A More Beautiful Place

By Paula E. Bird

I find it interesting how "coincidence" works. Is there such a thing? Or is it synchronicity?

This week I have heard from two dear friends from different locations around the globe and about two different subjects, and yet both interactions concerned the same general theme. Let me share with you.

One sweet friend from the other side of the world, a missionary in Albania, wrote me to recommend some books for my teaching studio. One of these books can be heard on YouTube here. This is the story of the Lupine Lady and beautifully read here. The lesson takeaway for me from this lovely story is the "third thing" that the heroine must do in her lifetime: do something to make the world more beautiful.

My other dear friend is Camille Brady, a missionary in a neighboring community. Camille recently posted her remembered experience of the time that she spent preparing for her senior violin recital as an undergraduate student. Locked away for hours in her practice room (she calls it her "little box") she despaired that she was truly making a difference in her world. In her words:

I was in the midst of my strenuous degree program, practicing violin each day for hours in pursuit of better technique, improved musicality, and finally mastering that passage in Schubert's Violin Sonata. My time, my thoughts, my energy... everything revolved around my music studies. Over the course of several pretty intense weeks, I realized a dilemma: I had experienced a conviction that I was neglecting my call as a Christian to  proclaim the Gospel and build the Kingdom of God. How was I to share the Lord Jesus when every minute of my spare time was spent alone in the little box of my practice room? I took my predicament to a trusted mentor for some seasoned advice, and have continued to appreciate the simplicity of wisdom that was presented to me:

Well, could you imagine the world without beauty?

"Gosh, what does that have to do with my situation..." was the first thing that crossed my mind. But I sat with the question for a couple moments and thought of the multitude of times I had been struck with awe, delight, longing, even pain as I experienced that which is true beauty. Finally I responded, "No, I couldn't. That would be awful." The reply;

You are not simply practicing your instrument... this time you are spending right now is in preparation to share the beauty of music with the world.

In my words: Teaching can be a lonely profession. I know, that statement seems counter intuitive, but there are so many times when I sit with my thoughts during a lesson and question what I am doing:

• Am I making a difference?
• Is teaching music and ability and skill development worthwhile?
• Does anyone really care?

And it occurred to me that parents must go through a similar questioning phase:

• Does it matter whether my child really learns to play the violin (or the piano, or the guitar, etc.)?
• Am I doing the right thing by insisting that my child practice every day or listen to the recordings of the songs that my child is studying?
• Will my child really appreciate this hard work in the end?

As I sat with these questions and thought of the synchronous messages that I had received from my two friends, I realized that I had my answers, and I want to share these answers with any teachers or parents out there who also struggle with these sorts of questions.

YES!

The answer to all these questions is the same: YES! What you are doing will make a difference, is worthwhile, and matters to everyone and mostly to your child. Maybe not today, but yes, someday your child will appreciate this hard work. The world will also appreciate what you have spent time doing, because you are teaching one of God's most precious gifts -- a child -- how to make beauty and how to share it with the world.

So next time you find yourself questioning the value of what you do and struggling to keep on, remember this idea of making the world a more beautiful place. Recommit along with me to change the world -- one child, one family, one community at a time.

Happy Practicing!

----- Paula -----

To read Camille Brady's article "The Lovely Commission," click here.

To learn more about Camille, click here.

To learn more about Alongside Ministries, click here.

To learn more about Doni and Gail Lilo's ministry in Albania, click here and here.

 © 2016 by Paula E. Bird

Monday Morning Check In: Always Have an Answer

Written by Paula E. Bird ©2013

I find it important as a teacher to do more than educate my students about how to play a musical instrument. I also want to educate my students' parents about how to be better parents and home teachers to my students. My students and their parents will then become ambassadors of my teaching philosophy to the community. As we are all role models, we will hopefully influence others to espouse the same philosophy about the importance of music and music lessons on the road to growing a fine heart and developing talent and ability, which is the embodiment of Dr Suzuki's vision.

This scenario needs more time and attention. We should carefully consider our beliefs and attitudes in order to develop a system of statements and explanations about what we do and why. We want to spread the word about the importance of what we do and encourage others to join in our adventure.

Dr. Suzuki has written several statements that embody his philosophy about Talent Education. These statements include:

• Talent is not inborn.
• All children have talent.
• Man is the son of his environment.
• The environment determines the person.
• The fate of a child is in the hands of his parents.

