Gabriel's Message

I am feeling drawn this morning to listen to Gabriel's Message over and over again. It is a Basque carol by Sabine Baring-Gould (1834-1294) that is loosely based on the Magnificat of Mary found in Luke 1:46-55 and the Christmas story of Luke 2. I don't really think it is the text particularly that is moving me as much as the simplicity of the harmonics. The simple beauty of the polyphony as well as the strophic nature of the piece. As I come down from the rush of getting through the first four months of the school year and look toward the upcoming break, I think it is important that I slow down. This song provides that slowing presence for me.

I think that God provides us winter so that we are forced to slow down. It is highly important at this time of year that we do that to simple sit in wonder at the mystery he gave to us in the form of Jesus Christ.

The Choir of Winchester Cathedral
Sting's Version
Jars of Clay version

Text:

1. The angel Gabriel from heaven came
His wings as drifted snow his eyes as flame
"All hail" said he "thou lowly maiden Mary,
Most highly favored lady," Gloria!

2. "For know a blessed mother thou shalt be,
All generations laud and honor thee,
Thy Son shall be Emanuel, by seers foretold
Most highly favored lady," Gloria!

3. Then gentle Mary meekly bowed her head
"To me be as it pleaseth God," she said,
"My soul shall laud and magnify his holy name."
Most highly favored lady. Gloria!

4. Of her, Emanuel, the Christ was born
In Bethlehem, all on a Christmas morn
And Christian folk throughout the world will ever say:
"Most highly favored lady," Gloria!

after all that hard work, who will know?

Tomorrow is the big Christmas concert at school. My students in grades K-5 have been practicing for six weeks to prepare two songs per group (they are broken into four groups). They have attained a variety of musical objectives along this journey from as small as identifying the genre of spiritual and the background of a song to learning the song from scratch by reading the rhythms and melody off the staff (grade 2!!). They have been working very hard to build strong, in-tune singing voices. They have played instruments as simple as a chord bordun and as difficult as a syncopated pattern. They have listened, reflected, compared and contrasted. They have viewed other versions of their piece on youtube and have listened to other versions without visuals. The children have gone up and down choral risers for two weeks. And now, it is time.

Music programs, for me, are a reflection of the learning that has occurred in the music classroom, not merely standing up and singing pretty songs. Each song has a meaning that the children delve into from both a theoretical and philosophical standpoint. (For example, when singing Rise Up, Shepherd, and Follow-how do we as the "angels" in Luke 2 convince these shepherds to leave their precious sheep and go see a baby, even if it is the Saviour!)

However, as we approach the concert day, I fear not of the success of the performance. I know our children are prepared and will be successful in a variety of ways. They will attain success by having learned so many things and by demonstrating the courage to stand before their peers and elders and performing. I will be incredibly proud, I already am. But my fears lay deeply in the response to our performance. There are many out there who have expectations for performance that I do not understand. Many whom will not truly understand all of the things our children have gained in the preparation process. Many whom will see the parts rather than the whole. And many whom will leave lovely "suggestions" in my inbox before Christmas break. It is this response that gives me anxiety and keeps me from truly enjoying my student's success.

A dear friend said, "just tell them everything you told me" when I explained my anxiety and my joy of my students learning. I think I am a place where I feel comfortable addressing unfounded or uneducated criticism. I believe that I can share with these critics what has been learned while at the same time respecting their opinions and expectations, however misguided. I know that in the end, all that matters is that the children feel they have had a positive experience.

But in the meantime, the next 24 hours will be only slightly frought with nerves...

game day player

Yesterday, after a week off of all exercise due to illness, I ran the Celtic Solstice 5 miler in Druid Lake Park. I approached this race with trepidation and anticipation. Trepidation, in that I knew I was quite under-trained. Anticipation, in the hopes that this under-training would provide fresh and fast legs. I also presented this race to myself as a coin flip; do well and keep running, do poorly and reassess the possibility of "retirement". Well, someone out there wants me to keep running because it was a great day. Yes, the course is incredibly forgiving; flat after mile 1 with a huge downhill finish, but I was able to be a game day player. I was able to run a consistent pace for 5 miles with negative splits (again, downhill finish), and I was able to fight through the gunk in my chest and the side stitches that started at mile 3 and get through the race in a respectable time. It was not the fastest in the field or the slowest, but it was a validation. A validation that despite my waist size, inconsistent training, terrible fall, and wonky gait that I am supposed to do this running thing. It was a validation that while I am not the fastest in my small circle of running "people", I am also not the slowest. This race, however, like many that I have run in my short running life of five years, is a bit of a carrot. It dangles in front of me and says, "look what you can do when you sit on your rear and eat donuts! What could you do if you actually put effort into it?" So now I as the holidays draw closer and the holiday cheerful food sits before me on a regular basis, I ponder my options. For the rest of today, I bask in the glow of being a game day player, despite a month of inconsistency.

