Overworked and Underpaid?

 A couple of months ago,

I received a bulk e-mail asking for participants in a research-study

That focused on teaching Native American music and culture.

I accepted the invitation.

Long story short,

Out of the hundreds of music teachers who received the e-mail,

Only four responded that we would participate.

Most didn’t respond at all.

But quite a few responded that they didn’t teach Native American music.

The researcher reported that people are afraid to teach it.

They don’t want to teach it wrong.

They don’t want to perpetuate stereotypes.

They don’t know where to begin.

They don’t know where to end.

So they just don’t do it at all.

Both me and the researcher found this sad.

Here we are, living on land stolen from thriving Native American tribes--

Here we are, surviving because of the contributions of Native American tribes--

Completely ignoring their history and culture because we don’t know where to begin.

 

I didn’t know where to begin either.

So I started where I was—

With a music textbook that included a song by the Haliwa-Saponi tribe in northern NC.

I learned everything I could about the tribe and introduced myself to members of the tribe at the NC State Fair.

From there, my research expanded to other tribes and continues to expand each year.

There are a lot of nuances between tribes.

A lot that I still don’t know—

A lot that I will never know because there is so much.

But I’m trying.

And I will continue to try.

Because it is worth it to me to dispel cultural myths and to

Shed light on a culture that holds so much beauty.

 

I find it sad that it’s not worth it to more people

To do the research that it takes to teach Native American music.

Yes. Research takes time, effort, and, in some cases, money.

Yes. Teachers are overworked and underpaid.

But is that really an excuse to overlook a people group who has been

Overlooked and marginalized for far too long?

 

…

 

I recently attended my first pow wow.

I danced in the circle dance,

Holding hands with strangers as we danced in a circle of unity and love.

 

May there be more circle dances,

More unity,

More love,

More connections to the earth and the Great Spirit that created her.

 

And may we be a people not afraid of beginning…

 

Amen. 

The A-Z Song

Why, yes, I did catch myself mindlessly singing “The ABC Song” on my way home from school today. It’s an occupational hazard—always having a child-sized ear worm in your head. I’ve been singing the ABC’s with my Kindergarteners this week. I like to start with something they know—something familiar to make them feel at ease. But I also introduce them to a slightly different version of the ABC’s—one that comes from a Sesame Street clip where the letter Z is ready to quit the alphabet because he feels left out of “The ABC Song.” Tyra Banks is the host of the clip. She changes the song to “The A-Z Song” and simply makes the ending say, “Now I know from A to Z” instead of “Now I know my ABC’s.” That’s it. Nothing else changes. But the letter Z loves the new song…even though it’s practically the same thing. If you think about it, the letter Z has a point. “The ABC Song” includes all 26 letters of the alphabet, but the three at the beginning seem to get all the credit. Saying A TO Z, though, indicates that there is more than A and Z—that they aren’t the only two letters of the alphabet—but that they are the beginning and the end, the bookends that hold it together. In a time when language is easily accessible and words are seen as toys but then used as weapons; in a time when we must try not to say something politically incorrect; in a time when there is such sharp division that everything is already politically incorrect…words are more important than ever. How we phrase things, right down to the titles of our songs, matters. I suppose it can be argued that the letter Z was being arrogant and that changing the song to include him instead of B and C was being a bit letter-ist. I suppose it can be argued that changing tradition because the letter Z was offended was ridiculous—after all, he WAS represented in the song. There will always be arguments for both sides of an issue. I just hope that my words and my arguments will always land on the side of Christ, for in Christ we are inclusively One, and through Christ, we find the pathways to love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Now I know from A TO Z…next time, won’t you sing with me?

Cut From The Same Cloth, Yet...

Cut from the same cloth
Woven from threads of love, hope
Yet each one unique

You. Your neighbors. Your family and friends. Those you have yet to meet.
We are all cut from the same fabric of humanity.
Skin and bone, flesh and blood.
Fear and worry, hope and possibility.

So this Christmas, as you pause to reflect upon the story of Jesus joining the ranks of humanity, remember that you are part of something bigger and know that your life and work matter.

You are both cut from and in the process of helping weave the fabric of humanity.

May you feel the strands of Love that are woven into you and
May you weave strands of hope, joy, and peace into the lives around you,
Each one the same, yet each one unique.

A Kiss On The Forehead

On Saturday after Sir Henry Jump-ball Nephew’s basketball game, I hugged him and kissed him on the forehead. Then I told him this little tidbit of information:

I have a student who comes to hug me every morning.
He wraps both of his arms around me and rests his head just below my shoulder in a side hug.
He stays there while we talk.
He stays there if we say nothing.
He stays there until I kiss him on the forehead and tell him to have a good day.
Recently, I’ve started telling him that I love him.
I used to kiss him on top of his head but then his hair gel started getting on my face.
I moved the kiss to his forehead.
Evidently I did the right thing.
And evidently this ritual is very important to him.
Because it happens every day.
And it compels him to always do the right thing for me, even when he might choose the opposite with other teachers.

“Really?” Sir Henry responded.
“Really,” I said.

And I smiled.

