Many people have that teacher who really made a positive
impact on their life. For me, it was my
Biology teacher, who I will call Mr. Cool-guy, to protect the innocent. He was a young man at the time, though I
never saw that or realized it. But he
had kids younger than me so he must have been young, right?
Mr. Cool-guy's style was very engaging and he was patient in his way of
teaching. Even when he was angry at you,
he was nice about it. Never yelled or
belittled you. A really cool guy and he
inspired me.
But what about that teacher who scarred you for life? That one that STILL makes you cringe when you
occasionally are reminded of that person?
I have one of those. She was my
Music teacher in grades 5 and 6.
Thankfully, I left her behind because grades 7-12 were in the high
school which was a different building altogether!
I have 2 nasty memories of her that stick out. The one that was pivotal for me happened in
Grade 5. I truly feel this was the start
of my lack of self-esteem. It was time
for choir tryouts and I was so excited!
I loved singing so much and I really don’t know if I could sing or
not. I was an empty vessel that wanted
to be filled with music and I so wanted to be in the choir.
I come from a musical
family. All my aunts and uncles on my
mom’s side are musical. Piano players,
guitar players, singers and accordion players, to name a few. You name it, and someone could play it. Many of the offspring of this clan also have
the musical bug. My Aunt C. has 2 sons
who played in bands their wholes lives, drumming and singing and playing
whatever need to be played. And still
do.
I too, had the musical bug, or at least I believe I
did. But along came The Exterminator,
the Crusher of Hopes and Dreams of Young Girls, Ms. Pelly. Her name has not been changed because she is
not innocent. I picture her now as a 65
year old spinster who is surrounded by cats and has stacks of newspapers
resembling a maze in her living room. That
woman was so bitter and it showed in everything she did. Of course I can say that now, because I have
had many years to mull this over. 33
years to be exact. I wonder if she has
any idea the impact she had on me that day.
I can only hope that as she got more experience teaching, she stopped
being such a destroyer of little hearts.
 |
| Molly Ringwald |
Picture 10 year old me. That 70’s mushroom bowl cut. (See above! I refuse to post a photo of myself!) Wearing bell bottoms and playing hopscotch on
a board that we scratched in the gravel of our unpaved school parking lot. Wide eyed and bushy tailed. Ready to sing my heart out!
The choir tryout consisted of the never-so-lovely Ms. Pelly
striking a note on the piano and telling me to sing it. One note.
One tiny note. And only once. I
don’t know about you, but back circa 1979, 10 year old kids in rural Newfoundland were not
lucky enough to have had singing lessons and I had no idea how to hit a note
on cue. So, of course, I was not able to
sing the note and with that, the tryout was over and I was out the door. I was crushed and humiliated!
So here I am, over 3 decades later, still influenced by that
one note, so very long ago. It has only
been in the last couple of years have I
found my voice and have let it out in front of people, while playing Sing Star
mostly! But it took a very long time to
get there. That one little note
still continues to influence anything and everything about music for me.
In grade 6, I started guitar lessons. It really helps to sing while you are
learning to play guitar, but by now I had developed a complex and refused to
sing while playing guitar. For the rest
of my time in school, grades 6-12, I continued to take guitar lessons, but I
never ever made sounds come out of my mouth in the form of a song.
Talk about crushing the spirit of a young child. How could anyone be so…mean? I can only assume that she was so unhappy
with her life (and this was 1979, not much back then for counselling) and her
only outlet was the kids she taught.
Maybe she was abused at home. Maybe
she was an alcoholic. Hooked on Happy
Pills. Who knows? Those things weren’t
really talked about back then. All I do
know, is I wish I had never even met her.
EVER. Who knows what I could have
done with my music, if she hadn’t crush it like it was nothing of consequence.
These days, if a kid wants to be in choir, well then choir
it is. No tryouts necessary. Anyone who wants to learn to play an
instrument, can. My daughter picked
saxophone and learned how to play a song within the first few weeks. She taught herself violin. She can play the ukulele. She can play the tin flute. The
recorder. That’s progress or maybe it’s
just less about controlling the child now and more about letting them explore
their potential.
I have yearned my whole life for the confidence to sing and
know I don’t sound like a cat with its tail stuck in a door. I really don’t know how I sound and I am
scared to find out.
