Did I ever tell you about how I play the clarinet?We moved to Waterford when I was in the third grade. I had like one friend, wasn't good at academics and subsequently hated going to school. But then I started playing the clarinet.
I started playing the clarinet in the fourth grade. Mrs. McIvor came into our classroom and asked if anyone wanted to play an instrument. I raised my hand and when she asked me what I wanted to play I said clarinet. To this day, I have no idea why.
The girl who took lessons with me was in my class and we clicked right away. My clarinet was called "Claire" and hers was called "Annette". (We were really witty in the fourth grade) She introduced me to her friends and she protected me from the kids who said I looked like a boy or made fun of me for any other slew of reasons. She was awesome and I wanted to be just like her.
All because of that clarinet!! I had friends! I was happy! I was good at something!!!
Middle school and high school that clarinet was my life. It was my reason for being. My reason for getting up in the morning. I sat in that middle school band with over a hundred other kids and stared at the conductor and just wanted to be him. (Minus the bad haircut and really long, hard to spell, very Italian last name) And just when I thought I couldn't love band anymore than I already did, I went to high school and *OMG* marching band. If you've never been in a marching band, I don't even know how to explain it. It made me feel whole. My friends were there. My music was there. My clarinet was there. And I was good at it. And people looked up to me. And that band director? I wanted to be him too. We all did. He was *that* teacher. He had a better haircut, but an equally ridiculous Italian last name, but he was young and energetic and inspiring. We loved him and we wanted to be just like him.
I got to college and I played and played and played. Played in the band, played in the orchestra, played for the musicials, played for the operas, I even played in the jazz band. Played recitals by myself that my friends and family all come for and took pictures and brought flowers. I was in love.
When junior year came and we started taking music education classes I was so excited. But then we did this thing where we went into a school once a week that didn't have a music program and taught some classes. And something didn't feel right. I was worried, so I went to talk to my advisor. Its different for everyone, she said. Everyone adjusts differently, everyone teaches differently, she said. Give it time, she said. I remember walking out of her office with a pit in my stomach. But she was the advisor. She must know best.
Long story short, I should have listened to my gut. My student teaching started off strong. I loved my elementary placement. Loved the teacher I was with and loved those little darlings. The high school placement on the other hand was a disaster. The teacher hated me and thought that I was incompetent. She wouldn't let me do anything and when she did she embarrassed me in front of the students. I hated her. I hated those kids. I hated being there.
But it was what I went to school for. It was all I knew. So I trucked on and few years later I got a job.
At first I loved it. I got there early. I left late. I loved the little darlings and I loved my job.
But now? I get there on time. I leave on time. I do like most of the darlings, but I don't love my job.
Tuesday nights I have band and I get to play my clarinet. I now have two clarinets, one that I call Claire and one that's Annette. I love band. I love the cheesey music and I love having that feeling that I am good at something. I love knowing that I am important to the group and that people take me seriously. I love the comrodery and the friends and the familiarness of it all.
I was born to play the clarinet, but I'm not sure that I was born to be a teacher.
I love Tuesdays and I love to play the clarinet. I just wanted you to know.
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