What does love look like in your classroom?

Happiest of days, amazing snackers!

My dad was a true introvert. When I first started playing in band, (on his instrument) in elementary school, on concert nights, it was his opinion I valued the most. Mom, not an introvert, was effusive, of course. Dad, on the other hand, said, "It was good." "Good??! That's it?", my 9-year-old brain thought. And that's how it went. He'd say, "it was good", and my ears heard "you're not really making progress". Fast forward to the relatively recent past. I jokingly mentioned this to him, and he seemed genuinely hurt by it. In that instant, I realized I had my love languages crossed. My dad had given me a horn (a nice one!), countless hours of unpaid private instruction, and, most importantly, he was PRESENT for every concert. I had mistaken his quiet way with words, and, in so doing, lost sight of the countless ways he had supported, nurtured...LOVED...me as a musician. After I became a music teacher, he continued to get professional musicians to populate the pit orchestras of my musicals for free. He also coached and mentored kids in my bands for nearly a decade, including virtually during COVID.

Friends, trust me when I say that you're doing way more than you realize, every day. 💙