Congratulations, Sally!

Friday night was an epic evening in Greenbelt, MD. It was a night of wonderful music and tributes to my friend and colleague, Sally Wagner, as she prepares to retire at the end of this school year.

Sally is retiring after 40 years public education and 34 years at Eleanor Roosevelt  High School. We shared an office from 1992-2001 and developed a friendship and musical/educational partnership that will last a lifetime. In the years that I was there, ERHS won numerous awards, including 2 White Blue Ribbons, a New American High School award, countless musical honors, and many other incredible recognitions. We took musical ensembles to England, Scotland, the Yucatan Peninsula, and locations all over the United States. We took on musical challenges and endeavors that were lofty and ultimately incredibly rewarding for the students and teachers alike. We shared in each other's successes and failures, joys and sorrows, and daily challenges. We became fast friends, trusted colleagues, and grew to genuinely care for each other and support each other on a daily basis.

Last night, each of the Roosevelt bands performed two selections, and they were all fantastic. From the prestigious Eleanor Roosevelt Wind Ensemble to the newly named Roosevelt Band, the students performed with precision, artistry, and passion at their respective levels. An alumni band performed at the end of the evening consisting of just about 100 alumnus from the past 34 years at Eleanor Roosevelt. True to form, Sally ended the evening with a beautiful Benediction that served as a poignant ending to the evening and this portion of her career.

Throughout the evening, several folks had an opportunity to pay tribute to Sally. Speakers included my friend Dr. Gerald Boarman, for whom the Eleanor Roosevelt Auditorium is named. The audience also heard from my friend and current principal of Eleanor Roosevelt, Dr Reginald McNeil, former principal Sylvester Conyers, and distinguished alumnus Dr Rebecca Phillips, class of '90. I was honored to be among these folks and the many others who spoke that night.  There were also tributes from the Maryland Music Educators Association, The Maryland Senate, and even a congratulatory tribute from President Obama!

It was a fitting tribute to a true music educator. Sally has impacted thousands of young lives both musically and personally throughout her distinguished career. The love that was shared on that stage was simply stunning.  It was clear that the students on that stage represented the many more that had walked through her classroom door over the years.  Her awards are too numerous to mention even some of them individually. Suffice it to say, her impact is broad.

Friday evening was followed by a wonderful ERHS band alumni picnic on Saturday.  At the picnic I had the opportunity to reconnect with so many former students that are now young professionals and young parents.  I can't tell you how proud I am of each and every one of them.  And, their reaction to me really warmed my heart.

In the end, it was a great weekend of reflection and re-connection.  I had a chance to reflect on the importance of my time at ERHS.  My years there were so important to me as a professional, musician, educator, husband, and father.  And, my relationship with Sally was central to all of those areas.  I am so happy for her and wish her all the best in every new adventure that comes her way.  And, for those of you that are looking at potential band clinicians for coming years, book her now.  I know that her schedule is going to fill up fast!!

Peace.

Scott

A Christmas Story

Back in December, 1995, I was teaching at Eleanor Roosevelt High School in Greenbelt, MD. I was fully immersed in the rigors of running a high powered string program in the suburban Washington, DC area and the stress was catching up with me. The fall had included All State Orchestra auditions, numerous concerts, including a concerto concert that need to be prepared and performed in a very short time, a couple of fruit-sale fundraisers, and the rigors of my regular teaching schedule; not to mention the traffic, cost of living, and real-life stresses of living in that area. My overall attitude had become pretty gray – especially for me, a generally enthusiastic and positive guy. I loved my work, but my outlook wasn't generally positive. Life had become a treadmill of school, fundraising, musical performances, negotiating traffic, church obligations, and a variety of other stresses. I certainly wasn't in the mood or frame of mind to appreciate the Christmas season in all of its richness.

As we moved toward the holidays and I was immersed in concerto concert rehearsals, my wife and I ran out one evening to get a Christmas tree for our home. We were still relatively new homeowners, but we had a nice tradition already of putting up a live tree at Christmas and enjoyed the process. We had a number of ornaments that were quite important to us, many of which had been given to us by students over the years. Our tree was an important symbol of faith and friendship and really represented us and our, albeit, short history at that point.

This tree, however, had a mind of its own. I don't know if the trunk was a little bit curved or if it was never mounted properly in the stand, but it just didn't want to stand up in the corner of our living room. If memory serves, I even used some wire to try to tie the top to a curtain rod to keep it in a vertical orientation. My recollection is that it had actually fallen down a couple of times and I thought that I finally had it up to stay. It was fully decorated and looked great.

One evening, after a particularly stressful day of teaching and rehearsing for the concerto concert, I arrived home at a late hour. I walked in the front door of the house, only to be greeted by my wife and a tree that was lying in the middle of the living room floor. That was it. The proverbial straw had broken the camel's back. I picked up the tree, ornaments and all, and pitched it out the front door. I was done with it. There would be no tree in the Laird's house this Christmas. My wife was mortified. I was resolved. I was done with trees for the year. The tree, effectively, had come to represent the sum total of my frustration with life, work, over-commitment and all that was out of control in my life.

