Today we said goodbye to a longtime member of our family; Fergus was nearly 14 years old. I do not exaggerate when I say he was a family member, as Nathan and Erin literally grew up with him. They were about 7 and 5 when he came to live with us in the spring of 2001, and Nathan recently turned 21. Though this post may seem a departure from my usual health and fitness stuff, A) I don't really care, and B) there are plenty of studies showing the health benefits of having a pet.
Fergus was one of ten puppies from the mating of sire Duncan's Duck Darling (Duncan) and Belle. Registered with the AKC as "Belle's Irishman Fergus," we brought him home right around Tulip Time.
He was born on St. Patrick's Day, so the "requirement" was an Irish name. We struggled and argued over the name for the week before we brought him home, even consulting our still-owned baby name book (which was used for the last time in this case...) before we came up with a name we could all agree on. "Fergus" was a fitting name for the roly-poly black Labrador puppy, and the fun and excitement of raising a dog began in earnest. Potty training, obedience, etc. were duties shared among the four of us, and he learned pretty quickly.
We were always pretty sure we knew where Fergus saw himself in the pack that was our family. I was clearly the Alpha male,
with Dana a close second in the hierarchy. He seemed to struggle with where he and Nathan fit in exactly, but Erin was always his best buddy and we were certain he thought himself a notch above her. Until one day when she was in maybe eighth grade and she used the voice that we are all blessed with when she wanted him out of the kitchen. I swear his face fell a mile when he realized he was at the bottom... But he was a happy dog and content to be wherever the family was at all times.
We told ourselves we wouldn't let him on the furniture. OK, but not the bed. OK, at least not.... Oh, never mind. We did stick to crate training and keeping him from virtually all "people food," and
he always got glowing reports from Dr. Heitman regarding his health and weight.
Sometimes you read stories about heroic dogs, or ones who know instinctively to bark to warn against strangers. Not Fergus. He'd have let anyone in the house, and he was quite simply a happy-go-lucky, dorky dog with maybe two exceptions. Anyone who has known us or Fergus for any length of time already knows these, and my kids are rolling their eyes right now, because apparently I tell some stories more than once...
The first of these came early in his life, and was absolutely adorable. Erin was maybe six years old, and she wanted to take the dog for a walk all by herself. We usually didn't just let her wander off by herself, thank you very much, so we didn't really know what to think. But hey, what's one time around our pretty short block, right? What could happen? (I'll tell you what could happen: she could be dragged along the sidewalk helplessly clinging to the
leash while Fergus ran amok...) "OK, just let me get him to the sidewalk for you," because he was still pretty rambunctious when it came to walking. We could definitely avoid her getting pulled down the stairs if nothing else, right?
Fergus was his usual crazy self when I got the leash. He always loved going for walks, even from a very young age. My misgivings were not eased at all as he ran out the front door and practically dove down the steps. I got him to sit and relax for a minute (barely) so I could make sure Erin knew what to do. Still not knowing what the end result would be, I gave her the leash and she said, "come on, Fergus, let's go for a walk."
And he did. Simply got up from his seated position and toddled right alongside the small six-year-old girl, happily walking by her side all the way down the block as though he did this all the time. We watched in amazement as they made it to the end of the block and turned the corner. After a few minutes Nathan and I thought it would be a good idea to head the other way around just to see how it was going. It was still going great! Until Fergus saw us... They were maybe a half-block away when he bolted to greet us, easily yanking the leash out of Erin's hands. She was so mad! At me... Thus began their lifelong friendship, with Erin frequently tweeting about "The Fergs" and his antics over the last couple years.
The other time involved beer brewing and a total stranger... I had just acquired my giant new brewing system, shipped all the way from California, and was trying a new batch. Fergus was probably around five or so.
Since I still didn't have the process mastered with the new system, Erin was on hand to assist as needed (I know, brewing beer with my 10-year-old daughter...). Getting the grain into the highest kettle was going to be a two-handed process. She held the bag of grain while I scooped it into the hot water.
We were in that position, me on a step stool, her holding a 20 pound sack of barley, when we saw a small child walking slowly up the driveway toward the back yard. Both of us stopped to watch - we'd never seen this kid before. The strangest thing happened: Fergus, usually ecstatic to see virtually anyone and eager to plaster them with sloppy kisses, saw the kid, too. And he sat down. Right in the grass, perfectly still. We all watched as the young boy jumped the fence, Fergus still sitting quietly.
