As a multigenerational caucasian-American, I have lived my life in a position of privilege relative to many other Americans. According to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, most of mine have been met, and I enjoy the luxury of being able to quibble and complain about relatively minor offenses. It’s always been hard for me to really wrap my head and my heart around a positive notion of America. I usually hedge. I focus on our racist past towards native peoples, african-americans, non-christians and non-whites. I focus on our shortcomings in health care, environmentalism and education relative to other countries. I focus on our ego-driven militancy and subversion of other governments. It’s hard to feel the love.
But, since I moved to Hamtramck, I become unexpectedly and enthusiastically more patriotic than ever. I love that this community exists, I love that it exists in America, I love that I get to be a part of it.
Continue reading “A Patriot is Born- Hamtramck, USA”
On a summer Sunday afternoon, approximately 50 people gathered together in a church for an unusual kind of surprise party. The woman in charge gave instructions, handed out signs for people along the aisle to hold and asked “is there anyone here who knows how to play ‘The Entertainer’?” An elderly woman raised her hand in perky perfect posture as though she’d been waiting all her life to put this latent skill to use, for just such a moment as this! At last, the guest of honor arrived, she made her way slowly down the aisle of the church, greeting and looking in surprise at the faces of old friends and neighbors gathered there to see her, and also slowed down by her walker and artificial leg. This was a tribute recital for LaVonne Harris, who for 44 years has served her community as a piano and organ teacher and who, after a series of recent health struggles is due for some much-deserved appreciation. This was the sort of event that every teacher would want but could never dare expect. It was a testament both to the depth of her contribution and to the strength of the community she served.
Each former student spoke a few words before they played to explain their musical selection and thank their teacher, offering a meaningful context to every piece. Before playing Arabesque #1 by Debussy (by memory), a young former student thanked his teacher for giving him the gift of music, “the thing in my life that brings me the most joy.”
Most of the performances were classics like these. LaVonne is not the typical small-town music teacher who was satisfied to teach students to merely produce music– she taught for mastery. Each lesson was an exercise in aspiration. And though most students never reached their complete potential (or anywhere near their teacher’s level) everyone received a formal education grounded in technique and coupled with aspiration and a love of good music. Perhaps that’s why so many former students chose to perform those difficult but beautiful songs that were outside their comfort zone. It wasn’t about perfection it was about appreciation, it wasn’t not about being “recital-ready” every day of your life, it was about having the familiarity to sit down at a piano bench and have the fluency to make something beautiful with it. Continue reading “Tribute to a Small-Town Music Teacher”