What statements would you make to reflect your philosophy and beliefs? You may adapt or borrow someone else's statements, philosophy, and beliefs as your own, as I did with those statements that Dr. Suzuki made. You may also have other beliefs that reflect who you are and what you stand for. Perhaps you have not systematically thought through this subject area. I recall one terrific visiting university professor -- an excellent teacher -- and his encouragement that we students spend the time to develop our own "Bill of Rights." This teacher's name was Dean J. Spader (University of South Dakota), and he encouraged us to consider the principles and beliefs that we stood for and to write out statements that reflected the importance of our beliefs. In this way we would have statements of principle that would shape and guide our life's direction and would provide a framework to influence others in a positive way.

Here are a few questions to get you started as you think about what you stand for:

What is your purpose in life? What do you want to accomplish? If you have trouble with this one, think about what people might say about you in a eulogy. What do you want people to remember about you and your life?

What attitudes are important to you? Make a list and reflect on why these attitudes are an important part of your makeup.

What beliefs do you stand for? Write out some statements that reflect your beliefs so that you can readily share your philosophy with anyone who asks.

I regularly write and think about my beliefs and philosophy about teaching and life in general. I am always ready to explain the Suzuki philosophy of Talent Education to anyone who asks or whenever an opportunity arises to talk about it. That is because a long time ago, I wrote out an essay for myself about the Suzuki Method. Teachers who regularly attend Suzuki Teacher Training will have probably gone through a similar exercise. Over the years I have also written many letters, emails, and articles about the Suzuki philosophy. These tasks exercised my thinking about what I do and why. Because I spent time thinking and writing about my personal philosophy, I now have a series of philosophical statements that I can share with others at a moment's notice or whenever asked by someone about what I do. I have even written a lengthy letter to potential new parents. This letter shares my philosophy about teaching and music education and is part of my initial contact with a parent of a potential new student.

Take some time this week to consider your beliefs, attitudes, and purpose. How would you explain these things to others? Be prepared to tell others why it is that you do what you do.

Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. 1 Peter 3:15 (NIV).

Monday Morning Check In: How Basic Goodness Gives Life to Technique

Written by Paula E. Bird ©2013

"It simply makes no difference how good the rhetoric is or even how good the intentions are; if there is little or no trust, there is no foundation for permanent success. Only basic goodness gives life to technique." -- Dr. Stephen R. Covey (American educator and author, 1932-2012)

Dr. Stephen Covey wrote this in his 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. As I considered what to write about for this Monday Morning Check In, I recalled what Dr Suzuki wrote about music and character: "Beautiful tone, beautiful heart." Written in the Preface to Suzuki Violin Volume Two, Dr. Suzuki writes that "strings only sing the heart of the one who plays them. . . . because our entire personalities are revealed in the tone we produce."

"In human terms, if one lives in a self-centered, egotistical and immature way, one's life will be that of no joy and constant dissatisfaction. In other words, because of selfish needs, what one creates will be nothing but noise.

In contrast, when one lives by the principle of serving the hearts of others and learns to live for other people, one can enjoy a life of light, without discord, in harmony with others, and walk through life in pure joy. Similarly, the ultimate goal of music education, as well as the secret of violin playing is to guide others away from the world of self-centeredness to that of loving hearts in the service of others.

. . . The philosophy of violin playing is the same as that for life. Man, like the violin, can only sing the song of his own heart." -- Shinichi Suzuki (1898-1998, Japanese violinist, educator, and founder of Suzuki Method of Talent Education)

It was Dr. Covey's words about basic goodness giving life to technique that spurred my memory of Dr. Suzuki's words about the violin singing the song of the human heart. I believe that both men would agree with each other. What we are inside is revealed when we play the violin, or whenever we play music.

I teach a string techniques course at the university, in which I teach music education students how to teach string techniques. I can work a few minutes with one of the university students and tell you much about that student just by how the student approaches the instrument, by the type of sound that the student produces, and by the type and amount of energy level that the student produces while playing. I am sure that the students think I am some sort of gypsy fortune teller because I am able to accurately describe the student's personality style within minutes of teaching the student. I can guess at the types of hobbies the student might pursue, the state of the student's clothes closet at home, and what sort of social life the student maintains. I can accurately guess what types of grades a student usually gets in classes and how uptight the student is.

When I listen to student recitals, I can close my eyes and envision the sort of person that is playing. I can hear whether the person is smiling inside or hurting. I can feel the student's instrument and music vibrating in the air, and I can tell whether the student is trying to communicate with me on some level or whether the student is playing "at me" or for their own inward purposes.