I went to school the next day and related the story to my Chamber Orchestra, a group of exceptional string musicians that would be accompanying all of the concerto soloists that weekend. As I told the story of my previous evening, I could see the horror on their faces as I told the story of throwing the tree out the front door. At that point, I had more clarity of perspective and thought it was a kind of funny story to relate to my students. They however, perceived it as a result of something much deeper and apparently felt the depth of my frustration with life and work and took my state of mind to heart.

I went on with my crazy schedule for the next couple of days and basically forgot about the situation. I had too many obligations to dwell on any one thing and simply moved on. About two nights later, I was at a rehearsal at my church until fairly late. We were preparing for our annual Christmas Eve service and I would play a fairly large role as an instrumentalist. As I arrived home on that week-day evening, and walked up my driveway and onto the porch, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was just another quiet night and I was looking forward to getting home and relaxing after a long and busy day.

As I walked into the house, I could tell something was different. I walked into my living room and there was a fully decorated tree all set up in the corner of the room! I could hear some shuffling around in the kitchen and quickly turned around. Like a bunch of clowns climbing out of a phone booth, out came orchestra student after orchestra student from my kitchen. There must have been 15 or 20 of them there: kids from all over Prince George's County, MD. They had contacted my wife and asked if they could come over and set up a new tree. They went and picked one out, cut it down, and came over to my house where my wife had made hot cocoa and cookies for them and made a little party out of it. They weren't just kids that celebrate Christmas, either. There were kids from Jewish and Hindu backgrounds there as well. They were at my home as an expression of kindness and caring for their teacher. It was just the most perfect expression of love that I could have imagined at that time. They cared about me and they wanted to help me find the joy in the season. Did they ever! I still think back to the joy I felt that night and the selfless act of those kids from Eleanor Roosevelt. They gave me a magnificent gift.

One of my favorite aspects of the tree itself was the fact that when they got it into the house it was a little too tall for our 8 foot ceilings. Since it was already mounted in the base, they cut the extra 12 inches or so off of the top of the tree! It made for a perfect look for the living room. I think, in many ways, that made me love that tree even more. They ended up staying at my place for a while that evening. We talked about each of our family traditions and shared a great deal of conversation, laughter, and holiday treats.

Today, I took about 10 of my current students to play a Bach Cantata at a local church. It was such a pleasure to spend some extra time outside of class with this group. In many ways, they remind me of that group back in 1995. Then again, I have been blessed with great students every year. The relationships that we develop are deep and rich. The friendships that we develop, in many cases, last a lifetime. As I was driving the school van, filled with fine student musicians and lovely people, I felt so very blessed to have these opportunities to develop deep relationships with these kids. The cantata went great. It was really a rich morning with them. I am so looking forward to class tomorrow!

Happy Holidays to all of you. I wish you all the true joy of giving and receiving. Today, I am celebrating all that I receive from my students. Thanks to all of you. And, thanks to all of you that have passed through my classroom in the past. You have no idea how much you have given to me. I receive your gifts with love and gratitude.

Peace.

Scott

 

I Was Once a Violinist

The following is an essay that was written by a former student. He posted this on his Facebook page and I asked his permission to share it with you all. In it, he outlines so many of the hopes that I have for each of my students. Generally, his is a life that has been enriched by his participation in strings and orchestra. I am proud to have been both the "dancing conductor" and "Scott" to whom he refers! He got it. He received all that orchestra was intended to give. That is, a life enriched.
Peace.
Scott


Tonight I walked alone into a concert hall in LaGrange, Ga. A friend from my Tuesday and Thursday night trivia team is also in the local symphony, and she got me free tickets.

I brought a book with me to keep the boredom away before the show started, during the intermission, and if they started to suck.

Mind you, since I left the stage for the last time in April of 2002 (the last time I was in an orchestra), I have played at different churches for worship choruses. I have played the violin for myself at very random and sporadic times in praising God, using an old red hymnal from my childhood church. I have even seen professional symphonies from coast to coast, whether in Jacksonville, Denver, LA, or DC. This was not the first time I had been to see music performed.

The first piece, Strauss’ Die Fledermaus was decent enough and kept my attention. The second was a rather challenging arrangement by Tchaikovsky (Var. Rococo Theme OP33), a solo for cello. I came quickly to find that this young man, while not notorious enough to brighten the halls of the Kennedy Center or other infamous venues, was more than enough to take my breath away.

I found myself sitting on the edge of my chair, leaning into the high notes of this prodigy’s tune, and melting into a puddle as the depths of his lower range shook the foundations of the building. I was enthralled. The ending came too soon.

