Lessons in Humility

It's amazing, the things we ask our kids to do, isn't it? We lay down rules and guidelines for them, expecting flawless obedience despite how they feel about it. There are good reasons for this, as any parent knows. You don't do it to be random and controlling. There is a reason why you hold hands in a parking lot, and a reason why you don't stick a fork in an electrical outlet. When asked why they must observe this seemingly pointless or constrictive rule, many times the reason given is, "Just because." Today Li'l G and I both were in this position of obedience despite discomfort. Let me set the scene:

My four-year-old daughter, Li'l G, is enrolled in violin lessons. For anyone familiar with the Suzuki technique, she is a Pre-Twinkler. She loves her teacher for the invidual lesson but is less than fond of the group setting on Saturday mornings. She is put into a group with kids from ages 4 to 10 who are above her level in skill, seeing as she is one of only two Pre-Twinklers. The group consists of about eight children. Although usually quite gregarious, Li'l G is rather shy in the group, especially when the Academy Director is teaching the group. This woman is cheerful and pleasant but firm and is clearly used to teaching at least elementary aged students. Two weeks ago, at the last group lesson, "Mrs. Smith" taught the group lesson. Li'l G refused to bow at the beginning and end of the lesson (it's a Suzuki thing), and refused to sit down as instructed when the older, more advanced students were playing a song that she hasn't yet been taught. The teacher allowed her to come sit with me (wrangling a loud and "energetic" Bud, who is two years old), and she proceeded to burst into tears and cause a real scene. That day we all had a lesson in humiliation, but that's a totally different blog.

As we practiced yesterday in preparation for today's group lesson, Li'l G and I talked about being shy, listening to teachers, following directions, etc. I explained to her in toddler-friendly terms that being shy is OK, but not following her teacher's instructions definitely was not. She was not expected to be life of the party, but she certainly was expected to follow simple directions. Let me also take a moment here to point out that Grace does not appreciate having to sit out when the group plays a song she doesn't know (and is not expected to know at this point). She is the only one being asked to sit out while the other kids play the song. Li'l G has inherited that faulty gene of pride from her uber-competetive mother that I can only pray will not get the best of her as she grows and matures. I, having played the violin for most of my life, could quite easily instruct her in how to play the song, but the former teacher in me says that there is a logical progression of skills that she must acquire before proceeding to the next song. If I interfere and teach her this song, just to ease the breaking of her heart in this situation, I will have undermined both her instructor (who was my beginning instructor many moons ago) and the integrity of the program. However, she is almost there and could learn to play it quite easily. I'm torn about what to do, but that's yet another blog.

Back to the events of the day: We get to lessons today, and happily discover that "Mrs. Smith" is not teaching this group; instead, it is the instructor we regularly have and whom Li'l G adores. One less battle to fight. We have a quit pep talk in the car about being cool with being shy, but how important it is to do what our teachers ask us to do. The lesson goes off without a hitch, when we come to the time where she has to bow out for a song. She turned back to look at me, I encouraged her to go ahead and put her instrument down, and she did it, obediently, without a grudge or a tear, and took her lumps. She walked over to me and just buried her little sweet face in my lap and sobbed. Once that song was over, she was asked to come back to the group. She composed herself and ended the lesson on a cheerful note. I was so proud of her for handling herself that way.

Now for my turn through the wringer. Later in the morning, we met some long-lost FT Polk friends, now in the FT Hood area, at Inflatable Funland. We were reuniting after having not seen each other in almost three years. Just as we're all walking up to the establishment of juvenile craziness, I'm smacked in the face with, "Temple." Explanation: My hometown is a, well, difficult place. If you are successful, you leave this place like Sodom and Gomorrah and you make a point to never come back (holidays being the exception to this unspoken rule). If you leave and return, or *gasp* you never leave at all, you are a miserable failure, doomed to be someone who couldn't have a life or was a waste of the public school system. It's a town of over 50,000 people; yet, it feels like there are only 2,000. Everyone knows you and your business. I deal with this on a small scale every day when I drop Li'l G off at school. I did not want to come back to this area for the reasons listed above. I struggle enough to process my reality without having to worry about prying eyes and judgments being passed in my general direction. There were a handful of these individuals there today, having a pleasant family gathering, but they might as well have been brandishing a billy club or a cat-o-nine-tails for all I care. These people had disdain for me in the past, and now that I'm "back" because of my "tragic situation," they feign interest in how the kids and I are doing; that is, when they speak to me at all. Trust me, there's no love lost there. Not only do I still have that ax grinding from the past, there's the snarky pity in the future, and I can live without it all. I had to pass by them all several times today, knowing that they were discussing who I was and all that. Only two of them acknowledged my existence, one of whom seems to be pretty kind. As for the others, they avoided all eye contact and interaction, reinforcing what I had seen in the past. Still, as uncomfortable as I was, I plastered a "coffee group" smile on my face, was cheerful and laid back when spoken to, and resolved to save my grumbling for the blog. I could have been rude, and I sure as heck would not have minded putting one of them in her place (I've been waiting 19 years to get one particular thing off my chest). But I decided to choke it down, be an adult about it, and get on down the road. (At least, until I could come back here and blog about it! haha!!)

Humility is a crappy lesson to have to endure. Yes, we are all the better for it in the long run, but Lord, can't you just give us our full share without making us go through the learning process?!? I guess, if He did, the end result of our refining process would not be near as meaningful.

"By humility and the fear of the LORD are riches, and honor, and life." --Proverbs 22:4