Year 10: Week 13 - Crowded Table

Most of the time, I don’t teach music that I love. First off, my job as a teacher is not to teach students what music that I enjoy. My job is to instill a love of music in my students' lives buy teaching them how to better understand music in their own lives and beyond. The music that is most effective at doing just this is often music that I don’t personally love, or even like all that much. No, I don’t torture myself by teaching music that I strongly dislike, but I rarely in my free time listen to music that I teach for enjoyment.

This is why I hesitated so much to teach “Crowded Table.” This is a song that I absolutely love and it means so much to me. One of the first singles that was released from The Highwomen is a wonderful statement of values, and an expression of what of the wants that we should all share.


I love everything about The Highwomen, and I’m going to leave it to the pros to explain what is so important and amazing about their debut self-titled album (check out this article).

I wanted to shake things up. My 3rd graders ended the Thanksgiving program long before I started at this school ten years ago by performing, “Simple Gifts.” Yes, as I taught my students, “Simple Gifts” is an important American song, attributed Elder Joseph Brackett who wrote it down in 1848. However, I felt that my students needed more, my school needed more. For over a decade (likely decades), the expressions of this one white man from the mid-1800s had been central in the traditions of our school.

My school is made up of a lot more than white men, so I was determined to do something more. Instead of trying to replace a tradition that many people valued, I created more space. I moved “Simple Gifts,” from a finale to an introduction, and brought in “Crowded Table,” a song written and recorded earlier this year by women as the ending sing-along of this central school tradition.

“Crowded Table” was perfect. The meaning of the lyrics were teachable to my 3rd graders and while rhythm was a not exactly at 3rd grade level, the range and the contours of the melody worked for my 3rd graders and most importantly of all, my students really enjoyed singing this song.

My idea was that all of the other students in the audience would singalong with the chorus of the song while the 3rd graders performed. So, I prepped the other student by teaching “Crowded Table,” to them and every time, I was nervous, hoping that they would catch onto the song. I’m usually not nervous in my hope that students will like a song, but this one felt different. This song and this whole album just has meant that much to me.

With great pride I led my 3rd graders through the first verse, and then I turned around to invite the audience to sing along with the chorus and I heard singing from crowd, and felt the spirit in the room. Each time the chorus hit, the audiences voices got louder and louder, and by the end of the song, the whole school was singing together.

If the school didn’t get into this song, and not singalong very loudly, it would have been fine. However, this possibility felt like a failure to me, and fulfilling our fears that the youth are less than. Instead the students and my school showed me that they agreed with me, that our school values were nothing just posted on the wall, and that we all wanted to create a school and a society where “everyone belongs.”

Parenthood: Week 346 - Swinging

“Ethan, do you want more swing?”

“More!”

“Ollie, do you want to take a break?”

“MORE SWING!!”

I wasn’t sure how long I had been pushing my children on the swings in our backyard. I knew that at least three songs had past that I was playing off of my iPhone through a speaker balancing on a tree stump.

It was Sunday morning and I had the boys to myself. Diana was teaching her last Sunday morning enrichment class for gifted students. She had been teaching this course for a couple weeks, which gave me the opportunity to have some daddy time with the boys.

Some Sundays with the boys went really well. I would get them out of the house to go to a play area or a park and we’d have a great time. There were other times that did not go so well, like when I took them to a store with toys and a meltdown ensued as I refused to by toys for them.

Days when I felt less motivated and didn’t get them out of the house in general didn’t go so well. Yes, sleeping in is nice, but the price that I pay for sleeping in is that the mornings are more hectic, and it’s harder to get them fed, ready for the day and get myself ready for the day. Most of the time the boys would let me do one of these three things in peaces: eat breakfast, go to the bathroom, or get dressed. If I pushed myself out of bed earlier, and had a plan, things almost always went smoother.

Having a relaxing Sunday morning at home has never been that relaxing.

Yesterday, I did have a plan. I got up one the early side, and got Ethan eating some snacks earlier so I could get breakfast on the table for everyone. I got them changed and got myself ready and we headed to the backyard.

Ollie on recent neighborhood bike rides kept crashing into leaf piles while we walking Buffy. This was entertaining for him, but it delayed our walks with Buffy. And it was annoying to wait for him to pull his bike out of leaf piles over and over.

This morning was going to be different. I was going to give my boys control of their time. So much of our children’s lives, we determine when their schedule. We often cut our children off when they want to do more of something they are enjoying. On this morning I wanted things to be different.

