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There’s no way this has ever happened before, but I was in class today and I found myself thinking, Holy crap, I wish everyone would shut the fuck up. I haven’t been to  one of these classes yet and had the desire to crack a joke, either–something that’s been a part of my relationship with education since I had recess.

It’s just that whenever people conduct or sing along with the people who can’t quite get it right yet, the people having trouble in the first place start having more trouble. And I want them to get it right so we can move on. I want more, I want to move faster. I want to leave all the slow people behind and get to all the stuff I don’t know, to all the things I can’t do yet.

This class–Sight Reading and Musicianship Level 1–only meets once a week for an hour and fifteen minutes. It’s like my sanctuary, a period where I learn a language I’ve loved for a long time but have never spoken. It’s probably like going through first grade but this time without imitating Cookie Monster or deciding not to tease Kaitlin with my miraculous highlighter collection or without building a subway system out of toilet paper rolls. Just me, some books with dots in them, a voice recorder, a notepad, a mechanical pencil and a no-talking hex brewing in my head aimed at everyone but my professor.

That is, I don’t hate everyone else, I just want them to catch up. This is my friends and family, my literacy, my bread and water, my ceiling: it feels like I can’t live without this shit.


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