The box violins are ready, the bows are ready. Everything is packed, waiting by the door. I’ve read, and imagined, and planned.
This afternoon seven children and I are embarking on something of an adventure. Am I ready? That’s a tough question. This is an experiment—part dream, part doing-what-I-know-how-to-do, part emulating what has worked really well for others. All mixed-up into what I guess is my own, new, thing.
I worry about messing it up, boring the kids, going too slow, going too fast, revealing what a _______ I am to everybody who hasn’t already figured it out, disappointing people who encouraged me, disappointing people who donated money, disappointing parents, students, myself. I worry I will run out of material, overwhelm everybody, talk too much, feel too shy, act too weird, lose my nerve, fall flat on my face.
And then I remember: this isn’t just my thing. It’s our thing—mine, my students’, my family’s, the school’s, the community’s. And together, with care and listening and work, we can make something good.
Life is art. I believe that more every day.
(The Violin Project is on Facebook. Come visit.)
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