After we racked up piles of leaves and jumped around in them, Ethan pointed to the swings. I racked a nice cushion of leaves underneath the swings so my Ollie could jump out of the swing into the pile, and then I pushed them and got them going.

In the past, at parks I’ve stopped my boys from doing certain activities like the swings or playing on slides because I was bored or we were out of time. Yesterday, I let them take the lead.

After about ten minutes of pushing them on the swing, I gave up keeping track of time, and I stopped asking if they were done or wanted a break.  Next, I gave up on trying to lead them into a different activity.   Finally, I pushed aside my boredom and focused on Ethan’s constant giggles and let his joy become my focus.

I starting noticing things that I had missed. The air was getting warmer. Ethan’s hands were gripping the chains of the swings with more strength then I had ever before. Ollie and Ethan swung in and out of sync in some kind of wonderful dance, and the leaves beneath my boots crackled gently as I shifted my weight.

Like awakening from a dream, Ollie said “Ok, I want a break,” and he jumped off. Soon after Ethan reached his arms up to signal that he was done as well. Shortly after that we headed back into the house and sense of time reentered my consciousness and we were back. 

It's sometimes scary to let our children take charge, but sometimes when we let them lead us, it takes us to wonderful places, we never imagined. 

Year 10: Week 12 - Why I Go To Taft

This year’s 5th grade trip was rough. The weather for three of the four days was in the 20s and low 30s. All four days we spent at least four to five hours outside doing activities. It was cold.

Really cold.

I was “on” as a teacher from the early morning to late at night and we got around five to six hours of sleep. Even though this was about what I’m used to at home with little kids, like any sleep away from home it wasn’t as restful.

I teach five different grade levels, which manes that my other four grades had a substitute teacher while I was away. Four days is a significant time away and even with the best substitute teacher, curriculum and instruction takes a hit for that week.

Four days and three nights is a lot of time to be away from my family. Diana can handle things with without me but of course it’s harder and takes more out of Diana. My sons were thrown off. Ollie missed me, and Ethan is too young to understand what was going on but expressed concerns over my absence through some challenging behavior and having issues with his sleeping routine.

With all of these challenges, known well-ahead of time, why do I go back to this retreat? This year was my ninth year going, and I would go back again.

There’s the feeling of being part of a tradition, the relationships building opportunities with the students, and the challenge of the trip. This year, what really made the experience special and rewarding was the other teachers.

I love being part of this team of teachers. They value my opinion, I feel trusted and honored in conversations with them, and we have a lot of fun. Even in the worst of times we find ways to make each other laugh. At the same time when we are having hard times, we know how to give people space to feel these feelings.

This is the group of teachers I was with during election night of 2016 on this trip. While I wished I was home, I really valued the memory of sharing this challenging night with these wonderful educators.

At school, I’m part of many different teams but I often don’t feel fully part of any of them.  For example, I work with the 3rd grade team but I have other grades I work at the same time so I miss out on a lot with each grade level team.  On this trip, with these people, I’m fully feel like I belong.

Some the relationships I value the most at my school come from friendships that started and developed at this retreat.  For this, I will forever be grateful.

The creators of this trip made this trip as much for the faculty as they did for the students.  The way they worked together and valued each other has been passed down to us.  We now have the responsibility to do as they did for the students and each other.

I look forward to going back to Taft next year.  It's going to be a challenge, but I know I will have my people there with me.  There is magic in this place but it's only been revealed to me because of these wonderful people I am proud to call my colleagues and friends. 

Parenthood: Week 345 - What I Miss

Last week was my annual 5th grade outdoor education retreat. I wrote this post while I was away from my family, thinking about what I was missing about my children. 

I miss Ethan's hands.

Ethan’s hands are small compared to mine, but they seem large compared to his body. These hands are tools that he uses to explore the world. Only through concentration can he get his hands to complete tasks like putting on his shoes. These efforts can bring about frustration and often can bring him satisfaction.

Taking off his socks and outing on a new pair takes time and effort. His hands work carefully and slowly. The movement sometimes seems clumsy but the persistence of this work is focused and careful.

When Ethan wakes up early in the morning and I bring him into my bed to calm him down his hand seek me out in the dark. Ethan feels for something to hold onto. Something real and warm. A shirt collar simply isn’t enough. He scratches at my throat trying to feel something to be closer. As I wince in pain, I push his hands away and Ethan moves his hands down my shirt to my chest.