I know of several teachers who routinely assign special homework to their students during the week, which consists of character building exercises along the lines of doing things for others. The idea here is that if the students frequently perform acts of goodness or kindness, then the students will get into the habit of doing good or being kind. I think this is a great idea because it makes students and parents aware of the exercise. Hopefully, when one person sees another doing such good things, the person will admire the effort and will strive to imitate the gesture. The one act could exponentially grow to include many, many others.

What such an exercise will also do is help to purify and mature the heart and spirit of the person doing the exercise. We all know that "going through the motions" will not a good person make, but doing so will go a long way toward building such a person in the end. We have heard the adage "fake it until you make it," and this catch-phrase may say it all. We may have to go through the motions and build the character habit until we finally reach the point that the motions and the good strong character are instilled in us. I believe that good character is just another ability that we can develop by overlearning.

What Drs. Covey and Suzuki are both telling us here is that good character is the foundation to good everything else. For Dr. Covey, good character provides the structural framework for good attitude, good relationships, good communication, and good leadership. For Dr. Suzuki, good character will be reflected in a person's music, which is the performer's personal expression of inward emotion, attitude, and sense of beauty. Without good character, something is "off" about the person, and no amount of technique will change that. We will be dazzled by technique, but we will not be moved by it. We might admire someone for their technical skill, but we will not be persuaded to move mountains.

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit. -- Aristotle*

This week, let us contemplate the words of both Dr. Covey and Dr. Suzuki and consider what habit of character we are building through our repeated actions. Let us strive for excellence, but more than that. Let us make the effort to repeatedly do the right things that strengthen our character. Let us reach out to the world and build connections that will uplift and encourage our society and world to grow beyond itself in a good way, in the right way.

Go forth and do good!
____________________________________________________
*Although this quote is attributed to Aristotle, it may actually come from Will Durant and his work "The Story of Philosophy," in which Durant summed up Aristotle's thoughts.

Monday Morning Check In: Why Are We Doing This?

Dr. Suzuki wanted to raise the next generation of children to be fine, noble human beings. He lived through World War II in Japan, and he saw up close the devastating effects his country's aggression initiated. The problems were not limited to Japan though. Dr. Suzuki also witnessed the savage tendencies of the world in general, and it was his life's passion to raise children who would become fine citizens and make the world a better place.

With the events of last Friday -- the shooting of innocent children and teachers at a Connecticut elementary school -- there is a need for all of us to pull together and bring Dr. Suzuki's vision to its fruition. Now more than ever, we can see how much the world needs to raise fine, noble human beings.

Dr. Suzuki's work was primarily aimed at teaching children, but his work also focused on teaching parents how to be more effective as parents and teachers. Dr. Suzuki's books showed parents how to be better parents, thereby helping parents to raise up their children to be better parents, and in turn these new parents would then raise up their own children to be better parents, and so forth.

In May 1999, one of my studio parents called me to talk about the parent’s struggles with her child during home practices. I wrote a brief newsletter article at the time for my studio on the topic of the important reason that I thought the studio parents and I should work through these issues to teach the children how to play violin. Looking back more closely at the date that I wrote this short article, I discovered that I had written it one month after the Columbine High School shooting of April 1999. Since I found myself thinking along the same lines this past weekend as I had over a decade ago, I thought I would reprint my article from that previous sad time, because my answer to the question of why we do this remains the same now as it was in 1999.

Why Am I Doing This?

(Printed in the May 1999 issue of the Bird Suzuki Studio Newsletter)

A parent called me recently to ask, “why am I doing this?” Now is a good time to remind ourselves what our goals were when we began the Suzuki program of music education.

In one of Jeanne Luedke’s newsletters, she stated that the Suzuki experience is not just about learning to play an instrument, but about developing the whole child. The whole child is the goal, and the study of the musical instrument is the means we use to work toward that goal. Along the way the child develops several abilities through music lessons:

(1) the ability to listen 

(2) the ability to observe and imitate 

(3) the ability to memorize 

(4) the ability to concentrate 

(5) the ability to perform 

(6) the ability to be disciplined 

(7) the ability to persevere, and 

(8) the abilities of the heart

At this time of our society’s history, it may be the abilities of the heart that are the most crucial reason that parents should persevere in music instruction for their child. Dr. Suzuki said that “a child raised on Bach from a young age will develop the noble soul, powerful personality and the religious sensitivity of Bach. The force that makes a child want to live and survive will absorb the traits of Bach’s music to a high degree.” (Ability Development From Age Zero, by Dr. Suzuki, Ability Development Associates, Inc., Athens, OH, p. 40).

