Sunday, September 19, 2010

The Challenge, The Success, The Journey Done

A musician is gone from this world, leaving a legacy of outstanding recordings, beautiful performances, and stunning moments of inspiration not just to those with handicaps, but to everyone he encountered. His name was Stacy Blair, a trumpet player of the highest order. A brilliant man whose unbridled talent was matched by his relentless discipline and desire for success, Stacy overcame his blindness to become one of the greatest trumpet artists of his time. I urge you to read his biography and take a minute to remember this amazing man, a man dedicated to excellence in performance. http://stacyblair.org/Stacy_Blair/About.html

As a very immature but somewhat talented horn player, when I first arrived at Hardin-Simmons in 1978, I heard the stories of the legend of Stacy Blair. Stories that were hard to imagine but indeed were true. Stories of his ping-pong and pool playing abilities, his sense of his surroundings, his ability to remember every voice and sound he heard, and mostly his remarkable talent. But these truths paled in comparison to his rigorous discipline and commitment to excellence. His gifts were immense as was his engaging personality and brilliance. As a student at HSU, Stacy was rarely found without a trumpet or mouthpiece in his hand, not wanting to waste an opportunity to improve. Yes, he was talented and had an aptitude for the trumpet, but it was his devotion to practice and learning that is the most impressive. As a sophomore at Hardin-Simmons, I finally met the legend and I asked him if he had any suggestions for me as a budding horn player. He laughed that famous contagious laugh of his and said, "Practice much and listen always!"

Because of his blindness, he learned music by listening to recordings and imitating the masters. Imitation being the greatest form of flattery, Stacy took this to another level by infusing his own artistry and personality into his performances. Specializing on the piccolo trumpet, but adept at all styles, Stacy performed throughout the world with orchestras, making beautiful recordings demonstrating his unswerving dedication to beauty and excellence. But it was his concerts at churches and various conferences that stick out in my mind. He and Dr. John Campbell on the organ performed throughout the state and beyond, gracing congregations and audiences with trumpet joy and musical artistry. When he played, his music communicated beauty and love that seemed to reach to the soul. He was not a great blind trumpet player, instead he was a wonderfully expressive, technically gifted, and incredible trumpet player who also happened not to be able to see.

His blindness was a challenge but he met it head-on with a prodigious memory. His memory was that of a computer, and his ability to organize what he, heard was without equal. I recall giving him a phone call after a few years of not having spoken with him. He answered "This is Stacy Blair" and I said "Hi Stacy, this is...". But before I could finish, he said, "Hi Rob, How are you?" I asked him if he would be available for a performance and he said with a touch of amusement, "I'll have to check my calendar." I knew his calendar was in his head! Later walking with him, I noticed he operated on two levels, conversing normally but also being aware of his surroundings, sensing obstacles and changes in the feel of the room or environment. He knew where the tree was or the chair and always knew when a person was coming close to him. He counted steps and memorized everything as he journeyed.

He was a living testament to overcoming disabilities, to having a strong work ethic, and to a life of musical expression. Yet, struggle he did at times. The life of a musician can be difficult, wrought full of financial ups and downs, great stress, fear of decline, and waiting for the next phone call. All these plus the ubiquitous problems of blindness and deteriorating health took their toll on Stacy who struggled with various challenges the last few years.

I recall spending some time with a blind pianist several years ago. I went to his motel room to pick him up for a concert at church. He opened the door, letting me in and closing the door behind him. Suddenly I was steeped in almost total darkness and rather shocked about it. I really could not see anything. Yet I could hear my friend rummaging around in the room getting things ready to go. He then asked me to grab the voice translator box that was near the bed. Not wanting to demonstrate weakness, I began to feel my way around the room hoping to touch the object and get it out to the car. Finally after hitting my foot and nearly hitting my head on something, I asked him if I could turn on the light?

He laughed uproariously and said "Of course, it doesn't matter to me." I was immediately struck by my own ineptness at handling darkness even for two minutes, realizing he had spent his entire life that way. The challenges of blindness can only be understood by the blind. As an exercise, try spending a few hours functioning in the world with your eyes shut or covered. The challenge is tremendous and the sympathy for the blind will remain with you forever.