The brewing was forgotten as we stared dumbfounded as this maybe six-year-old kid walked right in the back door as if he never saw us! Fergus was still watching. Erin and I did the classic double take back and forth, completely unsure of how to proceed, when we saw a very distressed-looking teenage boy walking down the sidewalk in front of our house. Putting two and two together we said something to him; relief flooded the poor kid's face and he hustled to the gate.
Dana, meanwhile, was in the house reading the paper. Being a basically chill person most of the time, she didn't think it terribly odd that a small child had just wandered into the house, but she was definitely intrigued! I sent the teenager into the house after the boy, who had, as I recall, made his way upstairs.
As it turns out, Vincent was autistic and our house was on his list of favorite things somehow. The teen boy was a new babysitter, and hadn't been paying close attention for a couple minutes, and Vincent wandered off. Vincent's mom showed up, flagged down by me as she slowly drove down the street (had to be related to the situation, I figured...). She apologized profusely, and made Vincent apologize, too, for being rude and walking into the house. (For the record, none of us were bothered by the idea; the little guy just wanted to see our house! "No apology necessary," I think I said to his mom.)
How did Fergus know? What special dog sense did he possess to not even approach this little boy? He loved kids. OK, he loved everybody. But he somehow knew that this boy was different. He kept his distance, didn't jump, didn't lick, didn't do anything he usually did. Just sat and watched.
We've been asked if we are getting another dog, and the answer for a while will be "no." Why? Well, there will be the convenience factor of not having to get a dog-sitter any time we leave for the weekend and that sort of thing. But honestly? We had the perfect dog for almost 14 years. We can't possibly do any better, and probably can't do that well with any other dog.
We'll miss you, old friend. Tomorrow morning's wake-up routine will be different. We will miss the happy, laughing face greeting us at the top of the back steps when we come home. We'll miss your weird ability to tell time - how on Earth could you tell when it was 6:00 p.m. and time for dinner? (He could do noon lunch, too...) The morning snuggles, evening snuggles, and all of the snuggles in between as you plopped yourself into our laps on the couch.
So goodbye, faithful one. We will remember you forever.
This post goes out mostly to my colleagues on the Facebook band directors' group, affectionately known as "The BDG." I think it may be relevant to all of my teacher colleagues, and even mere mortals may find its content beneficial, so you're all welcome to read it. I am hoping that on the BDG, at least, it will cause some (hopefully healthy and constructive) discussion.
Last month I rode in a mountain bike race. For those who don't know me, this was no big deal - I'm no superstar; more of a "hey, that sounds like fun, and they let anyone do it" kind of weekend warrior on the bike. If you're interested, you can read that post here. There's something about being on the bike for nearly four hours that can either clear my mind and make me forget about a lot of things, or let my mind wander in order to get through the ride. Kind of along the lines of taking my mind off the pain and suffering, you know?
One of the things I got to thinking about as I had a remarkably enjoyable weekend was the fact that I was away from school. And on Friday night I wasn't just away from school, I was away from a football game. Yep, the team went deep into the playoffs again this season (the following week we won the quarter-final game, with the band marching in boots and hats surrounded by eight inches of snow on a freshly-shoveled field), and we had a home game and the band wasn't there.
*This wasn't because I was heading to a bike race; it was due to the fall theater production of "A Tale of Two Cities" happening in the auditorium. Playoffs and the fall play frequently run into each other; this year the director asked if we would skip the band playing on Friday so he wouldn't have to deal with all of the extra hassle, and I agreed. So no commentary on my slacker attitude and not supporting the team, please. But indeed I was NOT at school, not reading email, not watching playing tests, or anything to do with my job. AND I FELT GREAT.
During the race, as usually happens when I ride, snatches of band music would play through the jukebox in my head. We're working on Overture to Candide with the Wind Ensemble, so that was there, but more apropos to the MTB riding were phrases from Hazo's Ride, which we did last spring with the Symphonic Band. I say this because I'm proud of my kids and proud of the program, and yes, I can even say that I am proud of my teaching. I do some pretty good stuff with and for students, from band to mountain bike club to having several kids in on a day off to learn how to re-wrap keyboard mallets. It is also, as you might have figured out, to show the level of playing we do, which may come into play as you continue to read.
