I was the band director and the chorus teacher for two hours today at the high school. Overall, things did not go so well.
First, I can’t read music. Second, I can’t sing.
I went from a morning of covering a high school history class and testing preschoolers’ Literacy skills to an afternoon of sheer cacophony surrounded by brass, woodwind, and percussion instruments I knew nothing about.
In the midst of this surreal assignment, I looked up and smiled and thought of my one little word I’d chosen for 2022: listen. And as I did, it occurred to me that others might want to listen, too.
I texted a few 15-second audio clips to my closest people with no accompanying explanation.
“Wow, what was that?” my husband replied.
“It’s my band class. I’m directing,” I informed him.
“Oh my goodness, that’s hilarious,” he texted back.
“What in the world?” from my daughter.
“It’s my band class. I’m directing,” I told her.
She was amused. “Hahaha! Directing? Or do you mean telling the band to play something reminiscent of a Disney movie set in the Great Depression that was decades before their time?”
Another family member was so concerned that he tried calling, but I couldn’t answer in class.
“I’m busy directing the band today. I’ll have to call you when I’m headed back to the office,” I told him.
“Oh dear,” another replied. “I’m going to need video evidence.”
And so I got it.
So that for the rest of 2022 when I need to think of the most unusual way I listened on the 13th day of the year, I can revisit this experience and be ever mindful that the words we choose for the year can truly take us to some places we never dreamed we’d be.
Today, I was a band director.
Common Threads 