We are working with our children and exposing them to the best and most noble music and art that our culture has produced in the hopes that we will guide their young hearts into developing into the best and most noble person that they can become, and we hope that by doing so our children will not grow up to build bombs and take guns to school to destroy other human beings.

That is why we are doing this. 

Go and give your children a hug.

Monday Morning Check In: the Finish Line

I ran a half marathon in San Antonio on Sunday. It involved getting up very early on two days so that I could pick up my race information and other racing paraphernalia on one day and return to run the race the next day. I finished the event and received my finisher's medal, which is quite neat. I have decided that I enjoy doing half marathons better than full marathons because the shorter distance run generally does not take up an entire day, although yesterday, the event certainly seemed as if it was a full day.

Finisher's Medal

One thing I enjoy while running these events is the direction that my mind takes during the run. There are the typical moments when my mind flits from one curious subject to another puzzling one. There are also those instances when my mind seems to think about nothing in particular and is more receptive to what my senses take in, such as the small flock of about 15 birds that kept changing direction overhead on one stretch of the race. I just watched without any specific thoughts about what I witnessed, other than the beauty of the coordinated movements.

Despite these fleeting moments of non-thinking, my thoughts do generally make observations, and sometimes quite a lot of them. Later I then take these thoughts and try to transform them into lessons that I learned from my experience. Please indulge me as I share some of my lessons from today, because I promise that I will connect them up with teaching and parenting.

There are a lot of people around. A lot of them. I do not know how many people were signed up and present to run this event, but there were enough to fill up 32 corrals or starting points. It took 40 minutes  after the start gun before my corral finally reached the starting line.

We are all different. As I looked around at everyone, I realized that we are all different. Really different. There were short ones, fat ones, skinny ones, tall ones, big ones, round ones, muscular ones, freckled ones, birth-marked ones, tattooed ones, young ones, old ones, bald ones -- well, you get the idea. We had so many differences between us. I entertained myself during the hour and a half wait before my group began running by watching the people around me.

We share many things in common. While I noted that there are a lot of people and that we were all different, I also had the presence of mind to note how many things we all shared in common. I cannot say that we completely shared these things all together. It was more like a wall map with straight pins pushed into the map to represent all the people, and strings being tied here and there between the people to represent common connections between them.

Some of us wore the same brand of shoes or clothing, while others shared a different sense of fashion with another group of runners. There was an Elvis impersonator (a bad one, and I think he garnered himself some television attention), a Mad Hatter, and several tutus. Some preferred to walk most of the distance, some to run, and some to do a combination of both. Some talked and walked in smaller groups, while some of us preferred to concentrate more on a solitary pursuit. Some of us shared the same training plans, and some of us shared the same race strategy. Some of us suffered from the heat of the warm and humid day, and others seemed to do just fine. I spent most of the race making all of these observations, and I was never at a loss for thinking up new ones.

We share a common purpose. Despite all of these differences and similarities, we did all share one common purpose, and that was to get to the finish line. We shared the same activity, although we approached it and performed it in different ways.

Now, let me relate that to teaching and partnering with our students' parents. There are many of us around. There is never a shortage of parents around, and there are plenty of teachers available, especially with the handiness of the Internet and Skype. We are all different though. We are unique in our teaching styles, learning styles, personality styles, approach to problem solving, emotional background, and desire to learn. And yet, there are many commonalities between us. Some of us have shared many of these various traits with each other, although not all of them.

As a teacher with a great deal of experience, I have to remind myself periodically that one size does not fit all, and that there will be times when my great ideas do not work for a student. These moments are great puzzles for me, especially when my ideas work for 99 other students except for this one student who stands before me. These are the moments when my teaching and analytical skills are honed. These are the moments when I make new discoveries about learning, about the Suzuki repertoire, about parenting, and about teaching.

Sometimes this period of time in the learning-teaching process can be quite frustrating and puzzling. This is when I remind myself that despite our differences and commonalities, which do not appear to be working at the moment, there is something bigger and more global that will see us through to success.

We share a common purpose.

My studio parents and I share the same common purpose, and that is my teaching philosophy that all children can learn, that talent is not inborn, and that parents are the most important influence in their children's lives and have the most impact on their children's development, motivation, and desire to learn. We are all different in our pace and approach to learning, but we are all on the same road to the ultimate goal: to grow the child into a fine human being with a good heart. This is the finish line in my studio.

