The Music Teacher

For several years now I've heard from Marek about his music teacher.

Evidently this teacher is big and green and mean. I've pictured him with two different sized legs, stomping around the classroom beating a stick into his open palm (in time to the music , of course). His alien antennas are always on the alert pointed up for any class disruptions. When someone steps out of line, which happens daily due to the numerous and impossible expectations, everything instantly stops so a punishment can be handed out and the disruptor sent to the Principal's office. And then the music starts up again. Kind of like alien punishment musical chairs. Let's see who is left at the end of class.

From what I have heard from Marek, there has been little musical instruction provided. In fact, Marek has taken pride in not learning a note from this guy - let's just call him Mr. X.

Marek is not the only one complaining of this monster. I know other people who have complained of his teaching methods. I have wondered why the school continues to employ Mr. X, and have even contemplated writing a note to the school about the torture that my oldest is put through under his tutelage.

Imagine my surprise this week, when Oscar runs out of kindergarten, his eyes bright and shining happily: "Mom! I had music class today with Mr. X!"

"Oh-no!," I inwardly cringe. "Why do both of my boys have to taught by this, this..."

"Guess what? Mr. X is special."

"Oh yeah? Why is he special?" I say, but I think, "Because he was born in outer space?"

"Mr. X knows how to sing REALLY good."

And for the rest of the week, Oscar runs around blaring guitar riffs and rhymes that I've never before heard in our household. He talks often of Mr. X.

Mr. X is now tall, but stoops down frequently to make eye contact with my son and his peers. He sings like an angel and presents my son with accessible music information that can be understood and enjoyed. A glow of light surrounds him as he strides down the school's hall, and smiles are reflected and bounce off the walls for all to embrace and collect.

I am filled with gladness that my son has connected so deeply in one week with a leader at his new school. I am so glad he has a male role model, and I feel like I should write the school or Mr. X a short note and let him know how much he has helped Oscar.

Which of my sons is seeing reality?

Probably neither. Marek is very sensitive. Oscar will tire of his worship and move on the gym teacher next week.

But how satisfying to experience multiple insights of the same individual. To see how a teacher can completely miss with one person, and completely hit with the other. This is what makes our school system great.

Willowby, Wallowby Beacher,
The Elephant Sat on my Teacher.