by Cindy Nguyen
M
One Cool Orch Dork
y forkful of fries clattered haphazardly against its dish. The chefs behind the counter gasped—I could scarcely see their pupils dilating. Was that drop of sweat on their brow from the stove heat or from my friend and ex-teacher, Arlene Miyata? Just one bite of her ahi tuna melt had her arch back in her bar stool, eliciting unceremonious sounds. “Should we call for medical attention,” one of the chefs frantically questioned. Arlene dismissed his remark with a wave. “It’s,” she began, “so 1
good!” The chefs and I had never been more startled at someone’s first bite reaction. In the car ride home, she drummed her fingers to the sound of the radio, perfectly on beat, chirping “That was a really good lunch.” I would say her passion for music was less heart attack-inducing, but that would be far from the truth. With precision, Arlene places the final block to complete her Harry Potter Lego set. In the same manner, her hand slowly drops with the orchestra in a sustained decrescendo as a hush descends. “Okay, do it again.”
Her lego blocks may groan as they reset themselves, but she was their bulldozer, paving a path of foundation and giving them direction. When astray, she pushes them back on track and helps them in any way she can— advice, tough love, or a cookie. She encourages their passion and expressionism. In turn, they develop skill sets found outside of the classroom setting, applicable in the real world and proven through research, becoming stronger in academic studies. She teaches them the meaning of fun, perseverance,
and understanding themselves by “helping them shape into a better character for society and for themselves” through music. As a friend and mentor, Arlene is an individual who devotes her life to teaching others music and asks for nothing in return, save for perhaps a pudding. Elvis Presley’s sultry voice echoed against the walls in a suburban home in San 2
Leandro. A young girl and her father sat beside the radio, singing along to Houndog. It became one of Arlene’s first exposures to music and has stayed with her since. Reaching the fourth grade, Arlene took up the violin and in high school, marching band, actively involved in the music programs every year. Up until her second year in college, she double majored in computer engineering and music, unsure of what to pursue. A trip to the hospital later due to intense stress and being unhappy with engineering, she dedicated her college years to majoring solely in music. In that same year, Arlene began instructing marching bands and found she enjoyed sharing her passion in music with other kids. For the next eighteen years, Arlene has been instructing orchestras, percussion, symphonic bands, and marching bands in various high schools and middle schools. She has directed Arroyo High School’s winter percussion program for the last thirteen years and parttimed at Crittenden starting in 2009. Beginning the 2013 school year, Arlene is now a full-time music teacher at Crittenden and plans on continuing to work with Arroyo’s winter percussion.
q
Instead of an engagement ring, your husband gave you a cello?
A
Yeah, he asked me, “Would you rather get an engagement ring or a cello?” I said, “Which one is going to be more expensive?” ... I think I shopped around for three months for a cello before I settled on the one I wanted.
q A Q
You still have it, right? I still have the cello. Johann. I named my cello Johann. Johann?
A
Yeah, I always name my cello. My other cello that I borrowed from school was called Chip, because he had a lot of chips on his face (laughs). This one is Johann. I don’t know why I said Johann. I think it was ‘cause I was thinking of The Smurfs because there’s this character from the old cartoon that I like—Johann.
Q
Oh, I thought you liked it because of Pachelbel’s Canon or something (laughs).
A
No, no. (groans) No… That’s my funeral march.
“Let the air flow through your pits.” Arlene
explained, earning an “ew” or “gross” from a hearty portion of her orchestra. I nearly choked
“
bowing against a wall so you have something to stop your hand,” She did a demonstration against the carpeted wall. “but that’s going to hurt after a while
She's not uptight at all. She's just very relaxed and makes music fun. And I think that's what's important for a music teacher. Music needs to be fun, it can't be serious hard work.
”
— LEANNE RZEPIELA on my coffee at her juxtaposition with correct violin posture, but arguing with that logic was difficult considering it was valid and quite frankly, true. Turning my head in a full circle, I took in the entire band room. On a far off corner of the purple carpeted wall, there was a chart comparing a Jedi Master and a conductor, both having the same responsibilities and authorities checked off. My eyebrows quirked, attempting to read the details and I set my coffee cup down to exhale a laugh after hearing the Jedi Master exclaim “You’re squishing Mr. Sluggie!” When her students were well and adjusted, air flowed through pits, invisible slugs were no longer endangered, and fairies flew about. Arlene started them off with a bowing warm up with various tempos. Noticing most of her orchestra unable to accommodate sixteenth notes at a faster tempo, she stopped them to give tips for at-home practice sessions. “Practice 3
so you’ll need a cushion. Maybe your younger sibling’s face.” Laughter settled in the room, each student’s face alight with mirth. Her baton poised, the orchestra attempted their sixteenth notes with a new image to consider. The difference was blatant and they played together with the metronome in the background. Satisfied, Arlene sat back in her high chair to sip from her water bottle. Looking from her drink and back to her students, a thought occurred to her. “Have I told you guys the story of the spider in my water?” The orchestra shook their heads in unison, a handful voicing their disgust of spiders.