Ethan’s hand relaxes open and I feel his palm against my chest. His hand presses gently against my chest as it rises up and down. Ethan’s body finally relaxes and he cuddles closer to me in the darkness.


I miss Ollie’s eyes.

In his eyes Ollie shows me that I matter.

In moments of frustration, while his face tenses up like a fist, his eyes plead to me. He wants to watch one more episode of that show, or that piece of candy, but there’s more. Behind his eyes he wants guidance, clarity and a better understanding through the swirl of emotions that are filling his mind.

When Ollie smiles and looks at me his eyes are searching for a connection. Even at this young age, Ollie understands that true joy is in sharing. Happiness confirmed through through bright eyes are an affirmation and permission to feel deeper.

Other times Ollie’s eyes reach out to me like a hand. Sometimes it’s a hand that needs help, like a silent plea of “daddy,” when Ollie is suck in a place physically or inside his mind. There are times when his eyes reach out to help me up. Ollie is very empathetic and wants me to feel better when I’m sad. When I’m upset, his eyes tell me it’s okay.

In the quiet moments, looking into his kind eyes, I pause, and find a calm through the invitation of his gaze.

Ollie’s eyes make me feel loved, feel important and feel that my life has meaning.

I hope that he feels the same when he looks into my eyes.

Year 10: Week 11 - Through The Years

In my role as a music teacher, I see my students for less time across the course of a week than the classroom. However, I get to be from 3rd to 8th grade. And they are part of my life as members of our school community from when they enter in JK and leave our school as high school seniors.

From their time with me in 3rd grade until they leave me in 8th grade, I witness amazing growth. Some facets of their personality come through over time, others persist, and some evolve. Sometimes they meet my expectations over the years, and other times they surprise me in ways that and inspire me.

These changes are markers of time, a reminder of our purpose as teachers, and a wonderful thing to witness. Some students are aware that I’m part of their lives over the years. They enjoy revisiting me, ask me how my family is going, an savor our relationship as it evolves over the years. I enjoy when older students reminisce about something we did in a class together. Sometimes it’s a memory that I share, but often it’s a moment that has left my memory but brings the student great joy.

Other students as less aware of the nature of our longitudinal relationship. I take the student’s lead in these situation as it is important for some students to feel space from me as a teacher. I have at times reminded students of how I have watched them grow up over the years, and how proud I am of their growth.

Many memories of students I keep to myself as they bring me joy and pride. I let these thoughts come to me when I get to watch these students do amazing things. Because it is often how they have grown that adds a level of pride that is unique to my perspective.

The seeds we plant as teachers sometimes come to fruition in a couple months. Sometimes things bloom in a couple of years. Many times the seeds that we plant grow in our students in ways that we cannot observe years later. Our greatest work leads to growth that no one can witness and often times is not known by the individual.

When I meet my 3rd graders for the first time in the beginning of the year, it is a wonderful moment of joy. I remember performances I saw them do in grades earlier. I see their eyes and feel their presences in the classroom space that we share.  Most of all, I feel the excitement of the journey ahead.

It’s not my journey. I am one small part of their lives. I work with hope that my time with them will enrich their lives, for I know that our time together has enriched mine. It is sharing their lives over the years that bring meaning to my work, and changes my life, for the better, and for good.

Parenthood: Week 344 - Hamilton

Hamilton has been part of Ollie’s cultural diet for most of his life. I jumped on the Hamilton train when after the soundtrack had been out for a couple months in 2015, when Ollie was two years old.

I have always been mindful of Ollie’s cultural diet. What our children watch, listen to, and observe effect the way that they see the world, other people, and themselves. If all we feed our children is food that is not healthy, it will effect their physical and mental health. Art has a similar effect on our mental health and our souls. Images, song lyrics, and musical sounds stay with out and reverberate in our souls, long after we the songs leave our attention. Most of the information that we receive about culture and values, we get through art. And the way that we see ourselves is greatly influenced by the way that we see others in art. If you want your daughter to see themselves as strong, they must see strong women in art, and if you want your son who is a person of color to value themselves as a human being, then it’s essential that they read books that have positive characters that are people of color.

For almost a year, my musical diet was all Hamilton, and Ollie partook in that starting at age two. Hamilton is the musical equivalent of a super-food, and everything I wanted Ollie to consume and understand about America and himself. Hamilton includes almost every genre of music, feature people of color, showcase virtuoso musicianship, questions gender roles, and expresses the full range of human emotions.

