Follow-Up II

Time flies. Sophie is much bigger now.

C. J. Duffy, very nicely and not in a screaming way, I'm sure, has some comments in response to this post:

The thought of someone, anyone, molesting children makes my skin crawl. The problem with incidents like this though is our natural inclination to instantly think the worst. I recall some years back taking Tweezilbean, my youngest, ice-skating for her tenth birthday bash. I went to take photographs of my girl and was told that I couldn’t as I may be a paedophile. Sometimes we witch hunt is what I am trying to say. Having said that if the bloke is guilty I hope he goes away for a very long time.

This has pretty much been the response of every male, especially around here, where people have long admired this teacher. I have reasons other than this teacher's general sleaziness for believing the charges to be founded in truth, the most compelling of which is that at the initial hearing, his lawyer did not argue that there was insufficient evidence, but only that the charge should be lessened. Otherwise I would not publicize or necessarily believe the story either.

C. J. D. also says,

I would have thought anyone worth their salt would teach that self-esteem and talent are not always good bedfellows that they don’t always walk hand in hand. We all, by degree are talented and use that talent to the best of our abilities but there is always, unless supremely gifted, someone just that little bit better. I think most children understand that. I suppose this fellow was simply building self-esteem in an attempt to look good in his pupils’ eyes which as far as I can see, positive though it seems, is missing the point entirely.

The issue of self-esteem and talent is daily present in the Weirsdo household, due to Toyplayer's difficulty with playing an instrument (but he is competent for a nonprofessional-track kid). But I would say that in addition to Toyplayer's other talents in history and drama, he has a wonderful memory, and is one of the most good-hearted and considerate kids I know. When I say "achievement," I mean ANY achievement that anyone of good character might attain, not just achievements arising from talent.
The context for the screaming I alluded to was that the sleazy teacher's students showed up to a local TV gig I was in charge of unprepared. I believe this is a failure of character on the teacher's, parents', and students' parts and should be censured, regardless of the temporary effect of such censure on the self-esteem of all concerned.
Based only on observation, I would say that the sleazy teacher told students and parents what they wanted to hear in order to line his own pockets. This included not only undeserved compliments, but also conveying the impression that he was an Auburn University professor when I'm not even sure he ever finished an undergraduate degree at NSU, although he is not a terrible violinist. Granted it is virtually impossible to make a living as an honest teacher without institutional support, but I think it would be better to find an honest line of work.
Mrs. Weirsdo

Follow-Up

Toyplayer has been working on his website for the Alabama stage of the National History Day Contest. I love Busby Berkeley.
Around New Year's, Karen wrote, "A hearty congratulations to the Tigers for soundly defeating the Cavaliers at the Chick-fil-A Bowl!"
Thank you, K. We'll take what we can get, but it was a fun game.
And speaking of fun games, some of you may remember that I have always admired Eli Manning. . . .
Mrs. Weirsdo

Update

Yes, Photoshop is really magical. . . .

I miss blogging and want to get back to everyone and to writing. I have been practicing and homeschooling Toyplayer and editing Dr. Weirsdo's manuscripts, and generally coping with the passage of time. This blog no longer fits in with my family life the way it used to, and the "F" word ("Facebook") is cropping up with increasing frequency. But I am going to finish "Gone With the Captists" before taking this down and reconfiguring.
In the meantime, here's what's been happening:
Like Sauron or Voldemort, Dr. Minnie Strator can never truly be vanquished, but she was dealt a full body blow when the Veryred State English Department hired an outsider who is apparently sane to be the new chair. Dr. Weirsdo was taken off all his stupid committee work and allowed (gasp) to do what he does best, research. He even got extra travel money! He has been working and researching even more than before.
I am trying to learn the Saint-Saens Concerto.
My students are doing well. It was a Schadenfreude Christmas this year when the "fun" teacher in town who was "good with kids" was arrested for molesting one of them. He has since been indicted, and I am just waiting to hear how much time he will have to do. To be clear, I am not happy that anyone was (allegedly) molested. But I am happy because, in the words of Mall Diva, "He should have been arrested for fraud years ago," and all the stupid people who thought he was so wonderful, some of whom have been known to scream at me because I asserted that self-esteem should be linked to real achievement, are now belatedly questioning their so-called judgment.
Mall Diva doesn't live here anymore. She lives in her own (shared) apartment with Sophie the cat and drinks coffee and wine and hangs out with her friends and practices and occasionally studies. She hasn't won anything lately, but she was proud to get to the finals of NSU's Concerto Competition (on violin--she was the only American-born undergraduate and the only person under 20 to do so). Everyone thinks she's very talented and has a promising future. She is looking forward to visiting Harry Potter World on spring break.
Toyplayer is creating a website on the transition from silent to sound film for this year's National History Day Competition. It is a neat project, and the best medium for the subject, but he has several times said he liked doing the performance better, and the technology is irksome.
Scarface is fine, though once again showing some signs of the obsessive-compulsive disorder that causes him to chew his fur off from time to time. A steroid shot usually puts him right. He can't stand Sophie, who hounds him (yes, I'm using a canine metaphor) like particularly obnoxious, adoring paparazzi, but she only visits very occasionally.
Happy Birthday, Cheesemistress, happy Ogre Day, RBUD, and I hope everyone survived Valentine's Day all right. Dr. Weirsdo and I had a nice one with all the trimmings, but I know that it is often an anti-holiday, just a reminder of one's lacks.
Mrs. Weirsdo

New Captist Angel and Other Matters

We welcome Mall Diva's cat, Sophy, into the pantheon of Captist Angels.
This statement ratified by the Cat Claw Clan and High Priestess Julia

In response to the preceding post about NSU's Young Artist Program director, Mr. Z., Karen wrote, "Mr. Z is pretty dreamy."
No offense to Mr. Z., but these photos can be deceiving, Karen. Note the soft focus. It was probably taken a few years ago, too. But go ahead and dream, if it makes you happy. I won't tell W. W., to whom he is attached.

