THANK YOU for all your kind, sweet comments yesterday. Still feeling blue about the situation but realising that I cannot dwell in the what ifs and the guilt and anger I feel for myself is not constructive- I must accept that I have to do what I can in the here and now and be what I should have been all these years! I've already begun and will try to continue! Without sounding too cryptic! Thank you for your friendship!
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I have had the great misfortune to have to make 31 cheerleading pom poms this week. I've only made 8 so far and I really really dislike the whole process! As I've recently mentioned, I am taking my choir to sing in our local borough's choral festival next week. The pom poms are for this. This is a biennual festival and I am hugely excited about it because it has been a part of my life for 22 years at least.
I grew up in the borough where I teach as did my sister (obviously) and her being some years older than me, she took part in it as a child in year 6, singing with the junior choirs. I went to watch it with my family and vowed that I wanted to do the same. I had already been in church choirs for 5 years of my life and had sat through choir practices as a 5 year old, so it was a no-brainer.
In year 6 (aged 11), I was lucky enough to go with my school choir (names were picked out of the hat as places were, and still are, limited) and I still remember the awe of performing at the Royal Albert Hall for the first time! Staring up at the huge mushrooms on the ceiling (to make sound better), watching the senior pupils perform a Mexican wave, singing Santa Lucia, Jerusalem, the National Anthem, playing a funky recorder piece. And the best bit- waving those pom-poms to Entry of the gladiators. We had 2 different colours and they were waved in a coordinated routine. And my Mum, who was one of our adult helpers (she helped run choir), knocked a man's toupee off with her over-exuberant pom-pom waving. Eating our sausage and chips in the Imperial College canteen at 5pm, seeing the enormous audience, watching the youth orchestra up on the stage accompanying us and performing pieces (including Polotzvian dances by Borodin), wanting that to be me.
Two years later, I was in year 8 (13 years old) and I went with my secondary school choir. We were high up in the choir stalls and I remember singing the Rhythm of Life and Hiawatha's wedding and being one of the few children in my school who knew what on earth I was singing (all those years of singing in choirs paid off!) as we'd not had many rehearsals! Finally getting to perform that Mexican wave, enviously watching the primary choirs waving their pom-poms. Dinner at Imperial College. The long coach journey home, looking out the window at all the buildings.
Two years, aged 15 and I was in the orchestra at last! Admittedly, back-desk of the viola-section. I was sitting with Mr H, the cornet teacher who played the viola. We bought an enormous bag of sweets between us to eat during the afternoon rehearsal. Rehearsing those amazing pieces and really enjoying it! Freedom was ours and we walked off to Kensington for dinner by ourselves. I had a new concert dress, it was black satin, fitted with thin straps and I fixed my hair up in a chignon. Mr P, the head of the Music school and conductor, said I looked very elegant. I always remembered that! Heading off onto stage, being the focus of all those adoring primary school pupils, playing my heart out. Jerusalem as usual, many a familiar and wonderful piece! That fun coach journey back to Music School at the end.
Those two years went quickly and there I was again, aged 17, and finally the leader of the viola section! Looking back on 5 desks of violas behind me, I was sitting with my beloved viola teacher, Mrs C. Being right at the front, in the eye-line of everyone, my best friends behind me in the violas and on the front desk of the 1st violins. Bowing my heart out. Oh and this was the year we decided to break the world record for the most recorders playing at the same time, playing Over to Africa by David Moses. I left my viola stand to play the sub-contra bass recorder, a two metre tall recorder which resembles a traditional parking meter and sat next to David Moses, who was playing the bass guitar. We broke that world record and it was great! Glancing in the programme and seeing that star by my name that denoted the principal of the viola section. Standing up at the end to the applause and knowing it would possibly be the last time I took part in that festival with my local borough as in two years, I would have left and been at University. It seemed bittersweet but life goes on...
And yet, it wasn't the end. For two years later, as a University pupil, I was asked back to be a guest player in the viola section! Back to the back desk unfortunately, but I was glad to be there. All my beloved teachers, who had been such an important part of my life, were all there, alongside me, playing. Friends who had been in the year below me, were there, really excited and glad to see me, themselves now the leaders of sections. We gave the world premiere of Persephone, the circling year, a work written about that Greek myth written by the previous (now-retired) head of the music school (he of the "elegant" comment) and of course, Jerusalem and old favourites. Songs from Yanamamo, an ecological musical about the plight of the people of that name, with the Rainforest being cut down (songs we are singing again this year!) and March Slave. I glanced in the programme and saw the sign which showed I was a guest-player. It felt strange but positive. I was no longer a part of the music school but I was in a way, still connected.