Stacy's blindness was not an obstacle for him as a musician, but in some ways it was difficult for him as a traveling soloist. The seeing eye dog helped as did the myriad of people, but in the end it must have been a challenge and one that only a blind performer could understand. In spite of that, Stacy was a fireball of joy and happiness. Always quick to laugh, he loved life, people, and music, spreading joy everywhere he went with a constant kind word, a smile on his face, and an optimistic spirit. Who can forget his sly grin and creative spark as he offered his warm personality to everyone. He will be missed but he leaves behind a wealth of recordings and a host of people who admired him and learned from him. He gave us so much and will not be forgotten. Thank you Stacy for being such an inspiration to so many.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Who Is This Person?

Too often we spend our time reacting to other people, particularly those we love, being angry at their flaws, or hopefully loving their positive qualities. For those outside our immediate circle, we may be envious, or admiring, or full of disdain, but we rarely seem to understand or sympathize with their situation or even their own emotional condition. No, I am not teaching tolerance here, I am instead advocating a deeper understanding of human nature, autistics in particular.

From very small children to adults, rather than criticizing perhaps we should be empathizing or to take it another step further, maybe it is time for many of us to look at the world through the eyes of the challenged. The recent passing of a friend who was a blind trumpet player prompted me again to imagine a world without sight. How must that be? Each day I depend so much on my sight and my mind to process that which I see, from people to things, to this computer, to the vast array of colors, shapes, symbols that cross my path almost minute by minute. Not to have sight presents a world of darkness and imagination that must be entirely different from what sighted people experience daily.

I am not convinced that we as loving parents of our autistic son have ever truly understood his perspective on life. Sometimes I am not sure who he really is in fact. How does his brain process information, what does he see, hear, feel? We have worked so hard to help him cope and fit in to this crazy world, that maybe we have missed a thorough comprehension of Joel's inner sanctum. Yet while it is easy to acknowledge this possibility, it is far more challenging to fix the problem. Who is Joel?

I recall picking up one of those odd shopping baskets a few weeks ago that seemed to have a steering problem. While dwelling on the pitiful emotion of feeling like I always get the bad buggy, I began to compensate for its flaws. Yes I would have preferred a little more ease of mobility, and yes I had to use a touch of elbow grease to make it work well, but on the other hand, it beat having to carry cereal, coffee, meat, bread, and canned goods in my arms. The little cart struggled some but we worked together and came to some positive resolutions! Perhaps it was later repaired or perhaps someone else came along and shared in the challenging joy of steering the little guy.

At first I was frustrated that my cart did not work the way I had hoped. My concept of shopping carts did not include a bad wheel. But I compensated for the situation and after awhile, almost did not notice the problem. Unlike Joel, however, the cart could be repaired or at least get a new wheel. Joel cannot get a new brain. He may one day have the opportunity to have it repaired (although we are many years away from that kind of biotechnology I think), but for now he simply has to adjust for the inherent situation in which he lives. As parents and guardians we work to steer him in such a way as to stay on course and accomplish his goals, but ultimately he has to find a way to direct himself.

Since this is true, it is frustrating and in many ways futile to resist and try to change those characteristics that make Joel who he is. What does work is seeking to embrace his qualities and approach him in the way he approaches life, avoiding the abstract, creating an environment of trust, keeping things ordered and pleasant, and recognizing his limitations. This makes for a healthier and happier theater for him. A principle of teaching is somewhere in this essay--find him where he is and help him accomplish those things that will benefit him the most.

The Burden of Self-Reflection

My Dad used to say, "Son, you take yourself too seriously. Enjoy life and laugh at yourself occasionally." I have learned to do so and try to avoid those introspective times of self-reflection and self-absorption. But being a flawed human, I tend to operate in a vacuum of what is best for me. This is not a great quality but I have noticed it is a trait common to everyone I meet. We tend to spend too much time in self-reflection. There is nothing wrong with this unless our absorption excludes the rest of the world. My personal island is a myth and to try to live on it, devoid of others is both absurd and impossible. To take it another step, excessive self-reflection is a burden and one that can shape your world-view, carrying your problems and mistakes everywhere you go. Yes, my Dad was right, we tend to take ourselves too seriously.

