On Monday afternoon of this week I made a trip to the Commons. I was excited because Ben Baldwin had asked me to learn an a cappella tune along with Kent Allyn. Thus, I was offered admission to the lair of African drumming. Like a human aquarium, the drumming room exists in the basement with ceiling-to-floor windows, while its inhabitants experiment with rhythm and sound. As I am sure many of you can attest, spending half an hour with Mr. Baldwin is good for anyone’s soul, and this visit was no disappointment. Within about 15 minutes I had become the baseline for “Lucky Dice” – a song that seems to be a little bit like an education in gambling, ironically. Filled with phrases like “snake eyes and boxcars,” I was temporarily transported away from hiring calls and enrollment spreadsheets.
Suddenly, some Middle School musicians went walking by and peered into the Baldwin aquarium. We were invited into the choral room to give an impromptu performance. And so we did. We got those kids snapping and dancing along with us for a few minutes – even if the gambling references were a touch out of their league. On the way out of the Commons lounge, one my current eighth grade Ethics students grabbed me as I was leaving.
“Mr. Schneider, I found this money on the bench.” With little fanfare, she presented me with 15 dollars she had found on the bench outside the lobby restroom. I obviously thanked her, but I don’t think the significance of the moment struck me at the time. As much as I like to think of myself as a role model nowadays, I am just not sure I can say that is what I would have done in eighth grade.
It is hard these days not to feel nostalgic about this Hilltop and the people who make it special during my own version of “senior spring.” One of the hardest things to describe to an outsider is a depth of appreciation for culture – and the power that cultural norms have upon a learning environment. Clearly, school culture is a living breathing thing that perhaps can be guided and prodded but can’t be forced or controlled. It happens through the synergy of adults and students being themselves within the umbrella of shared purpose. I plan on taking a few more trips to the Commons in the weeks ahead.
Suddenly, some Middle School musicians went walking by and peered into the Baldwin aquarium. We were invited into the choral room to give an impromptu performance. And so we did. We got those kids snapping and dancing along with us for a few minutes – even if the gambling references were a touch out of their league. On the way out of the Commons lounge, one my current eighth grade Ethics students grabbed me as I was leaving.
“Mr. Schneider, I found this money on the bench.” With little fanfare, she presented me with 15 dollars she had found on the bench outside the lobby restroom. I obviously thanked her, but I don’t think the significance of the moment struck me at the time. As much as I like to think of myself as a role model nowadays, I am just not sure I can say that is what I would have done in eighth grade.
It is hard these days not to feel nostalgic about this Hilltop and the people who make it special during my own version of “senior spring.” One of the hardest things to describe to an outsider is a depth of appreciation for culture – and the power that cultural norms have upon a learning environment. Clearly, school culture is a living breathing thing that perhaps can be guided and prodded but can’t be forced or controlled. It happens through the synergy of adults and students being themselves within the umbrella of shared purpose. I plan on taking a few more trips to the Commons in the weeks ahead.
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