It was an unlikely scenario.  A large group of high school students socially distanced in an auditorium and others joining through zoom were waiting to hear from their speaker, also zooming in.  The speaker arrives, and this unassuming older gentleman in a suit and tie and a smile on his face begins to speak.  Within minutes he has the young people eating out of his hand.  I’m watching the faces of the students on zoom and several are glued to the screen, smiling or laughing at the appropriate times, but mostly, unmoving and just listening.  For 60 minutes, this group of students was glued to this man, a couple of generations removed from them and what were they talking about?  Their similar experiences of being a part of music ensembles.

In most normal circumstances, these people would have nothing in common, no reason to talk to each other.  I’m sure these young people would have walked by this guy without so much as a look up from their phones. But the shared experiences were powerful, so powerful that I also found myself tearing up as he shared how lucky we were to have been a part of this thing called music making.  So lucky to have made lifelong friends doing something that challenged us on a daily basis. 

My dad was 34 years old when I was born, so nearly 40 before we began talking music together.  The 40 year old and the 6 year old, listening to and learning about music together.  That continued to be the story until shortly before he passed.  Every birthday and Christmas I would try to find something he would like to listen to and he would sit in his recliner and I would sit on the floor and we would listen and talk about it.  He shared his love of the Glenn Miller Orchestra, I introduced him to Manhattan Transfer.  It was a way to connect.  Almost two generations apart and it was music that brought us together.

Every year here at the flag ship university, the alumni band gets together to march at a halftime show.  Several generations, usually gathering at the crack of dawn, borrowing instruments, bringing their old instrument from home, gather to practice music and marching together.  Alumni who just graduated sharing stories with those who marched back in the 1950’s.  Again, maybe not anything in common except a common love of the marching arts. 

Maybe other subjects do this too.  Maybe young and old math lovers get together and talk numbers.  Maybe young and old grammar lovers talk words.  I don’t know.  I just can’t imagine them getting emotional about them, laughing, crying, sharing stories about those great math problems or diagraming sentences.  Great life skills I’m sure, but not memories they’ll share for a lifetime.  This is where the magic begins.  Not only does the love of making music span generations, it bonds us and creates memories for a lifetime.   

Many years ago I had the opportunity to have dinner with the family of one of my students.  I was a young teacher and this was the first time I had been invited to a student’s home.  Before we began the meal, they all stood in a circle – it was large family – and they sang the prayer in parts before the dinner.  I didn’t know the prayer, so I just got to listen.  What a joyful experience!  After the meal, they took time to sing together again.  I’ve never seen anything like that since, but it made such an impression on me.  The whole experience was so magical and it was so cool to watch this family bond through music.  Since moving here I’ve had the opportunity to meet many musical families, parents who teach, children who play or sing, where they take pride in the fact that music is what binds them together.  This past year, when everyone was locking down in their homes, some friends of ours got their kids together, dad on piano, son on guitar, mom and daughter on trumpet, another daughter singing and they recorded themselves to put on social media.  It was amazing and lit up social media.  Why?  It was good, don’t get me wrong, but it was the relationship building that was happening between generations that was again, so magical.

Maybe as music educators we need to consider opportunities to bring different generations of families and others together to talk about, listen to and make music.  While we may not agree on a lot of things, and we not have anything in common, including our generation, once the music begins, all of that goes away and we all just become musicians together.  I’ve had the opportunity to work with college students and elementary age children together to make music and it’s an amazing experience.  It goes back to what I talked about yesterday –  watching the youngster’s faces when the “big kids” sing or play instruments with them is priceless and the college students begin to see a glimpse of how they can make life meaningful to children through music, perhaps seeing the magic of sharing the gift of music for generations to come.