Old people. I like them. I know that a lot of people like babies. To me a baby hasn't done much but show up, but an old person has proved that he/she has some chutzpah and good luck. Their very existence makes me hopeful.
Though today is still a holiday, we did do some stuff. My favorite thing was getting to take my kids to an event that I thoroughly enjoyed several times last year while they were in school.
On Tuesdays at noon there is a free jazz concert at the Bruno Walter Auditorium, a part of the Lincoln Center public library. The Gotham Jazzmen.
It's not just any jazz performance mimicking Louis Armstrong; referencing Eubie Blake. The musicians are musicians. And they got that way by being musicians for a looooong time. There are no music stands; there is no sheet music. Just five gentlemen who must have more music retrievable in their heads than I've ever even heard. They say jokes on stage that only they, and the hardcore jazz aficionados in the audience, understand ("We'll do it in eight. Hahaha. We'll see how this goes...").
The kids brought their clipboards and worked on some math and drew some pictures. The Girl started her Christmas list. They could have fallen asleep and I would not have cared. I'm convinced that the quality and spirit of the music was so strong that we were absorbing it through our pores. Further, the personalities on the stage caught their attention enough -- they frequently looked up during the jokes ("C? You can't start this one in C! Well... there's always a first... A one, and a two, and a three..."). We are pretty far removed from the world of such musical understanding, but at least my kids know that that world is out there. And impressive, fun, brilliant worlds are not just inhabited by the young and the beautiful.
Listening to the music today my mind started drifting...
Several years ago my grandma and her friend -- both retired at the time -- went to the local public elementary school and volunteered their services. Constantly hearing about the crushing needs of our school system they thought that the red carpet would surely be unrolled, and small, yet appropriately appreciative little hands would line up along the sides of that carpet, hold their pencils aloft and create a tunnel for these sisters of mercy to walk through...
The gals dressed sharp, but made sure to wear comfortable shoes, for they were fully prepared to do some hustling...
They were sent home faster than a Ziploc with pee clothes. The principal explained that it was too complicated to have volunteers in the school.
(Sister, complicated is going to be when you want to be pushed into the square of sunlight someday and you can't figure out why the bulk of society doesn't give a wrinkled gnat's arse about you.)
Alright, I mused as the cornet trilled, you can't have senior citizens in the school because a) they could be pedophiles b) they are unreliable -- they get sick, they fall down, they get lost in Wheel of Fortune reruns... and c) I couldn't think of another reason. Fine -- they can't put a sensibly-shoed foot in the classroom, but what about our kids getting some old people time by scheduling trips to an assisted living home? The residents that want to participate could gather in a specific place and the children and the seniors could share talents -- sing, or read, or chat... The kids could interview them and write some essays or biographies. They could hold their hands.
Duh -- sorry. Slipped my mind. By the time the kids are mature enough for something that requires this level of sensitivity their field trips need to align with the curriculum. And the curriculum needs to align with the core standards. And the core standards are what they are going to be tested on. And that is the formula that is going to make them great citizens and humans with depth.
So today I played out a dream about adding more humanity to the public school experience while "A Kiss to Build a Dream On" was passing over some piano wire.
I looked around the room at the performers (very active "senior citizens") and the audience (some quite elderly), and felt crazy grateful that my little family was there.
