To Juanita’s credit, she didn’t blink an eye when I told her what I wanted. She gave Michael money to pay for the saxophone rental and told him to let her know how much the lessons cost. I was ecstatic! I love jazz and could picture myself up on a stage playing heart-quickening music with a soulful look on my face.
I wonder what my saxophone “teacher,” thought when this 27-year old woman with limited use of her left side walked into the studio for the first time. His eyes said he was unsure of what to do with me and when I think of it now, I have to laugh.
“What exactly is your objective?” he asked. I tried not to drool out of the left side of my mouth as I answered, “I want to play jazz.”
Thankfully, he didn’t laugh, flinch, blink an eye, or gag.
“Okay.” He walked over to a bookcase with music books on it, pulled out a book with the word “Jazz” written across the front of it in large black letters and handed it to me. The book was thick, but full of very simple songs.
I had loved playing the song flute in school and one of the reasons I was attracted to the sax was because I was told the fingering was pretty much the same so I thought it would be easy to learn. My teacher was about the same age as me. He patiently went through a very simple first lesson and then assigned me two songs in my book to practice.
I remember thinking over and over during that first lesson, “I’m so glad there is a strap holding up this instrument” because there was no way I would be able to lift it on my own.
I proudly took my book home. I practiced when I could and tried to fit in at least 15 minutes a day in between changing diapers, making bottles, etc. It was difficult mostly because any time I blew a note on the saxophone, Scotty would start crying. I was afraid I was going to traumatize the poor kid, but he was really adorable when he would pucker up.
When Scott was 11 months old, he started walking and could run away from my music. At his first birthday party, I “entertained” our guest with my very stilted, “jazzy” rendition of Happy Birthday. Unfortunately, I would have to stop and laugh after every few notes, so it was difficult to discern exactly what I was playing…and it didn’t even sound like a song at all. Our guests (all of our closest friends) laughed hysterically at me and it became an evening of fun.
A few weeks later, I took my saxophone to an adult Sunday school party to play for everyone. But found I could only play if I couldn't see them holding back the laughter. So I sat with my back to everyone, playing my stilted jazz pieces, stopping every few notes to laugh at myself.
I took lessons for four months before I realized that maybe this “jazz musician” persona wasn’t going to materialize. I think everyone breathed a sigh of relief when I finally gave it up—especially my teacher, Scotty, and probably Juanita. But, it was fun trying something new and I learned through that experience that it was important to keep my mind working. I felt better when I was being challenged and I noticed the more I did academically (like reading musical notes), the more my comprehension improved.
Michael and I talked about this and decided that since I could read again and I was really missing my special education kids, that maybe I should go back to school and start working on my certification to teach. There was an extension of Purdue University about a mile from our house. I met with a counselor there to find out what classes I would have to take in order to be certified to teach regular education. I loved teaching Special Education, but Rowena had suggested I try regular education as well.
After I met with the counselor, I stopped by my best friend’s place to share my excitement about going to school.
“Did you wear that jacket the whole time you met with the counselor?” Roseann asked me.
“Yes,” I answered, puzzled as to what that had to do with going back to school, “I have to take a science class this summer, but he said it was only a 3-week course and I can get 3 credits in 3 weeks! Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah, Lori, that’s great. Are you stopping anywhere before you go home?” she asked. Once again, I was puzzled by her question.
“Well, I need to get some gas and Michael wanted me to pick up a few groceries, why?”
“You might want to turn your jacket right side out. Just a suggestion.” she smiled.
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