A nightmare to us

His caring is a nightmare to us,

and his voice a stone.

We would like to heed his words,

but we only half hear them.

The big drama between us

Makes too much noise

for us to understand each other.

We watch his lips moving,

shaping sounds that die away.

We feel endlessly distant,

though we are endlessly bound by love.

Only when we notice that he is dying 

do we know he lived.

-- from "The Book of Hours: Love Poems to God" by Ranier Maria Rilke. English translation by Anita  Barrows and Joanna R. Macy.

(I've been trying to think of something insightful that I could say about this. I can't seem to find words that would say anything more penetratingly true than what Rilke, through Barrows and Macy, already said. What are your thoughts?)

This is why I keep going back . . .

I've got a class of 35 kindergarteners.  Nope, not a typo. Our school has 35 kindergarteners in one class. (Luckily, they have a fantastic teacher that is working wonders with them) Needless to say, it takes a lot to keep those little people under control, especially when they don't know how to manage themselves yet. But I love them. They are so musically inclined and genuinely excited to be in music and learning. That is so refreshing.

But today, one of those sweet kids absolutely made my day and reminded me why I am so passionate about teaching music, especially in the inner city. He's one of the more challenging students in the class as his learning disabilities make it difficult for him to control his body and his talking. I moved him to the back of the room, knowing that not being as close to me would help him be less excited (and therefore in more control) and I think I temporarily broke his little heart. He's over it now, though, and loving music all the more.

Today, as he was leaving, he gave me the biggest hug I've yet received from him. Even though his language was simple, the meaning behind it was profound.

R: "I . . . I happy. Thank you, thank you music . . . "

Reason #1 out of 539,456,205 that I teach music in the 'hood.

Funny things my students say

"Mrs. W, I used to get my head stuck in the toilet when I was in middle school" J, the first grader. Bahaha.

(This was the same kid that told me last year he was thankful, not for family, friends, toys, or anything else that his peers said, but for cheese. Yes, that's right, cheese. When I questioned him about it, he simply said, "What? I really like cheese." That will forever be one of my favorite stories.)

Kindergartner to me:
"I'm going to throw you a birthday party"
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. It's going to be a surprise party"
"Okay."
"Yeah, and you know what I'm going to get you?"
"What are you going to get me?"
"A baby."
" [stunned silence] . . . really? Well, where are you going to get the baby from?"
"From the store."
"[more stunned silence] The store? Really? Well, that's good. I was afraid you were going to bring it from your house or something"
" . . . huh?"
"Nevermind . . ."