I get a strange pleasure listening to Mary Shannon of the hit t.v. series In Plain Sight ruminate about the lesson learned each week during her current witness protection case. Shannon, played by Mary McCormack, is a tough federal marshal; not the warm and fuzzy type, yet solid, and her approach to her job and her relationships is no nonsense. I find her narrations extremely profound and achingly honest. The quote above rang true for me personally and in a very real way.
I taught music in the same elementary school for three years. In education standards that is not a very long time considering many of my colleagues had been there for several decades. I loved the students of this Title One school and my intentions were to remain there for a long time. I was witnessing significant growth in the students' musical skills and it was exciting thinking about the things I could teach them the more musically literate they became. The students were a challenge to me, discipline not being my strong area, but they knew that I loved them and believed in them, quite an accomplishment for a short, petite Caucasian woman in a predominantly African American community.
I was not one to give up on anything, no matter how tough it was. I had never quit a job without another one waiting for me. I have always persevered through any difficulty. However, in June, I did something so uncharacteristic of me that it surprised me, my family, and my colleagues. I quit.
So, what happened? How is it that intentions can change overnight?
Even now, when I think back on giving up my teaching job, it is difficult not to think about the students who gave smiles and hugs so freely and who begged me each week to allow them to stay with me all day. (Special Area classes were only 45 minutes each week.) I grin when I think that their teachers would love for me to keep them as well. And it wasn't so much that the students loved music but that they loved me.
It is also difficult thinking about my colleagues who are continuing to teach in the school because I will miss them very much. They didn't want me to go but respected my decision and were even a little jealous that I felt free to let go and follow a new path.
So my decision wasn't based on the students or teachers or even the school because I saw potential in the students, their behavior and their achievements.
I had to look deep inside myself for the answer to this one. For thirty years, I have focused entirely on music: music training, education, and performance both in schools and churches around the country. My two passions have been music and children; and those have not changed. I dedicated my life to instructing children; helping them to love music, teaching them that music is a part of our lives and an extension of who we are. The joy of my life is that sometimes I succeeded.
When I didn't succeed, until recently I felt that it was my fault; that I wasn't trying hard enough. I spent months working harder and longer; trying to please others who couldn't support my efforts because they could not understand the impact of arts in education.
I began to realize that in order to reach students today, education has to change and in many ways it has and continues to evolve. The message (content) changes very little, but our world has changed how that content is processed. Our methods and techniques have to be relevant. However, even districts that tout the very latest technology through new initiatives lack the resources and training to be effective in our global society. I felt stifled within the limited parameters I was given and unable to explore the variety of options that could have been useful for my music classes. I needed a change.
Some would argue that institutions cannot be changed from the outside; and my response is that I worked within the system so long that I was no longer able to see clearly what needed to be changed. I had to remove myself from the situation in order to find the right path for me to take. The decision to "give up" is not for everyone, and it will not be the right decision for me all the time. However, it was my decision this time and I will spend every moment I can trying to find the next "starting point."
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