I was never one to be in trouble. In high school my favorite band was Stan Kenton, my friends and I carpooled to youth orchestra, I made Honor Society, graduated from college magna cum laude, participated in every ensemble known to man. Didn't date, didn't drink, didn't smoke, never grounded, never had a curfew, no babies, no tattoos, no addictions, no scars. I was a good girl and not, I think, because I love to be submissive and do as I'm told. (I can hear those that know me laughing out loud. LOL!!) No, I chose this path because it was objectively productive. I questioned the rules and the rules answered well so I followed them, I didn't follow the rules to attain goodness. After questioning the rules and having them answer I had a certain clarity and could find justification to break a rule if I thought it was necessary. On the other hand, I could accept rules that I didn't always agree with if they served a purpose greater by following them than not following them. I believed in the concept of the common good, giving up some freedoms to create order and contribute to a society that strives to be fair. I like operating under those conditions, it feels safe, not like a fight or a competition but like a collaboration or cooperation.
This is why I did so well in school because the rules made sense. There were standards set forth clearly, I met and exceeded them, got a grade and I had no question about how to succeed. Give me a deadline and I will be the first to finish, ready to move on to the next task, never even thought to ask for an extension. I might have been naïve to think that these qualities would serve me well in the professional world, but I'm pretty sure my mentors and teachers told me these were valuable qualities in the professional world. Come prepared, always be on time or even better, be early, be courteous and always have a pencil. What I witnessed in my professional career, though, put the lie to this ideal as I found so many men working in my field who took pride in doing the opposite: not being prepared, not being early, not being courteous and never having a pencil. It never came to bite them in the ass, they were always first call. Their secret to success? They were loud, they were funny* and they demanded things. Why didn't my teachers prepare me?
I was working on playing loudly, but I was still far behind the mark. These guys were so good, they could play probably five times louder than me. Did it sound good? Did I mention LOUD=GOOD, so yeah, they were really good!
I do have a sense of humor and can be quite funny. The thing is though, I would find that I was not nearly as funny as the loud guy who repeated my witticism right after me. So not only should I have been upping my loudness game on the trombone, but also, perhaps more importantly, in my voice. I have a hard time with that too because when I get loud, people think I'm angry and then there's the matter of tone. How to describe it...hmmm...maybe, SHRILL? Oh, to be a man!
Yes, to be a man would have helped with the third in the trifecta of traits for success: Demanding things. No matter how many times I saw it happen, I could never wrap my head around how it worked, never cracked that nut. Am I a bad feminist to say that it is not in my nature to demand things? It doesn't seem logical that that should work and yet I saw it happen over and over again. I caved to it too, I had a colleague who literally yelled at me demanding I bring him the excess lettuce from my garden (as I had done before in an effort to be nice and not waste my fortunate bounty). "Kirsten!! Where's my lettuce!!!?" he screamed. I complied because it seemed like he would really enjoy it. Then he told me he forgot it in his car and it turned into a slimy mess and I vowed to do better to resist the next time he screamed a demand at me.
Not everyone, certainly not those in power at the army band, took my tack of trying to resist the loud voice who demanded things. The most slothful, flatulent, inconsiderate, unkempt, unreliable, undisciplined, underhanded, uncouth, abusive, odiferous, obtuse, ornery man could demand to be promoted and it would happen because he stated that he "needed" it. Was he loud? Check. Was he funny? Check. Demand of thing? Check. Success! You are promoted.
My husband reminds me that when I came to the army band I was "all gung-ho." (Is that still a phrase that's used? Is it racist? Anyway,) I shy away from that description because it suggests that I had a blind loyalty. I did not. As usual, I was given a framework of rules and I applied myself to following them with a clear-eyed understanding of why I was following them, either because they were logical or contributed to the greater good. In the army many of the rules fit into the latter category and the greater good was better read as enforcement of the institution.
Nevertheless, I signed up and I knew what I signed up for: money and benefits. Honestly, the exchange was pretty advantageous to me; if I followed all the rules, I would be allowed to play my instrument for a living and if I did it for 20 years, they would still pay me in retirement and I would be free to live as I like as an starting at the ripe old age of 47. As I see it, that was an offer I couldn't refuse, a bargain in fact. Many of their rules I had already chosen to live by: I didn't do drugs, I stayed fit, I obeyed the law, I was disciplined, I could follow orders.
I was also excited by the opportunity to engage in a historical tradition, one that fit my instrument well. When a band plays music outdoors, it is uniquely suited to that venue as there is no better sounding band than the one that you hear from a great distance, the lovely strains of "Eternal Father Strong to Save" wafting across the grassy expanses of Arlington National Cemetery. I find it perhaps the most emotionally moving expression of which a band is capable.
The work also seemed honest. We performed at funerals to honor soldiers who either died in combat or after retiring from the service and every religious or non-religious accommodation could be met. Our performance was part of the transaction for that individual's service, the part where the nation and the service provides a ceremonial display of gratitude. The music was not meant to be artful, it was meant to be serviceable. I found honesty in being used to create utilitarian music and it's not like I didn't have plenty of time to enjoy a creative life in music, there was time for that too.
The job on paper made a lot of sense. I understood, I accepted. So why then did I end up in so much trouble? I still don't understand and can't accept.
*Please see the post "Warning: Humor Ahead" for more details.
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