Way cuter than Mr. Z.

Return of Weirsdo

Diamonelle doesn't need paparazzi.

I'm sorry to have been gone so long. The usual rush of lessons and orchestra rehearsals is upon us, and on top of that, my dream job has apparently fallen into my lap.
Last summer, when I was working at a nearby music camp, Mr. Z. was also working there. Mr. Z. had been given the task of transforming the preparatory program at NSU from students teaching lessons for peanuts to a full pre-professional program for promising young music students. The problem was that despite its fairly large size, Nearby City, GA, had few good students.
Why? Perhaps because its main industry, the military, is not known for pursuing classical music, or because the second most lucrative industry is medical, and doctors don't spend enough time with their families to get their kids to practice (just a guess, and, of course, an over-generalization). Or maybe the days of the wife bringing in a little income on the side by teaching music are history, since most households require two full incomes to get by. Certainly the young people I know who are freelancing in the area are understandably more interested in quick income from gigs than in the slow and uncertain money from teaching.
Whatever the case, no students were forthcoming. After watching and working with the six students I brought to the camp, interviewing me while seeming to chat over the course of the week, and observing the performance of the groups I was coaching on the camp recital, Mr. Z. hired me to work in his Young Artist Program, hoping I would be able to bring in some decent participants.
Fortunately, I was able to get seven kids and their parents to sign up, including J. and a visiting student who has been studying with a member of the faculty at Shanghai Conservatory. They and three cellos, including Mr. Z.'s 14-year-old daughter, meet every Saturday at NSU for an hour of chamber music, an hour of orchestra, and an hour of masterclass. The kids are getting to play for the world-renowned Mr. S. and W. W., among others.
Every week is very exciting for me. Being the only one on the faculty without an established career with a major ensemble, I was quite willing to work with the least advanced chamber group, but this is fun, since these are the students who will learn the most and come the farthest. Then I get to participate in the chamber orchestra, since they have no violas except staff, and it is interesting to watch how Mr. Z. works with the kids, which is a specialty of his. Finally, I get to watch the guest artists who do the master classes teach the kids whom I've prepared and the odd cellist.
But the most amazing part is that after Dr. Minnie Strator harassed me out of Very Red State for not raising my grades and lowering my standards, after years of most non-Asian parents in this town going to the teachers who made them and their lazy kids feel comfortable, instead of to me--after all that, now suddenly every week I am told what a great teacher I am by major musicians who need my expertise to keep this program afloat.
Oh yeah, and I get paid, too!
It is a bit of pressure, as two students need to be prepared to play in the masterclass nearly every week, and I need the parents to help with transportation. But the prestige, respect, and confidence more than compensate. The parents and kids have been very cooperative--imagine, they are all ready to go at 7 A. M. every Saturday! These families really understand and appreciate what an amazing opportunity this is. I'm pretty sure word will spread and others will begin to notice also.

Weirsdos Come Home

In response to Mall Diva's Christmas card in the last post, Karen writes, "Your daughter Sylvia is an awesome photographer, as well as one hellava graphic artist! Surely she could sell her Christmas card design to any number of snowless-state stationary stores on the numerous exits of Interstate-10."
Thanks a lot, Karen. We are gratified to see that Mayuko Fujino, a professional artist of our cyber-acquaintance, favorited it on Flickr. But when we took a bunch of these cards down to the local used book/coffee shop hot spot, the owner said Mall Diva needed to do fancy handwriting to make them saleable. Whatever. Mayuko Fujino's opinion means way more. I think Mall Diva undervalues her artistic talents. For her, art is just a hobby, but I sometimes think I shouldn't have distracted her from it with all the music stuff.
Anyway, here is a sketch Mall Diva made of her friends and her at Bowdoin International Music Festival, whence she returned the day after Toyplayer and I returned from points west. Enjoy.

Weirsdos Westward II: Happy Holidays

A Mall Diva Christmas card.

After Tulsa, Toyplayer and I headed up to Kansas City, where we played cards, Scrabble, charades, and hang man and watched THE INCREDIBLES, CARS, and WALL-E. Grandma Weirsdoer had never seen THE INCREDIBLES and CARS before, and she liked them a lot. We also took her some of Mall Diva's inimitable stationery, because we had noticed she had run out.
The visit was nicer than usual because Grandma Weirsdoer's roommate had stolen some meds and had to be hospitalized, so she was gone, and the roommate before her had left a DVD-player and TV, so we didn't have to be out in the big room with everybody as much. Also, they have moved the smokers farther away from the building, and I think they are taking fewer of them, so second-hand smoke is not as much of a problem as it used to be.
Our home away from home was the 54th Street Grill and Bar, where Toyplayer consumed many a Devil's Den Burger, and I enjoyed Boulevard beer and great salads.