Orchestra Anyone?

When I think of my most influential teacher, there is only one, my high school Orchestra teacher. A Jewish lady, towering at about 5′ 2″, she was very tall in my life by making sure I stuck to my music, so I would stay out of trouble.

She was a goofy lady who could turn angry at the drop of a bad note, but her patience was impeccable as she stuck to it until we got it right. My orchestra teacher was very disciplined and made sure I attended all my classes and amazingly, when she kept hearing me play wrong notes on my cello, she called my Mom and advised her that she suspects I needed glasses. Not long after, my Mom took me to the doctor to get my first pair of glasses and I could see the music more clearly. So not only was she my instructor, she was also, very attentive of our well-being. Not only was she kind, but she was also very stern. I remember her explicitly getting upset with me every time I’d roll my eyes out of frustration with the music or the other times, when she’d call me a gypsy because I often wore scarves, big clothes and junk jewelry.

My orchestra teacher always inspired all of us to do our best, she didn’t accept any slacking, but she came down with a hammer when she saw us failing. She’d pull you into her office and try to find ways to help. She was more like a second mother than a teacher, in my opinion, because on days that we needed more practice for rehearsals, she’d keep us longer than the after-school busses, and drive me home herself. This was a big thing because that was a long drive, all the way to the other side of the city, in “the ghetto”, in her minivan. That’s really saying something because white people didn’t come to the Black side of the city. Ever. But now that I think about it as an adult, she probably did that just to see where I lived and my living conditions.

Even though we had 3 1/2 hours of orchestra with her each day, we also took trips to far away places like Disney World in Florida and Dollywood in Tennessee for competitions. I always enjoyed the trips because I loved to travel, but it didn’t come easy. We had to put in work to go on those trips by doing fundraisers of different fruits to pay for our tickets, but not all kids could sell their fruit. I never had that problem because I always sold all my inventory, but for other kids who weren’t as fortunate, she would come out of her own pocket for them. My orchestra teacher was literally the walking testimony of “no child left behind” because we never left any of us behind. She made us practice rigorously and sometimes, she would have other functions where she only allowed the best of the best in Orchestra to play like at the White House when my school was invited. In competitions, we were a force to be wreckened with and made sure we were the best as we almost always got high ratings with the judges.

Because of her, Orchestra was not just a class to me, it was family. Even though she had (grown up) kids of her own, she made us all feel like her children too, even if we didn’t want the attention. Even though she lived further away, she always invited us to come over to her home any time, and I did once for just a simple get-together. And in my senior year of high school, she had a graduation party for us as Rock-Ola Cafe where we ate, had fun and sang karaoke. Looking back, I didn’t really appreciate it as much at the time because I was a stupid kid, but remembering all the things she did for me, now as an adult, it made me realize I was not only a student, but she loved me. She was a second mother to all of us because as I look at my high school orchestra now, their current orchestra teacher is my cello partner from back when we were in high school. So, our high school orchestra teacher had to of been a major influence in her life too, to want to come back to our high school and take her place.

My orchestra teacher was likely already in her 60s or 70s then, and that was in the 90s, so it saddens me at the thought that it’s highly likely she’s passed by now. But I remember something she told me when I was about 14 or 15 years old, “Get your instrument now, and you’ll play for the rest of your life.” And she was right. I am now 47 and I still play every now and then, on the same cello she helped my Mom get me in high school.

I don’t know if any teacher or someone who works with kids out there needs to hear this, but keep being a light to your students. Even if you think they don’t like you (they actually do like you, but they just don’t know it yet), and it doesn’t even matter if they do or not, when they grow up, they will remember you and your positive influence in their life.