Before I knew it I had a toddler singing along to, “My Shot,” in his car seat holding a Moana stuff dolled during the drive to school. We usually only listened to the songs that were lighter and more of a party. While I was concerned about the explicit language, Ollie was only two. I figured that he wouldn’t notice most of it, and so far he hasn’t shown any signs that we did pick up in the swear words from the musical.

As my interest died down, Ollie’s did as well and he got into learning songs from his music class, and various Disney movies.

Over the past four years, the idea of bringing Ollie to see Hamilton was on our mind. Diana and I went to the show together, and I went with my mom. It’s a long show, and while we continued to take Ollie to children’s theaters all over Chicago, Hamilton just seemed like too much for our little guy.

As the years past we toyed around with the idea, and as the end of Hamilton’s run became more clear in the horizon, we made the call to make it happen.

For the week before the show, I played the soundtrack from Hamilton in the car and around the house. The day of the show, I dressed Ollie in his Hamilton shirt and we got him loaded up in the car. Diana tried to get him to guess where we were taking him, and when he finally figured out where we were going he quietly smiled and bounced in his seat in excitement.

I wasn’t worried but I was prepared. We got seats by the aisle just in case Ollie needed to leave at the some point in the performance. Diana wisely asked me to buy some candy before the performance, which was critical to getting Ollie through the sections of the show he found less engaging.

Hamilton is a long show and even though Ollie knew a lot the songs, much of the show was new for him, and most of the plot was too complex for him to fully understand. With ask of this working against him Ollie did great. We had to remind him to sit down nicely a couple time and we did get through candy and a bag of popcorn, but for the most part he sat nicely and enjoyed the show.

I looked over at Ollie as the first song started the sudden knock on a door and a creak of a hinge. I was pleased to see him at the edge of the seat taking it all in. I felt a rush of excitement as the cast presented themselves on stage showing the beauty and talent of America to my son.

I held Ollie’s hand during, “Dear Theodosia,” and felt the wonderful joy of parenthood with my son next it me. During, “It’s Quiet Uptown,” I felt Ollie’s presence strongly next to me and held onto his arm gently as the song forced me to consider, “the unimaginable” through my own tears.  As the musical closed, I reflected for the first time how Hamilton’s hubris effected his children.  For the first time I took the story as a warning against the choices that we take that seem to further ourselves and also hurt our children.

Hamilton continues to give so much to our family, and I feel grateful to have had the opportunity to share this wonderful piece of art with Ollie.

Year 10: Week 10 – YMOC

This past weekend my school hosted its second annual Young Men of Color Symposium.

This event was inspired by a similar symposium started by Dwight Vidale at the Riverdale Country School in New York City. The idea was to create a space for young men of color in independent schools. This time served as an affinity space, a time for personal growth, and a place for community building.

This year like last year, I served as a facilitator. I’ll be totally honest. This year and last year it was a challenge…in a great way.  It has taken me 14 years to get to a place where almost all of the time I can handle whatever groups of students that is put in front of me. And it’s not like I couldn’t handle this group of students, but there were time that I wasn’t sure what to do.  My co-facilitators more than a couple times swooped in when I wasn’t sure what to do and did a great job.

I’m learning that facilitating isn’t the same as teaching. Also, I learning that groups of boys don’t work the same way together as a group of students who are made up of different genders. Throw in the fact that these are all students of color and you have a very unique situation that takes care and finesse to handle.

It was clear that some of the behavior that in a classroom context would be characterized as disruptive was an expression of learning through a level of discomfort. For example, we did an activity when people had to complete the phrase, “one thing I like about being a person of color is…” One student said his hair and immediately other students giggled, and some started feeling their hair nervously. The rowdiness in the other students responses was significant. My initial instinct was the shut it down these seemingly silly responses but taking cues from the other facilitators, I let it go.

Part of the dynamic in the room that I need to put out there is that I was an Asian-American adult in a room full of mostly black and African-American identified boys. The work in this room was racial and my identity is part of what was in that room, and I needed to be conscientious about what my presence meant in this space.

Now, I don’t really know what my presence means right now, but that’s okay. This is a space for young men of color, Asian-identified included. This year even though Asians were still a minority in a group of minorities, more Asian students came this year.

I have a lot of questions and wonders about this experience, but I’m glad that I got to part of this experience and contribute to this experience for these young men. Part of why I love teaching is that it puts me in different and uncomfortable places. This is how I learn and grow, and I’m grateful that I got to do this in service of these incredible young men of color.

Parenthood: Week 343 – Halloween

I view Halloween is like a children’s toy.

