My position or maybe who I am

The other day during band camp, I was asked to play jazz piano in a combo. Playing jazz piano is already a bit unusual for a dean of music and fine arts and maybe for someone with a Doctor of Philosophy, and I often notice the quizzical grins I receive when I sit at the piano for comping (a phrase used to describe jazz accompanying) and for improvisation. But this particular day, as we were setting up, it was suggested that I sit on the amplifier and have it faced the opposite direction. This allows for more control of sound and a little bit more reverberation for the audience. In addition, the other players can hear the piano better thus lending itself to greater ensemble playing.

We began the warm-up period (which usually involves doodling on the various instruments while the others are getting set-up) and I realized how strange it felt for the piano sound to be coming out behind and below me. I had a fleeting thought which I unfortunately verbalized, "I feel as though I am flatulating music." As I completed my thought and realized it had indeed been spoken, I felt as much as saw the stares of shock from the other players. One player in particular responded with, "That's our Dean!" which I took as "See what we tolerate?" or maybe, "Forgive him, he is different," or perhaps, "You never know what he will say next," or worse, "What kind of dean would say such a thing."

Flatulence is an odd event in life that seems to carry with it both great humor and disdain. Benjamin Franklin wrote admirably about this event in his masterful essay, "Fart Proudly," and Augustine himself discussed the act of "breaking wind" as being similar to singing. In some cultures, flatulence is as common and accepted as a yawn; whereas, in others it is considered offensive and ill-mannered. In our society, it has a humorous element to it, but is also reserved for certain events. Since much has been written on this subject and most people have an informed and probably personal experience with said event, I do not feel a need to postulate any further on this subject.

I wish, instead, to discuss what it means to have a Ph.D. and to be a Dean. There is an expectation of refinement, of intelligence, of preparation, of scholarly thought, and of wisdom or perception. My steps, my words, my actions must be different, unique, and probably superior by virtue of my rank and position in life. Strangely, I don't feel any different from before and I certainly would prefer to be myself regardless of how I am seen, but I wonder if it is really that simple. How fair or right is it for me to disappoint people or to burst the balloon of expectation that has been set forth for me by other people?

Although it is widely acknowledged that all men have flaws and that nobody is perfect, we still somehow tend to elevate certain positions and therefore invoke a greater expectation upon those very people. According to Emmanuel Kant, we are shaped by our interests, our history, and our concepts, and it is these very concepts that guide our judgment, our choices, and our decision-making process. If our interest is Science Fiction, and our history is defined by the books of Isaac Asimov, then our concept or expectation is for future Science Fiction to be similar to the writing of Isaac Asimov. If our concept of the best sandwich is that from Subway, then we tend to compare all sandwiches to our conceptual idea of the perfect sandwich.

Of course, concepts can also be formed, and most likely are superior, from our creative imagination. We conjure and decide what someone should be or how someone should act and subsequently impose that expectation on the person. It may not always be fair and it may not always be consistent, and our human frailty often flies in the face of the expectation, but regardless of the end result, this is indeed the way it is. We should and must, at least to an extent, without sacrificing our individuality, act in a manner befitting of the expectations of the position. This is true regardless of the chosen profession.

I insist on retaining my independent right to be myself, yet I also remind myself to meet the expectations of others and to "act like a dean is supposed to act!" This morning, when I made my precursory glance in the mirror to check my hair (my personal attempt at humor each morning since my hair requires no attention), I reproved, rebuked, and exhorted myself with great patience and understanding. Mainly, I reminded myself not to shake people's expectations up too much and to go easy on the uncultivated humor! After all, I am a dean and it may be time to act as such.