For some reason I also started thinking about several posts I've read on the BDG (hey, I was on the bike for almost four hours...). And the thrust of those thoughts went along the lines of what I personally do to make sure I can still do this job after three decades.
I offer these thoughts as something that works for me. I'm writing this to the folks who wonder what they can do because they find themselves at school for 12-14 hours a day every week and are counting the days until they check out. So here's what I do.
- I don't answer email on the weekends. As a matter of fact I tell my parents and students that I don't read email after I get home at night, whether that be at 2:15 (I have a zero hour at 6:30) or 8:15 p.m. TURN OFF SCHOOL at some point during your day. When I started teaching we didn't even have email. Hell, I didn't have a computer until my second year in 1988 (aaahhh, the Apple IIe with the famed dual disc drive... the memories...). We used to get messages from people on those little pink "while you were out" pages from the school secretary. We weren't sitting at school at 8 p.m. waiting for the phone to ring, so why should we constantly check email? It can wait.
- Same goes for voicemail, though this one is slightly different. About 15 years ago I returned to my office on Friday for a game. The message light was blinking on my phone, so I checked it. "Hey, Keith, Mike here. Say, there's a parent concern we need to talk about on Monday, so plan to be in my office by 3:30, please." From the assistant superintendent. After school on Friday. WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE THIS MESSAGE WHEN YOU KNOW I CAN'T REACH YOU TO TALK ABOUT IT?? So from that day forward I don't wreck my weekend with voicemail, either. It can wait. (Yes, sometimes even on game nights - if a kid is calling in sick, the message will still be there on Monday. Same idea as the pink phone slips that I'd get on Monday morning when the school secretary came in and got the weekend messages off the answering machine.)
- Sometimes I walk away from it all. There are days when it's just time to leave. And if that day happens to be a nice one, I will frequently leave at my contractual time and go ride my bike somewhere. Yep, contract time. For me this year that's 1:55 p.m. If I hurry I can be on the bike by 2:30.
- Some weekends I'll spend some hours on my deck brewing a batch of beer or two. Over the years I've spent far too much money on that particular hobby...
- I would love to practice my trumpet more, but that usually doesn't happen. I've been doing it quite a bit lately because I played in a musical a few weeks ago, and every time I get a chance like this I remember how much fun it is to play. At 50 years old keeping my chops in shape still sucks, but I love performing in groups. I've done some brass quintets and such, as well as plenty of college and HS musicals over the years, along with weddings, church gigs, etc.
That's probably a partial list, but you get the idea. So back to the title of this post: What did YOU do for yourSELF this weekend? Score study doesn't count - that's school, even though it will benefit you as you teach. How did you walk away? Or did you?
Posted on a board in my office is an ancient copy of an article from The Instrumentalist magazine entitled "Director Puts Band in Proper Perspective." It's from a veteran teacher who finally decided that he'd had enough. Enough of the after-school sectionals, enough of the all-day Saturday rehearsals, enough of private lessons, etc. Midway through the article he says, "and you know what? My bands got better." And he goes on to detail the more relaxed atmosphere and his and his students' happiness.
One evening when my son was about three years old I came up the stairs from the laundry room wearing my jazz band shirt. Nathan loved everything I did with the bands; once I even brought him up on stage so the jazz band could play "Happy Birthday." He's a bass performance/elementary music ed major at MSU now, so apparently he wasn't too traumatized by my job. But I remember on this particular occasion seeing his face fall in disappointment as he realized that if I was wearing that shirt it meant I was leaving again. Who knows the reason for him not being excited about band on that one night? But it really hit me.
Occasionally I will read posts or replies on the BDG site that talk about the constant 16-hour days (not really exaggerating here) that some directors spend at school. Sometimes it is the younger teachers, perhaps just married or with a new baby at home, wondering how they can change things or avoid burnout. Recently there were a few posts about "I'm so sick I can't go to school, but I don't feel that I can take a sick day." I can tell you honestly that I have never, in 28 years of teaching, spent 16 hours at school unless it was during the high school musical season or connected to a football game, etc. In other words, because the band was performing or I was otherwise required to be there. So probably a dozen times per year, give or take.