I’m really grateful for the work of Martin Luther King, Jr., and other civil rights pioneers and workers who made the way and continue to make the way for people like me to have the opportunity to give side hugs and kisses and “I love you’s” to students of all races, ethnicities, and socio-economic levels. In fact, if I had to work only with like-kind, then my life would be woefully incomplete.

It is in diversity that unity most beautifully exists.

Now, friends, accept this kiss on your forehead and go have a great day.

The Fight For Light and Truth

I know that Martin Luther King, Jr. wasn’t an absolute flawless. Who is?
And I know that there were many other people involved in the Civil Rights movement and that those people stood on the shoulders of countless others.
Yet I still find myself excited to teach about Martin Luther King, Jr. every year.
I like the songs that the textbook series includes. My students do, too.
I like the picture books that the textbook series suggests. My students do, too.
I like the moments when my students realize that they have heard Martin Luther King, Jr.’s voice.
I like the moments when my students get upset about the blatant, legal segregation that used to exist.
I like the fact that my younger students have no concept of skin color—that they are terrible at seeing themselves any different than the classmates around them—and my classes are diverse.
I like the fact that my older students are starting to realize that while segregation is no longer legal, it still exists in how people treat one another and we still have a long way to go if we want equal rights for all people.
One of my classes informed me today that a certain political candidate wants to stop people from coming to America by building a wall to keep people out. They didn’t think that was right or fair.
I said, “When we don’t think something is right, it’s up to us to fight against it. That’s what Martin Luther King, Jr. did. It’s up to us to keep his dream alive. It’s up to us, every day, to make decisions to treat people the same. No matter who they are. What’s the opposite of rich? (Poor.) What’s the opposite of black? (White.) What’s the opposite of man? (Woman.) MLK, Jr. believed that people were people, regardless of any of these things. I hope that on Monday you’ll think about these things. And that maybe one day you, too, will grow up to fight for the good in people.”
Then we watched kid president challenge us to dream and sang Free At Last, and I silently prayed the prayer of my desk calendar for today:
“Send out your light and your truth, that they may lead us…O God my God.”
Amen.

The Olympics, A Right Butt Muscle, and a Left Armpit

I had the privilege of leading my final 2012 camp staff Bible study last night. After a review of everything we’d talk about over the summer (love languages, personality type, Genesis 1, God as Creator, Psalm 139, God as big enough to handle raw honesty), we dove into a study of Romans 12 and what it means to live our lives—our uniquely created and gifted lives—as sacrifices of praise who pour love into this world. I’d led studies on Romans 12 before, but last night’s study hit me in a new way—a deeper way—thanks to the Olympics, right butt muscle, and left armpit.

For the past few weeks, my left armpit and part of my shoulder have been going numb when I sit on a certain part of my right butt muscle (gluteus maximus for those who want to use the technical term). I hadn’t understood this odd connection until I did some research and learned that when I sit on a certain muscle on my right (that happens to be the one that I sit on when I drive and sit at my desk), it affects a muscle in my left back, that affects a nerve on my spine, that causes my armpit to go numb. Really? Our bodies are that intricately connected? (Yes. I know that our bodies are intricately connected, but for some reason this particular connection has fascinated me.)

When we speak of the body of Christ, we tend parallel parts such as hands, feet, mouth, heart, and brain. But what about the pleasure organs, the waste removal organs, the belly button, the scalines, the white blood cells, the right butt muscle, and the left armpit? They are parts of the body, too, and, as I’ve learned recently, they are important to a body’s proper functioning, albeit some are more important than others at different points in life.

We need all parts to make the whole.

All parts.

And we need all parts to be most fully themselves, most healthily themselves, which means acting as themselves instead of trying to function as something else, in order to function at our best.

Like many of you, I watched parts of the Olympics over the weekend. I watched the opening ceremony in awe, and I flat out cried as the Olympic flame was lit. To see the torch carried by seven teenagers—by seven of the finest of our future—and to see them embraced by their mentors—by the older persons who had believed and continue to believe in them—and to watch them light individual petals that had been carried into the arena by each country participating in the Olympics—and to watch those petals seamlessly connect with other petals and ignite flames from around the world—and to watch those petals rise up to form one united flame…well…it was absolutely amazing.

I also watched Goksu Uctas, the first Turkish gymnast ever to compete in the Olympics, perform a perfect balance beam routine. Before Goksu, no one from Turkey had considered it possible to compete in Olympic gymnastics. Because she considered it, though—because gymnastics gave her hope and purpose after her life was destroyed by an earthquake—because she trained against all odds, sometimes even practicing outside—she made it to the Olympics. Even though her routine wasn’t complicated enough to compete with the powerhouse individual scores, she did her very best with what she had been given, and she made her family, her coaches, her country, and this American very proud.

Unity in diversity. Doing your best with what you have. Believing in those who have gone before and will come behind you. Understanding your life as connected with other lives and owning the fact that what you do—good or bad—affects the larger whole. Accepting the call to consciously live your life in such a way that you are a living example of sacrificial love…

Those are the things that struck me last night during our Romans 12 study…all because of the Olympics, right butt muscle, and left arm-pit.

What truths are striking you today?