“There I was drinking from my water bottle and I felt something tickle my lips,” she said, her students relaxing in their chairs as she shared. “And I looked into my water and found a huge garden spider floating in there.” A few audible gasps were heard. “So I spat out my water and it hit most of the first row.” Delivering her punch line to the story, a comical “ew” swept through the kids and Arlene chortled at their horrified reactions to her story. “Okay, I’m passing out a new piece for us to play.” She went from laughs to business in seconds. Not abruptly, but quick enough where her students had a balance between
intense, concentrated practice and having a good laugh as a reward. I never noticed any awkward silences that would sometimes happen in a classroom, or if it happened, Arlene had probably blown a raspberry to break the tension and moved on. Rehearsal itself was fun humorous, keeping the kids at the edge of the seats, and it wasn’t only for posture. One look at Arlene’s facial expressions as she conducted let the orchestra gauge exactly how their intonation was and how together they were. If she cut them off and blew a raspberry or screeched, they knew she found a section that needed work. It became a reinforced learning tool. The kids had to perform their best to ensure their conductor would not make strange sounds or expressions. A runthrough
4
without one flatulent noise let them know they had a good show. June afternoon, Arlene and I prepared to tackle our dessert by picking up our iPhones before our forks; a routine we both fell into whenever we dined. Part of our routine included Arlene refusing to let me pay the bill and had me decide on orders. We welcomed the plate of golden stacked toast into our company. Topping the thick cut bread, the weight of the whipped cream had the toast droop into a whimpering mess under our eager looks with an added delightful giggle from Arlene. Drizzles of chocolate and honey delicately adorned the plate. Slices of fresh fruit were encircled the scoop of green tea gelato at its center, topped with a maraschino cherry. We couldn’t
resist the temptation to post such a masterpiece on Facebook, earning envious remarks from our band and orchestra friends.
“
I’ve seen her work with students and their struggling and just the way she approached the subject matter. She explained it in a clear and concise way that students are easily able to understand—and I’ve seen those students just brighten up like a light bulb went off.
”
— Vernon Miyata Dessert demolished, Arlene triplet tapped her dashboard toward a former student’s home by their request. A day off for Arlene wasn’t really a day off. If there was music, she would be there. Guilty by association, I tagged along to hear Pearl and Mateo practice their duet for an upcoming recital. The ride itself was serene, as we were both in a smallscaled food coma. The only conversation we held was the rhythmic finger-tapping to the radio and wisps of tickling wind rushing in from the lowered windows. A mention of restaurants we had yet to venture became syncopated notes during the trip, ending on a chord progression of one day going to Washington for doughnuts as we pulled into a parking spot. Arlene discovered a
lightsaber in Pearl’s home and was more than ecstatic for her find, imitating the sound effects heard from the Star Wars movies as she waved the toy in the air contently. What was supposed to be her overseeing two students practice a duet turned into an opportunity for her to be a Jedi Master. They laughed at her antics and resumed playing one of Johann Sebastian Bach’s masterpieces. I relaxed into the eighth notes being passed between the two, but twinged at a horribly sharp G halfway in. Before I could consider reacting, I nearly panicked at Arlene’s screech. The music stopped and the two had a dubious look on their faces. What I assumed was an impersonation of Chewbacca, was merely her reacting to their sour note. Setting The Force aside, Arlene critiqued their performance thus far. She pointed out each note they seemed to have difficulty playing in tune, how to better harmonize, and to watch their technique to sync with one another more seamlessly. They attempted Bach again and Arlene would appropriately groan to any mistake she caught. Seeing her lightsaber forgotten, I pretended to be a Jedi Master myself, vaguely watching Arlene instruct Pearl on her hand positionings. Making whooshing sounds of my own with the lightsaber, the motto “Work hard, play hard” appeared in my mind. Looking back at Arlene, now leaning into
5
the couch, I figured her motto was more along the lines of “Play hard, play harder.” When she’s not in teacher-mode, she’s off in the mall working her second job at Pottery Barn Kids, as she likes to call herself a “workaholic.” Pay does not motivate Arlene to take on a job and even volunteers as a staff member for FanimeCon, one of the largest anime conventions in North America, with the upcoming year being her ninth year. No matter her responsibilities, Arlene can always make time for eating delicious foods and dining in new restaurants. Her hobbies of baking, collecting figurines, and watching anime on the side are not neglected either. Her life is a simple, but happy one: doing what she is passionate about. Yes, that even includes getting Star Wars bedsheet sets from Pottery Barn Kids at a discount price.
Her
“
greatest
passion?
I live,
Eat,
breathe teaching— and I
love it.”