If a kid is not playing well with a toy, one reasonable consequence is to take that toy away. The fact that we still have to remind people that racism is not okay on Halloween, and dressing like other cultures is not appropriate continues frustrates me. While I do think that college-aged people having a  excuse to party is totally fine, however when this over-sexualization of characters and costumes tickles down to high school age people and even middle school age children, it’s really disturbing (and this does in fact happen).

Personally, I’ve never been that into dressing up, and the whole candy door to door thing never made much sense to me, so I wasn’t looking forward to doing the Halloween thing with my own children. That was until Ollie was born and I started seeing pictures of babies in costumes.

Seriously, cute little babies and toddlers are the best part of Halloween. I don’t know what it is about seeing little ones dress up that adds to their cuteness quotient but it totally does. Add in the ridiculousness of dressing up dogs in costumes and it somehow balances out all of the awfulness that is Halloween…mostly.

Every year we got Buffy costumes and that continued when Ollie came around and same with Ethan. We probably spent more money on costumes than I was comfortable at first but we made it happen. We mitigated the costs by going the Etsy route, which depending on the costume can be more affordable. Diana started doing this thing where she order a winter knit hat as part a costume, which doubles as a functional hat. We did this for a panda, koala, and dinosaur costumes.

Another thing that makes Halloween SO much better is the fact that my neighborhood does trick or treating the Sunday afternoon before Halloween. Kids run around for less than an hour, people sit in chairs on the sidewalk outside the house, which eliminates the awkward door knocking part. It’s well-lit in the middle of the afternoon, and generally, really easy.

Since we moved in, I stayed behind and handed out candy, but this year I took Ethan around. This was the first time I had ever gone trick or treating with any of my kids and it was super cute. Ethan really likes being held so it was impressive to see him walking on his own so much. He would slowly walk up to people holding out bowls of candy sitting on the sidewalk, carefully take one piece out of the bowl and put it in his bag and walk away. I tried to get him to say thank you and most of the time he tried, but it was usually really softly.

Ethan made it to almost ten different houses, which was a really far walk for him. It was nice to see so many of my neighbors be so delighted by his cuteness. Everyone was so nice to him, and he got really into this activity. Now this was followed by several meltdowns in the following days because well…candy, but it was still wonderful to walk with him around the neighborhood.

I still have issues with Halloween, but I’m glad that my family has figured out a way to make it work for us.  I'm looking forward to one more to fit into a theme with my other sons and Buffy...this may take some creativity. 

Year 10: Week 9 - What I Love Part 2

Aloud

I love reading books to children. If I had spare time I would volunteer to do read-aloud anywhere people would take me. When I taught special ed, and general classroom, doing reading books to students was one of my favorite thing to do. Children are given permission to enjoy so many things that adults also enjoy but for one reason or another aren’t valued as adult experiences. One of these special things that I feel that all people love is being told stories. Kids are the lucky ones who in the best of schools get to experiences almost every single day.

I am a music teacher and I only see my students twice a week for 40 minutes. I have a lot of stuff in my curriculum that is important so I don’t have a lot of time to do read aloud even when it’s a musical book that enriches the music curriculum. So, I integrate books as much as I can, and dive deep into the experience of reading to my students. I don’t do voice, but I do sound effects. I love playing with the volume and pitch of my voice and building up to dramatic silences.

The thing I love the most about reading books to students is that it’s an opening for further conversations, and connections. Books are in invitation to discuss, share, and reflect. It’s a beautiful part of teaching, that I always enjoy.

Opening The House

Even though I'm not a fan of coming in on the weekends, open houses, which are often on Saturdays are a great opportunity to help my school communicate to others what is special, important and of value at my school.

During these events sometimes I get direct questions and other times I am given space to simply talk. My job in these moments is to help others see what I love about education and my school, and while there is a level of salesmanship going on here, it doesn’t feel phony.

I believe in education, I believe in my school, and I believe that there is something important about the work that I do with my students. There are times that I have to mold my answers to what others are saying and sometimes steer the conversation in another direction, but more often than not these exchanges feel organic, authentic and meaningful.

I have empathy for these parents having gone through a similar process with my own son, and I do my best to work through the awkwardness of the conversations. What I enjoy most is helping the parents see that there is a place that sees children and values them because of their diversity and  the different facets of their identity. When visitors understand this, I can see excitement in their eyes as the hope that a school will value their children as they love them grows. It’s a conversation that turns doubt into a maybe, and helps transforms pessimism into hope.