Yesterday, as I ran (or walked) alongside all the other runners in the San Antonio Rock 'n Roll Half and Full Marathons, I celebrated the great number of us who shared a common purpose, and that was to reach the finish line. Thanks to all my friends who supported me on this latest running journey.

This week, consider what your "finish line" is. Do you have a stated teaching or parenting philosophy? Take a few moments to write out this statement in one sentence. Post this philosophical statement in a prominent place where you will view it daily.

Would you be willing to share your philosophy in the comments below? Consider visiting the Teach Suzuki Facebook page and liking us.

Monday Morning Check In: The Power of the Overlay (aka The Perfect Day)

I remember a discussion in teacher training with Ronda Cole about how to determine what areas to work on when teaching a student. I believe the question was, “How do you decide where to start when a student comes to you at institute?” I want to share Ronda’s answer with you, as I recall it.

When Ronda works with a student, she pictures the student before her with an overlay of the student playing the Tchaikovsky violin concerto. Ronda then explained that she would keep that overlay in her mind as she worked with the student. Her goal was to bring the student in line with the Tchaikovsky concerto overlay. Similar to training a bonsai tree, Ronda would nip a little here, pinch something there, nudge an idea forward, and place some strictures to guide growth in a particular direction.

I think of the overlay as a transparency, like the ones our elementary school teachers used on the overhead projectors. Our teachers' transparencies were -- well -- transparent, with printed or handwritten notes on them, and the teacher would write additional notes during class. I think of an overlay in the context of this article as an enhanced transparency that has a picture of the student playing the Tchaikovsky concerto but also allows us to view the student as he or she is actually playing the concerto, sort of like a movie embedded in the transparency. [Isn’t it marvelous how technology has changed our vocabulary and view of things? Who would have used the words “embedded” or “enhanced transparency” ten years ago?)

This overlay idea is quite powerful and a very useful tool for parents and teachers for many reasons. First, the overlay is the picture of a long-term goal; it provides an overall vision that can guide teaching and learning. Many folks forget that a long-term vision is the most important part of any endeavor. If we do not know where we want to go, then we might head off in the wrong direction. Second, the overlay idea can be an important measurement tool. We can measure our progress from one point to another by referring to our overlay to see how for we have come or to show us where we have drifted off course.

The Tchaikovsky violin concerto is an ending to a very long spectrum of performance overlay possibilities. There are other overlays that a teacher or parent could use as a reference point. For example, when I begin a student, I use the Twinkle Variations overlay in my mind, and I nudge, prod, and discipline my student in the direction of learning how to play the Twinkle Variations like my overlay. Similarly, I have overlays in my mind for each song, for each book graduation, and for recitals.

Beyond the music education scenario, we can use the overlay idea to create our perfect day, our perfect year, or our perfect life. A crucial part of successful goal setting is to consider long-term goals, and an overlay can be this opportunity. Whenever I encounter a frustrating day or finish a crazy week of “too much to do and not enough time to really savor what I did,” I remind myself about the power of the overlay. I ask myself, How would my perfect day have looked? What would the perfect week have looked like for me? Then I create the overlay picture in my head and consider where I needed to tweak, nudge, and apply discipline to recreate my life and my world to more closely resemble the perfect overlay.

I am a big proponent of reflection time. I am not referring to meditation when I use the word reflection. I use the word reflection to mean active thinking. For me, active thinking involves either talking aloud (to myself or someone else) or writing my thoughts down. I generally rely on the writing technique so that I have a record of my ideas and issues. I find that many problems resolve themselves once I have committed them to the written word and placed them on the page. I am blessed with some time every day in which to think about how things are going in my life. If I am fortunate, I will have a little time to reflect while I drink my morning coffee; I use my morning pages to digest my current issues if I have “coffee time.” I also have another daily reflection time: when I make my rounds to feed the farm animals (4 chickens, 4 donkeys, 1 horse, 10 alpacas, 3 cats, 8 dogs, and currently 3 puppies). Walking outside in natural surroundings will sometimes generate unusual directions and insights in my thinking. My current trick is to find a way to record my outdoor thoughts so that I can recall them later (where does one carry the iPhone for voice memos and pictures when walking around the ranch?). In the meantime, I have gotten into the habit of summarizing my thoughts into a short jingle or acronym of no more than 5 letters.

