Sunday, September 11, 2022

And We Still Remember

I don't post here too often these days (though I plan on going back and filling in a few holes when I can), but I'll never neglect to post this on this day:

Where were you when you heard the news? (And it's odd to think that literally all of my public school students--and many of my college students--would have to say "not yet born." The current class of college juniors, including my oldest nephew, were infants at the time.)

Here's my story: I was on a break from teaching, like every Tuesday, and actually spent the time of the attacks in blissful ignorance at a nearby Starbucks. I had CD's on in my car instead of the radio, so I totally missed the news on both the way over and the way back. I did hear someone listening to a radio on the Starbucks patio and they were talking about "the second plane," but it didn't register with me at all. (It amazed me later that nobody walked inside and told us about it.)

When I got back to the school, the flute teacher stopped me in the hallway and asked me if all my students were being pulled out of school (evidently hers were). I said, "No, why?" and she told me what had happened. I spent the rest of the day like everyone else, in shocked, depressed amazement, catching the news when I could. There I was, not even two weeks into being a homeowner, and the world suddenly felt so different. It added to the pall cast over everything when I found out that the sister of a girl I graduated from high school with was on Flight 93, the one that crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. (I know that there have been quite a few lists of names read aloud today, so let me share hers: Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas. May she rest in peace...)

The whole thing felt so surreal; how could anyone hate us that much? The concept of the suicide hijacking was unprecedented as well (before that, hijackers just usually wanted to go to Cuba, and that's why airline personnel were taught to cooperate with them rather than try to subdue them).

I know there are still terrorist plots being hatched, and people capable of carrying them out...but I hope nothing like this ever happens on U.S. soil again. Or anywhere, for that matter.

As I often say on this day, I hope nobody tires of talking about this every once in a while, because if we stop talking, we might forget, and this is a day that need not be forgotten anytime soon.

Wednesday, September 07, 2022

Kids Say the Darnedest Things When They Name Their Instruments


Today, my top middle school tenor player got his horn back from the shop. The director also informed me that the kid had named his good horn “Rupert,” which I don’t think he had ever told me.
ME: So you named your horn Rupert, huh?
KID: I did! 
(Brief explanation of why, which isn’t germane to this story, followed)
ME: So did your temporary horn have a name too?
KID: Yes…it’s Barbara.
ME: Why’s that?
KID: The horn is really old, so I was looking for an old person name for it.
ME: I’ll be sure and tell my mom you said that.
KID: *looks embarrassed*
ME: Don’t worry, I won’t actually tell her.
KID: Thank you.