Friday evening, I performed with an orchestra and a drama workshop, Mendelssohn's A Midsummernights Dream. As requested by a friend, I used Facebook Live to stream parts of the experience. During the intermission, I streamed a group (about 10 of the orchestra players) discussion about how the show was going so far. Long story made short, some pretty awful things were said about sections in the orchestra by myself and others. Though I'm not friends on Facebook with those players, I wanted to offer a public apology. I said some things and even engaged in a conversation that I'm not proud of.
I realize that though I might not have made most of the disparaging remarks, I engaged them and that that's just as bad. I realize that while some of the remarks might have been made objectively, my tone and intent were not honorable and loving and therefore were unbecoming of a [music] educator. I realize that even though I know plenty of educators who might have condoned and defended my comments and those of others, I can't because I know better. I realize that while some of the comments were made in jest, the murkiness of them is displeasing to God and I know better. I was taught and raised better.
A former teacher and current section-mate of mine mentioned to me just before the second half of the show that he'd watched it and had to turn it off when the conversation switched from funny to mean. He might not have condemned my comments or the conversation, but do I want anyone to be ashamed of me, of my actions, of my words? It made me think. I mean, for the duration of the second half of the show, it made me think. Hard. What's wrong with me? How could I and why would say such things about anyone? As much as I've been talked about by others, why would I pass that down? What kind of Christian am I trying to be? What kind of message am I sending to my peers about myself and the God they've heard me talking about?
My makeup didn't matter in that moment, nor did the fact that I was sitting principal cellist in an orchestra of men and women 20+ years my senior. The only thing that mattered was that I'd disappointed my teacher (probably), myself, and displeased God.
It was if instead of reading the music, I was looking into a mirror. And I didn't see the fresh fade haircut. I didn't see the eyes my boyfriend always calls beautiful or my mommy's cheeks that I stole or my dad's butt-chin. I saw a monster with a mask made of my face... And it didn't matter how bright the highlight shone, how well my brow line was concealed, the mask couldn't cover the monster.
I realize that though I might not have made most of the disparaging remarks, I engaged them and that that's just as bad. I realize that while some of the remarks might have been made objectively, my tone and intent were not honorable and loving and therefore were unbecoming of a [music] educator. I realize that even though I know plenty of educators who might have condoned and defended my comments and those of others, I can't because I know better. I realize that while some of the comments were made in jest, the murkiness of them is displeasing to God and I know better. I was taught and raised better.
A former teacher and current section-mate of mine mentioned to me just before the second half of the show that he'd watched it and had to turn it off when the conversation switched from funny to mean. He might not have condemned my comments or the conversation, but do I want anyone to be ashamed of me, of my actions, of my words? It made me think. I mean, for the duration of the second half of the show, it made me think. Hard. What's wrong with me? How could I and why would say such things about anyone? As much as I've been talked about by others, why would I pass that down? What kind of Christian am I trying to be? What kind of message am I sending to my peers about myself and the God they've heard me talking about?
My makeup didn't matter in that moment, nor did the fact that I was sitting principal cellist in an orchestra of men and women 20+ years my senior. The only thing that mattered was that I'd disappointed my teacher (probably), myself, and displeased God.
It was if instead of reading the music, I was looking into a mirror. And I didn't see the fresh fade haircut. I didn't see the eyes my boyfriend always calls beautiful or my mommy's cheeks that I stole or my dad's butt-chin. I saw a monster with a mask made of my face... And it didn't matter how bright the highlight shone, how well my brow line was concealed, the mask couldn't cover the monster.
Is this who I've let myself become? Am I someone who's been hurt and abused and passes down hurt and abuse, knowing how hurt and abused I've been? Is this the 'churck folk' monster I've heard about and even preached about? You know the one that preaches one way and lives another?
The good news is that God is still able to change and renew, but it takes more than going to church services to be saved and more than practicing to be a good musician.
To be continued...
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