Remembering how to believe the best

I just returned from helping to facilitate an annual arts conference. We sang, danced, banged drums, read music, and learned how to implement it into the classroom. I have had the privilege of teaching with several wonderful ladies for seven summers now. But I realized quickly that I had grown uncomfortable with something.....praise. They were so thrilled to see me...to hear ideas. So quick to recognize enthusiasm and effectiveness. One of them sat for a few moments in my first session and hugged me as she detailed the things she saw me doing. At the end of the day as we read the participant comment/evaluation forms, I read comments in dozens of styles of handwriting that said, "music was my favorite today," "I will be able to use the note reading lesson in my math classes," "The music facilitator was enthusiastic and knowledgeable." In many ways it looked light a foreign language that what vaguely familiar but not quite intelligible.

Participants stopped during lunch and in the hallways to ask questions, to clarify web sites I had shared with them, to ask me if I might come to their school to share with their faculty. They asked if I had a blog or web site bout music integration they could explore (note to self - work on that) Then a former colleague came to share with our organization. He was singing my praises to the ladies I work with and the participants, even referencing me in the remarks he made to the whole group.

And then, the most precious and sometimes the toughest audience of all...the children. It was like a tall class of cool water on a long hot day. I have not taught a group of children since May 26. It was time! They laughed, and danced and occasionally just couldn't contain themselves, though thankfully there were no casualties. They sang and danced and performed original lyrics and original poetry. Took Carl the puppet along for the ride.

All in all, the women and men who had spent 3 days with me and/or seven years with me were quite emphatic about my essential role in their organization. I was a success....with no buts.

So why would this make me so uncomfortable? Because it was so contrary to what I have learned to experience. So opposed to what heard when I listened very closely and invisibly, when I watch looks back and forth when a dear 4th grader stumbled over a line...one line out of dozens of lines. The trust in my competence, my creativity, and my honesty I experienced this week was in juxtaposition to the unsettling feeling that somewhere in my life a clock was counting down. But in the end...I remembered. And I believed the best. I believed those teachers and ladies and children when they I was creative. When they say I was effective. When they said I was relevant and had expertise and helped them to become braver teachers. They said it with great specificity and sincerity. And I believed them. I believed again what I am.

There is s song from the Musical rent, that issues a challenge. It is a challenge I take up within myself and those around me. It does have one harsh word, but it makes the point well:

Take me for what I am
Who I was meant to be
And if you give a damn
Take me, baby, or leave me.