As a point of reference, I run a 200+ member program with five performing ensembles that meet from zero through 5th hours. During the first semester my large marching band class counts as two classes in one, and splits into two separate hours second semester. Virtually all of those students march; we had 197 on the field this year. We perform for two separate high school football programs, covering virtually all Friday games for the regular season (full band or pep band), and usually all the home playoff games as well. The band does not travel to any away games except for state finals (three times in ten years).
Are you spending more than 12 hours at your building every day? I would honestly appreciate a look at what you're doing. No disrespect intended here; I am wondering what fills that much time. How much time do you spend on your off hours doing school stuff? This can include score study, sectionals, playing test evals, etc. Anything "off the clock" that is officially not part of your salary.
- Do you require sectionals, private study, etc.? Are your students buying in to what you are requiring? Do they do after-school sectionals because they are excited to learn more, or because it will affect their grade if they don't attend? The schedules my students maintain in activities do not allow me to require very many after-school band things; we do a Monday night rehearsal during marching season from6:30- 9:00.
- Can what you are doing wait until tomorrow so you can spend time with family or friends?
- What are your requirements for lesson planning, etc.? I know from more than one elementary teacher friend that many lessons take far longer to write than they do to actually teach. I fear that I would be in serious trouble if my district or state starts requiring me to do all of that every week...
I sort of don't want to mention this next idea, but here goes: I fear that sometimes we as band directors do the "humble brag" thing as far as hours at school are concerned. Maybe it's our competitive nature that makes that happen. You know what I mean: the guy in the program five miles away, who gets straight I's at every festival is at school for 12 hours every day, so maybe you need to be, too. But try as I might, I can't spend 12 hours at school every day.
Well, I hope to get some constructive commentary going regarding these thoughts. As I finish this post I am sitting in the living room with my wife and kids (who are home from college), having just completed a 12-hour day! Today was the second audition day for the HS musical, so we spent some serious time as a staff putting together the cast. Irony? Maybe, but I get paid for my role with the theater, so maybe not.
So... What DID you do last weekend? I hope it was fulfilling and meaningful and didn't have to involve your job!
Wow. Almost exactly a month since I have written anything. Well, that's not exactly true - I have one completed that I won't publish but it felt good to write, as well as started a couple, and one more (about my trip back to the spring crash site) that I'm not quite sure about. So plenty of effort, but no product to show for it. Last week I started one about school lunches and Michelle Obama. I like my ideas, but at the time it felt like too much work!
So here's what's been up lately:
- The numbers on the scale generally are around 190 pounds, representing a total of 36 pounds off my frame in the last two years. I would like that number to be higher (or lower, depending on which of the two numbers you're talking about), but I feel good and am not concerned right now about a particular number.
- I finished another detox class. Dana and I actually taught this one, and I think things went pretty well. We had a few new students and one alumni to the program, and all reported feeling better as well as losing an average of, I believe, 8 pounds each over the course of the 28 days!
- I have been riding some since the Iceman race, but kind of took November off. I did get about 100 miles for the month, so that was good. The number for the year at this point is 2215 miles on at least four different bikes. THAT is a number I can get behind. Had I not broken myself I am certain I'd have cracked the 3K mark.
Today was an unusually beautiful December day, with the sun shining and temps in the mid-40s. It was also officially Global Fat Bike Day, so a couple of friends and I hit the trails in the Allegan Forest for about 15 miles. Great time!
It was a great way to end what turned out to be kind of a crappy week at school. Nothing major, just busy and frustrating. It started with the Christmas parade, in which the HS band marched in 17 degree weather because I decided the community needed to have the marching band in the parade rather than keep the students warm and their instruments working (seriously - by the end of the parade, less than a mile, the brass instruments were all frozen and unworkable, and the woodwinds literally had icicles forming inside them). I will not let that happen again! It ended, though, with getting to spend some quality time after school (and even during at least one class) with some great kids, which always helps me remember that pretty much any other job pales in comparison to mine.
So there you go. I will re-visit the few drafts I have in the folder, and hopefully finish them all soon!