Celtic Solstice 5 miler. 37:29 (7:50, 7:30, 7:30, 7:30, 6:55) Woo Hoo!

the human petri dish

I love my job. I love teaching children about music. Leading them to new experiences with singing, playing instruments, and epiphany's while listening to great works...it is thrilling and soul feeding.

However, when a teacher is sick, particularly this teacher 5 days away from the big holiday concert, there is no respite. For teachers, taking the time to obtain a substitute and having to write lessons plans when ill makes the illness all that much worse.

Today just happened to be one of those days. I was really lucky that my kids were dreams and focused really hard while I struggled with a negative reaction to my cold/cough remedy and still had the cold....gosh, I'm lucky.

It's funny. In the 28 months I worked away from a school environment, I was sick one time. Literally, three weeks before I left San Diego, I was sick for three days, one time. Alas, working in the human petri dish that is any school and you are bound to contract all kinds of lovely things. Our current school epidemic has run its course through 3rd and 5th grade, both of which I teach! We wash, we sanitize, we drink water, and we use kleenex and lysol, but what are we to do, it is part of the joy of our jobs. No, really, the red noses and bleery eyes of children with colds just make them all that more endearing. And, being the teacher of elementary children, they are incredibly empathetic to their sick teachers.

So yes, it is frustrating going to school sick and fighting through to be engaging, inspiring, and caring when all you want to do is go under the covers, but seeing the smiling faces and hearing them sing their hearts out made it worth it.

No we are not crazy, we are determined

It was cold. I purposely did not turn on the tv to see how cold because I knew it would deter me. I arose at 4:30 am, layered up in wicking yet supposedly warm clothes and headed to MM's for our run. We made an agreement that I would run the first 12 of her 18 miles this morning before work...yes, before work. So we ran two loops and completed 12.5 miles in 1 hour and 59 minutes. Most of me was cold most of the time, but my feet, thanks to my new smartwool socks, were toasty. The rest of me is still recovering from the cold 12 hours later. Why you ask? Oh yes, because it was 22 degrees with snow and ice on the ground. Crazy? Maybe a little, but man did my endorphins run all day.

It felt great and validated why I love running long distances, plus, catching up with my pal makes 12 miles go by pretty fast. (Or if could be she is just an awesome pacer) either way, it was great.

End of an Era?

I write from my red chair tonight contemplating where I shall go this year (well, technically next) with my running/athletic life. This summer/fall training and racing season behind me and one full month past since my 2nd marathon, I find myself completely uninterested at the prospect of another round of training. Perhaps this is the post-marathon slump, but after watching my PR plummet by over 20 minutes this season, I wonder why am I still doing this?

I feel as though I have disappointed everyone who knows me with my poor performances. I feel as though all those with whom I train have thoroughly surpassed my ability and while they challenge me; I feel I bring them down or prevent them from doing their best.

I am at a crossroads where I need to make commitments to:
A. Run another marathon and run my tail off to bring my decent times back?
B. Run a marathon for fun (as NYC was) and just enjoy the training?
C. Just continue running for fitness and overall health?
D. Bag the distance thing and stick to sprint triathlons?

I do not want this to be the end of five years of running, but I need some kind of fresh start.

pajamas inside out

I do believe that I am not the only teacher (or kid) in the DC metro area that will be wearing her pj's on inside out tonight. The day-long snow was Rockwell-esque as I gazed outside my 2nd floor window out to the trees and observed our youngest children, just age 5, frolicking out in the first snowfall.

It was cold, dismissal duty miserably wet, and the drive home rough, but as I saw my dog rejoicing in the four inches of white powder in the backyard, all was made well again.

Hope the cocoa makings are in the pantry and that channel 4 gives me good news tomorrow.