This is a busy time of year for me, as it is for most teachers and parents. School is winding down, and there are spring recital programs to prepare and present. Our schedule starts to rev up to a much higher idle speed than we have been accustomed to. We lose our vision and forget to check in with our goal compass. Now is the time to turn to the power of the overlay to help us recreate the perfect day where we work to create a life that provides satisfaction and allows us to fulfill our purpose.

Monday Morning Check In: Teaching and Purpose

I am blessed in my line of work to have many colleagues who are involved in the education field at various institutions besides my own. I enjoy my discussions and the free exchange of ideas between us. Recently, however, I had a conversation that has stuck to me like a limpet. I would like to share it with you, along with a few of my own thoughts.

The teacher was younger and assigned to teach theory classes, and the classes were filled to capacity, which I know can lead to issues of effective class management. So, I was interested to hear this teacher's ideas about methods to streamline the grading, testing, and attendance taking process.

This teacher was laughing, almost gleeful when describing how the class syllabus was set up to act as a barrier to most student problems. I had to admire this teacher's cleverness in setting up an online assessment test to determine whether the student had read the syllabus. The student could take the exam as many times as needed until the student passed the assessment. Thus, the teacher then had proof that the student had indeed read the syllabus and arguably was familiar then with the syllabus provisions regarding attendance, homework assignments, excused (and unexcused) absences, and grading policy. I walked away from that conversation clearly aware that this teacher was almost giddy about how she had set up her syllabus program to prevent students from being able to offer up any conceivable excuse about anything.

The part of the conversation that puzzled me was the teacher's gleeful, cheerful attitude when describing the syllabus. I clearly got the picture that this teacher thought of the classroom situation as a "me against them." Along with that, the teacher exercised a very rigid approach to situations and very seldom permitted any room for emergencies or situations that we can only refer to as "life happens." For example, although I allow plenty of time to get to places on time (I set my clocks ahead), I cannot predict when I will be thwarted from my punctuality by an unexpected train or unavailable parking situation.

At this point, let me throw out three words here: teaching, equity, and discretion. Over my vast years of teaching experience and living in the world generally, I have come to a comfortable coexistence with these three words, well, concepts actually. Each word represents more than just a simple definition. Each word leads to richer discussions:

• "Teaching" leads to the ability to learn or at least it should in my opinion. When I teach my students, my purpose is to help my students learn. I will stand by this as my top priority as a teacher. Granted there are many lessons we teachers impart to our students besides the obvious lessons of our subject area. I advise us to take care that we monitor our motivation behind each "lesson" we seek to teach.

• "Equity" leads to the ability to structure remedies to fit the circumstances of the situation. The syllabus rules are not to be wielded about like some sort of rigid club in a game of student whack-a-mole. There are situations in life when the rules and regulations we previously set up do not apply, or at least they do not apply in a satisfying manner. There are times when the results of our rigid rules and laws offend our sense of justice and fairness. That is when the concept of equity steps in and allows us to create a solution that will fit the situation. 

• "Discretion" leads to the power to exercise compassion.

Few issues are black and white. One of the biggest lessons I have learned during my stay here on this planet is that there is a very large gray area to explore. Even in the field of music there are few absolutes. Take for example, rubato and musical expression.

During my conversation with the teacher, I wondered what was the teacher's real motivation and purpose. Was it to teach? I ask this because what I heard in the tone of voice and saw in the smile on the teacher's face were more like the giddiness and glee of having the power to thwart and stymie the students. I wondered if the teacher had ever experienced or would ever experience the joy and energizing motivation that comes from embracing the purpose of teaching students so that they learn.

Yes, I know, there is probably more to the story, and indeed there is. I also know more to this story, which is why this conversation is still haunting me a week later. As it happens, while I was having this conversation with the teacher, a student that I know well was vainly trying to get to school in time to meet with this teacher. Unfortunately, the student failed, and 10 minutes later was sobbing in my office. Despite the exam period lasting over several days and despite the fact that there were many open slots still available to fit the student in, this teacher opted to adhere to the syllabus proscription about tardiness. The student was dead in the water, and I could not interfere. What was the lesson this student learned? Not to be late? Gosh, I think the student always knew that. To expect a train? A flat tire? An alarm that went off but wasn't heard? No, I think this student learned a different message, and that saddens me.

As I consoled the student, my thought was: I hope that the next time the teacher is speeding just a little to get to an appointment on time, and a policeman stops to give a speeding ticket, that the teacher will reflect on the lesson about teaching, equity, and discretion when the policeman decides to give a warning instead of a ticket.