I have been writing a few of what I am calling "Song Stories" -- stories that led to or informed a song of mine. The inspiration came from an invitation to appear on True Tales Radio - WSCA Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Here's my song story for August 26, 2014. The theme was "school".
“Looking Up To My Tiny Teacher” by Craig Werth
One measurement of my schooling would be the collective
weight of teacher influence. Good, Bad and Ugly teachers chained together over my
lifetime. The good ones, well... let’s save them for last. The bad ones nearly always meant well. Let’s say a few
were over their heads and scrambling for survial themselves. Even as a child I
could sometimes sense their limitations and adjust my expectations.The ugly ones I will say a little more about. Thankfully,
there were just two or three of those. They had a meanness to them, They were,
no doubt, deeply wounded, and their approach to coping included inflicting
damage upon tiny hearts and minds. Mr. Black was one. He taught 8th grade chemistry. One of his lesson plans included delivering electric shocks to
each student with a tesla coil. The tesla coil looked like an overly thick
cordless screwdriver. It shot a painful blue stream to your hand or any part of
you touching the metal frame of your chair when Mr. Black surprised you with it
-- just for educational purposes. One terrified boy ahead of me in line wet his
pants waiting for our first tesla lesson. I suppose one could say that Mr.
Black was teaching about the dangers of electricity, but I saw his eyes -- and
I knew his lessons came from a place of ugliness. Even in the sixties, how this
practice survived in the relative open is a twisted mystery, but it was
something he was known for. I mention him here, because he is most deserving of
the exposure.Some other ugly ones told students venemously THAT they
were NOT and NEVER WOULD BE good at... fill-in-the-blank -- I had just a little
of that, but I was somehow innoculated against its lasting effects. I’ve met
hundreds of people who were not immune, and were closed down by them.But enough with the ugly. Let’s get to the GOOD ones. and I’ve had mostly good
ones... including Mrs. Judith Rothberg (5th Grade), who was sometimes
frighteningly tough but clearly respectful, fair and skilled. Mr. Pete Palen (high school English) who
had hope and great expectations for us all and lifted us as high as he could
every day, Mr. Tucker (high school chorus) who kindled my passion for music,
Virginia “Jidge” Griewank – an assistant dean of students at the University of
NH, a teacher/mentor -- our college mother and brilliant life coach. To name just
a few of the impressive majority. As any teacher worth her apple knows, the very best
teachers are open to learning from their students. One of my favorite teachers of all time started giving
me lessons in November of 1984 and he’s still guiding a big slice of my
education today. He is also a student of mine, and half his DNA came from yours
truly. Benjamin Allen Werth, through the often unsettling experiment, and the profound
educational adventure that is parenthood, has been one of my greatest teachers.
I will try to give a few examples of lessons from his comprehensive program of
brilliant instruction.
Example A)Be Fully Present. Express yourself kindly but
unabashedly.Some of my guidance in his direction was tainted with my
neurotic anxiety. Don’t do this or you might offend people, don’t do that
because it draws too much attention, people won’t like it if you... At the age
of 5, one day, in response to a parental lesson comprised of such cautions, he
turned to me and said, “Poppy – sometimes you think too hard.” And so he was
the first to teach me about one of my most prevalent and self-destructive
tendencies.
Example B)
Spotlight the accomplishments of others, which may well lift
the spirits of all within earshot One day I got little Ben from daycare and took him to NH
Public television to pick up his mom Liz from her long day of work there. Upon
arrival I visited the restroom with him as we both had some urgency after our
own hectic days. We finished business and entered Liz’s workspace, totally
filled with a bustling team of staff members working on a pledge drive. To my shock, Ben imediately silenced
the entire workplace with a loud and clear proclamation. With great pride and
delight he shouted, “My Dad did a HUGE Poop!” The faces of grim concentration
transformed with the delight at this good news and of this boy’s pride in his
daddy’s grand achievement. Other than mine, spirits lifted, all around.
Example C)Do What You Need To Do With As Much Courage As You Can
Muster, Turning toward the great challenge and not away from it, as in many cases
this will serve you better in the long run. I grew up rather sheltered from the sadder sides of life
or so was the attempt. With kindly intention, we were held back from funerals
and gravely ill relatives, to protect us from the sad and scary. As you well
know, the cost of this strategy can be deep and longlasting... Ben had a
different approach. When his best friend Tony was diagnosed with a rare and
aggressive form of cancer at age 11, Ben was his nearly constant companion. He
became the only friend Tony’s parents allowed in regularly over time The day
came when we learned that treatments weren’t working Tony was not going to live
much longer. When -- On a car ride -- I told Ben this news, his reaction was
immediate. “I Have to go see him.” And so he did. And he saw him all the way
through to the end. His courage is humbling to me to this day. And his attitude
about life and death is quite healthy relative to mine because of his
experience. Yes – as parents we must have helped set him up for this approach,
but trust me when I say that he deserves full credit for some of the very tough
choices he made. And this is a lesson I will need to revisit throughout my life.
Example D) Sieze and celebrate happiness wherever you
can find it, or make it for yourself Ben learned to ride a two-wheeled bicycle in a parking
lot in Durham when he was six years old. It was a magical thing to see him
struggle and then “get it” circling round and round with a grin nearly as wide
as his handlebars. In the midst of his magic first ride, he said four words
that I will always remember the sound of – “It’s a Free Life”. The echo of this
today reminds me that we have choice – choice to be free, to express and
create– we’re free to choose to be happy in tiny spaces and moments in the
midst of these often heavy lives of ours. I truly would love to go on, but this is one of my
song-stories. By definition it must end with the narrative’s companion song. My
tiny teacher, Ben, inspired this one nearly thirty ago:
(I sang the following song on the radio show)
"Benjamin Allen" by Craig Werth, 1986, New Durham, NH
Benjamin Allen is busy today, he's got a newspaper in his hand,
tearing a front-page disturbance awaynow he's eating the classified ads,
so easy to pass too quickly, Ben teaches me to take it slow --
out of the mouths of babes, you know.
Benjamin Allen is smiling away,he's got a secret in his tiny hand,
a Cheerio he displaced yesterday, a diamond to this tiny man,
just when I'd ceased to believe in magic,he's putting on quite a show,
out of the mouths of babes, you know.
Benjamin Allen is sleeping away, through the middle of a lonely night,
softly I kiss him, "don't wake him" I say, but I'm hoping that I just might,
any spaces in me left empty, he's filling up as he grows,
out of the mouths of babes, you know.
Benjamin Allen is talking away,with words I'd never heard before,
though I'm not sure I caught everything that he said,
I could not agree with him more, he says the answers that you've been seeking,
are ones you already know,
out of the mouths of babes.