Now let's talk about Joel and autism. As ironic as it seems, autistics do not generally spend much time in self-reflection. This seems a bold statement to make in light of the generally accepted attitude of autistics being withdrawn and into their own world. Yet being in your own world does not necessarily require self-absorption as much as it requires simply designing your own framework to fit your concept. Self-reflection is an exercise in creativity and imagination, both traits that are not common in autism. For to self-reflect is to spend time learning about oneself and applying those truths in the outer world. As previously mentioned, too much self-reflection leads to self-absorption and subsequently the removal of selfless altruism (Randians out there, don't get miffed yet!).

So why do autistics remain quiet and seemingly caught up in themselves? What are they thinking about? In the case of Joel, each time I ask him to verbalize his thoughts, he tells me what he wants to do, eat, play the organ, go somewhere, or he tells me something he sees or touches or is currently experiencing. But he has never told me some deep emotional thought that would be a kind of breakthrough as to what is in his head. I do suspect at times he is ordering the world around him and trying desperately to make sense of it. But I do not believe his quiet moments, days, are due to any kind of self-reflection as much as it is due to reorganizing that which confuses him.

But his confusion, his need for order, routine, for organization, for planning does not cause him depression or deep anguish, instead it causes him immediate fright and insecurity. While emotions such as these would lead "normal" (there's that word again) people to examine themselves and their own deep seated concerns, for an autistic, they are simply emotions of the moment and not worth great consternation over a period of time. It comes back to the difference between a life filled with imagination and a life filled with complexity. Imagination is a great gift and one that send us to worlds unknown and heights not attained by human beings, but imagination is the same thing that takes us to dark regions, fear, and suspicion. How often have we dreamed up a negative situation that didn't really exist? How often are we suspicious when there is no reason to be?

Self-reflection to a point can be gainful, causing us to learn more about ourselves thereby resulting in greater productivity and general usefulness. Excessive self-reflection, however, can lead to self-absorption, taking us eventually to depression and anxiety. For Joel, missing an imagination, these traits are non-existent. He is not burdened by any kind of extreme self-reflection and instead responds to life in two dimensions rather than three. This makes for a generally happy response to most situations, provided they make sense in his world. Maybe there is a magic to this idea, and maybe we can learn from this concept.

Thursday, September 02, 2010

Standing for Productivity

I first began thinking about it when I saw a commercial of a man doing voice overs. He was standing near a microphone and speaking rather dramatically, even gesturing with his hands as he delivered his recorded message. He could have sat down for this since nobody would be watching him on the recording. Why not relax?

When I direct Region bands, I am on my feet all day. I only sit down on breaks or meal times. Otherwise I stay standing all day, maintaining a high energy tempo throughout my teaching. Learning that Brahms composed standing up, Donald Rumsfeld always works standing up, Generals often have standing meetings, I have decided to stand up while I work.

Added to this commitment, I noticed at the Apple store, the workers all stood while they helped customers. Same with the AT&T store. Standing must aid in productivity.

So I bought a standing desk, placed it near my old, antiquated sitting desk and now stay active all day. For one thing, it makes work fun and gives me a spring in my step. Instead of that old, creaky knees problem, I am ready to move at a blink. Signing documents is quick and easy, getting coffee is fast, and I even think my breathing is easier. All in all so far this is a successful venture.

On the downside, people do look at me oddly when they enter the office, curious why I am standing up. Also conferences are a little awkward standing. Because of this, I often sit during conferences to make the other person more comfortable. My standing desk, though, gives the appearance of energy and expectations, and as we know perception can become reality. I find myself doubly productive, interested in even the mundane tasks, and enjoying my office work. No, it is not for everyone and yes, I tend to be a contrarian at times, but I do hope to see others give it a try.

I wonder if I could try a standing meeting with some people. We might see quicker results, less distraction, and more goal-direction. Just an idea. So I stand for productivity in all things, it makes work fun.