I was delightfully surprised to find that the conductor then allowed this young man the stage alone. While the rest of the orchestra sat as part of the audience, this young man played a soul rendering Bach piece that was short, non-technical, but lyrical throughout.

Intermission came and went, as well as a chapter or two from my book. The lights went down, and memory lane commenced. Within seconds of the opening of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Easter Russian Festival, I was lost in time.

Having played this piece numerous times, my mind wandered to yesteryear. Definitely not planned and definitely not organized, memories started to dislodge themselves from the recesses of my mind. With the quickening beat of the conductor’s baton, I sat back in amazement as I recalled…

…the smells of Eleanor Roosevelt high schools’ orchestra room, rosin filling my nose, while I ate there during lunch both junior and senior year.

…the stickiness of bow rosin if you wipe it off with your fingers.

…the crazy athleticism of my high school Orchestra director from the conductor’s stand and his never ending drives and swells to make the music come alive. In many ways, his dance became the rhythm that set the tone for the evening.

…various stand partners and all my crazy antics from all those years (5th grade thru the end of college.) Besides Josh Raskin, my only male stand partner, I spent countless hours vibing, laughing with, and fiddling around with Annette, Doris, Hannah, Maria, etc. For one Christmas, Doris gave me an Animal key chain (the drummer from the Muppets). She said it fit my personality. (Some things don’t change; all puns intended.)

…the sweat that lingered on my uniform after concerts until dry cleaned by my Mom.

…JB and all of our crazy escapades from Day One. Whether it was in wrestling practice, Bible Club, Prom, camping, overnights, “princesses,” or whatever we filled our time with, Scott and God were never far from our minds.

…from 6th grade through the end of my Senior year of ERHS, Allan Chui and I were friends from first sight. Through the wars of acne, youth orchestras and the Kennedy Center, the trials of junior high boys, the competition of awards, endless Friday afternoons at the movies, or the stage fright of “macking,” we always had our strings to keep us looking forwards and upwards.

…the hand lotion of my junior high orchestra director. There were times that I think I wished my violin would go out of tune, just so that she would have to come and retune it, filling my nose with her delightful smells once again. (Okay, yeah, I had a crush.)

Back to the present…Korsakov had to finish at some point. But just in case my trip was not over, Sir Edward Elgar’s (and now all the band and orchestra geeks are shaking their heads at me) Pomp and Circumstance March finished the program. If I had been alone when I walked in, the memories were coming full blast at me now, sitting down next to me, making me lose all sense of time and space.

Again, I was reminded of…

…tossing the tassel at my graduation from high school and college from right to left.

…my close friends, Jeffrey, Philip, and Rosemary Walters. To say that I was a part of their family growing up would be an understatement; I had dinner at their house weekly, if not monthly. Never having brothers, these men filled those roles, whether it was the older brother that I idolized, or the little brother that we ganged up against. “Mom,” to the great disapproval of my biological, was my first choral director, my churches’ organist (which was a coveted position in my life), my substitute teacher, and one of the most influential women of my musical and spiritual upbringing. We love you. We miss you.

…my angry organist-turned-orchestra-director from college. He really had no idea what he was doing up there; the orchestra from his tapes that were playing in his mind never reflected the sound that we cacophon-ized. I missed every other conductor I had sat under, every time.

…all the girls that I had crushes on. Whether it was redheads, blondes, or brunettes, whether in church or school, whether in practice and sweats or performance day and black skirts, I had the privilege to play with some gorgeous women. I still don’t think I would have the cahounas to ask most of them out, even today.

…the fact that I still carry my violin with me on the road. In 1992 or ’93, my mother bought me my own violin, which I still carry in its old, beat up, plastic case. Usually it sits in my closet, collecting dust.

Tonight, I was lost to the moment. I was no longer 29, but 13, 18, and 21 again. I thought about the cliques of my high school and longed to be a part of them. I sat there thinking of how proud I was for every time my sisters had crossed the stage, and how I am looking forward to all future stage crossings from them, myself, and our kids. I sat there wondering how I had gotten here, in Podunkville, GA, while dreaming about Beltsville, Hyattsville, Greenbelt, Baltimore, and Grove City.

Completely, wholly, I started to think back about all the things I had looked forward to, things that I had already accomplished. So many moments that had passed me by. So many times I had failed at taking the risks I had dreamed of, jumping off the ledge into. So many achievements that I never ever imagined I would have done by now, even in my wilder moments, that I look back on now with pride.

I sat there thinking “Am I where that kid dreamed I would be? If I could say something to that kid now, what would it be? If I am not where I want to be, from then or now, what is truly holding me back? Why am I not bold enough to dream, and then pursue, if the course of my life has not matched my fantasies?”

I sat there conducting the Orchestra myself, and as I tapped my feet, nodded my head, and even once or twice was so entranced that my hands were moving as well, I was lost in the music. And then it was finished.

And when I walked out, the sun was down.