Two years later and I was busy with University final year matters and I didn't give the festival a thought. Sad really. I wonder what happened? Two more years later and I was working at a music college. Our students took part in a joint prom with the Julliard School of Music from New York held at the Albert Hall and I suddenly remembered the festival and felt sad I had missed it. How had I forgotten it? I had been away in Bali, I was an adult with little contact with the borough apart from living there.
Yet, I couldn't keep away and two years later, now in 2006, I was a qualified teacher in my first job and I was teaching in my home borough, teaching in a school near my own old primary. I helped out with the choir, and the school, like every school in the borough, was invited to sing at the festival. To my delight, I would be there as an adult helper for my own school choir (not in charge though- phew!). Dutifully, every week at choir, we would learn all the songs in that little red book, printed with the Royal Albert Hall picture and finally the day was there! We ate lunch before going and travelled by coach. My own year 5 class children were in the choir and we shared that experience together. Back in the Albert Hall, still staring at those mushrooms on the ceiling! Glancing up at the secondary school choirs in the choir stalls! Smiling up at the orchestra and being acknowledged by those teachers who were still there, supporting the pupils. The Head of Music school smiling at me (my school was in prime position in front of the orchestra). Playing Tequila on the recorder, moving our pom-poms to Padstow Lifeboat march, singing songs from Oliver lustily, Jerusalem to finish. Deep Space Nine from the orchestra. In the break, we went to dinner but for once, it wasn't at the Imperial college but at the Royal College of Music. This was a bit of a disaster as we were all split up into groups and ended up in rooms all over the place- NOT a good thing on a school trip! Small portions, not like our usual cheerful Imperial College fayre. It was a long day looking after those children but it was so exciting. Until the moment they released 1000 balloons onto the children and the children went crazy. A hundred teacherly hearts leapt through the roof at that point!
2010 arrived and I was now in charge and I went along with my choir and my faithful TA and a young teacher who helped with choir. I fretted over the preparations and phoned up my predecessor anxiously, a myriad times to ask things. Setting off on the coach, a jolly choir sang merrily along to the Go compare original advert on the radio and arrived at the Albert Hall. Once again, sat at the front of the auditorium and those old traditional favourites sung. We sang a Wicked medley, conducted by one of my own contemporaries- she was now a teacher for the Music School and did a sterling job. It was weird seeing her at the helm. Luckily no balloons and back at Imperial College for food. I was thankful! Heart full of joy as we sang those songs and I felt like I was a child again. But in charge. The return home, the sick-bucket was put to good use. Not good being in charge. But all the parents turned up on time and all was well.
In 2012, it was me, my beloved TA and the deputy head who I drafted in since she loved the WW2 songs we sang. The whole song had learnt them too- Knees up mother brown, My old man's a dustman and all those classics. We had a large area rehearsal 3 weeks before which happened to coincide with our dress-up day for World Book Day. We turned up at the rehearsal school resplendent in costume to discover not a single other school in costume. I sat ridiculously, dressed as Guinevere and we also discovered we had forgotten to bring our recorders so I gave out the pencils and we played pencil recorder! The conductor almost wet herself with laughter at us! The actual concert, a rousing success!!! We went in search of empty toilets and ended up in the SU of Imperial college, led by my Deputy head! I was mocked and laughed at by my old teachers who wept at the sight of me in the front row doing the actions for the recorder piece with alacrity with my children. I smiled serenely and continued. It felt really special that year, but I don't know why. Maybe that sense of 'coming home' or nostalgia grows stronger with age.
And finally, here we are, in 2014 and only I remain. My beloved TA who was my right-hand lady has left, gone to a different school and how I miss her! My deputy head teacher is too busy to come with me so my Mum and another teacher are coming. We are fervently practising those songs- Beatles medley, Yanamamo, the songs that were last performed in 2002, a new set of pieces, Maju Pade, an Gujurati lullaby arranged for recorders and I am anxious, but excited!!! Some of my dearest, favourite teachers are retiring this year, so this will be the last time I see them play there. Bittersweet. But for my children, this is the experience of a life-time. As it was for me, for every child I have taken, seen or sat near for the last 28 years almost. I am glad that I still get to be a part of it for special it is and special it will remain and I am SO grateful that the music school, despite enormous cuts and struggles to survive, continue to do the amazing job they do and to make this happen for 1000 children in my borough each year.
So, have I come full circle? The head of the Music School laughed and told me the only thing left I had to do was to go there to watch my own children. Well, I don't know about that but I've never played the flute there. I've always wanted to. Perhaps that could happen someday if I taught flute there? Or conduct a piece? Now that would be amazing!!
But time, tide and buttered eggs wait for no man and I have 22 wretched pom poms left to make...