded out still.

I don't have contact with him. He doesn't try to contact me. And it works. I'll probably see him this weekend though. Going to St. Louis to see my sister's gay-band concert. He usually goes.

One of these days I'll learn the art of thrift. But till then, thanks for reading.