Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Five years and two days ago, I had the two longest nights of my life. Lisa woke me up at 3:00 in the morning, and told me that she was having trouble breathing. I had been working 60+ hours a week between my full time job and teaching part time at the College. The weeks leading up to that night had been high stress and had taken a high toll on me, and at 3:00 a.m., I wasn’t in a clear state of mind. In a moment that I will regret for the rest of my life, I told Lisa that she was having an anxiety attack, to just slow her breathing, and get some sleep. I then said that we already had an appointment at the hospital at 7:00 a.m. for another reason, and if she was still having issues, they could help her then. And then, I rolled over on my side and went back to sleep.
At 6:00 a.m. I woke up to find Lisa silently crying, and I asked if she had gotten any sleep at all. She gently shook her head and whispered “no.” I asked if she was feeling any better and she gently shook her head and whispered “no.” She slowly lifted her head, looked me in the eye and asked me if she was going to die. Lisa is a strong woman, and in that moment, I had never seen her so hurt, so frail and so scared. In that moment, I was paralyzed with my own fear, my own insecurities, and my own guilt that I hadn’t sought help for her sooner.
We got to the hospital, and she told the doctor about her problems getting enough air. The doctor immediately ordered some tests, and came back to us with the news we were dreading. The clot that had been in her leg the last 43 days, had indeed broken free, and shot to her lungs. It was no longer a deep vein thrombrosis, it was now a pulmonary embolism. The doctor called it a “Significant” clot, and that it was straddling the major blood vessel that leads to her lungs right by her heart. Currently, it was straddling both lungs like a saddlebag on the back of a horse, but she was in terrible danger. At any moment, it could slide off and go to her lungs, her heart, or her brain. With the clot being as big as it was, there was a very "significant" chance that if it moved further, it would be fatal.
The hospital didn’t have the ability to treat her, so they called an ambulance and she would be transferred to the University of Utah hospital, about 15 miles away in Salt Lake City, Utah. I was told to get her some items from home, call our loved ones, and then meet her at the U hospital. In a whirlwind of activity, the doctors swiftly moved Lisa to a gurney, started her on oxygen, and began to hook up wires from Lisa’s body to their machines. Shortly after, Lisa was being loaded into the back of the ambulance, and she began to cry since I couldn’t ride with her. I told her to be strong, that I would be there as soon as I could, and that I was jealous she got to ride in an ambulance I didn’t. We made a few stupid jokes to try and lighten each other’s spirits, and then they closed the doors and she was gone.
I stood in the parking lot in shock for about 5 minutes, and then said a quick and silent prayer that the love of my life would be safely transported to the U, and that the clot wouldn’t be shaken loose on the way to the hospital, and would be alive when I arrived.
I called family members and tried to quickly give them the details of what had occurred. I didn’t have many answers to their questions, as they were the same questions I had. How “significant” was the clot? What were the chances of her making a full recovery? What would we do if she didn’t make it? I had to call my work and the College and explain why I wouldn’t be there that day, and I didn’t know when I would be back at all.
I gathered a few personal belongings and rushed to the University. There, I found Lisa with IV’s running, wires connected to her chest, oxygen tubes in her nose, and a very scared young woman. The doctor came in and told us the clot was “significant”, and that they would begin giving her very large amounts of blood thinners. Currently, her blood/oxygen ratio was 60%, which is the equivalent of being in the death zone at the summit of Mount Everest. There is a reason that few climbers attempt the summit without oxygen tanks strapped to their backs. He told us that we very blessed, as the clot was barely small enough to allow some blood to continue to her lungs. Any larger, and it would have blocked the blood vessel completely, and chances of death were “significant.”
He then told us, we were extremely blessed that the clot was barely large enough to have lodged exactly where it did, because if it was any smaller, it would have shot to a lung, her heart or her brain. He said there was a “significant” probability that she would not have survived any of those scenarios.
They would work to dissolve the clot, and then monitor her for any other small clots that may still be in her body. There was a chance that debris from the first clot breaking free could be floating around, as well as the chance that as the clot dissolved with the blood thinners, it could break free again. All of these things were a “significant” risk to her. There was that word again, and from a different doctor. I was quickly realizing that the word “significant” was a very bad and scary word.
Because of these fears, the doctor wanted to place a piece of flexible metal, shaped like an umbrella, into her blood vessel above the clot. It would act as a filter, and allow blood to flow through, but catch any larger clots before it could reach her heart or brain. She also still had to have the procedure we were already scheduled for, and they determined that the risk of not having it in place was greater than the potential issues of the surgery.
So, once again, Lisa was taken away from me, and I had to just wait in the room for her return. With no smart phone, no internet, no magazines, and a TV that had only a handful of channels of either soap operas or news, it was a very long time to wait. It felt like there wasn’t going to be a bottom to this day, but we would just keep on falling. Every time a doctor or nurse would walk by the door, my heart would skip a beat and I was afraid they were returning to tell me the worst.
After what seemed an eternity, Lisa was wheeled back into the room. As I leaned over to hug her, she grasped me with all her strength and sobbed. Tears flowed down her cheeks, as she struggled to breathe deep. She had to be awake for the entire procedure. They had given her a general anesthetic to keep her from moving and to relax her, but she was aware of the entire thing. The made an incision in her groin, and slowly maneuvered a camera in a tube through her body. They could then move the metal umbrella through the tube and put it into place. They had to be careful to embed the piece into the artery wall to hold it in place, but not to punch through the lining and cause major bleeding issues.
The surgery was a success and the umbrella mesh was in place. The FDA had just approved a new instrument that could be removed after a few days when the danger from the clots had passed. If we had come a week before, Lisa would have had a permanent metal umbrella in her chest and would never be able to go through a metal detector without a doctor’s note again. Later that afternoon, the doctors returned and Lisa had the procedure we had originally been scheduled for. That also, went off without a hitch, but we were not out of danger yet, and all we could do was just stay in the hospital several days to make sure the blood clot was dissolved. I only left her side to get food at the cafeteria or make a call to family and work, and to use the restroom.
That whole day, I was screaming inside, but I couldn’t show that to Lisa. I was trying to crack some jokes, to give encouragement, to be strong for her. But that afternoon, as Lisa finally, blessedly, fell asleep, I stepped out of the room. I walked like a zombie down the hallway, and found a bathroom with a locking door. After turning the lock, I leaned against the door and slowly slid to the floor. I sobbed like a baby, and rolled into the fetal position, thinking about how close I was to losing my wife that day. I don’t know how long I was there, but I finally pulled myself together, washed my face, and composed myself the best I could. I couldn’t go back and let Lisa know I had lost it. I was probably there a few hours, but it was at the end of a back hallway, and no one bothered me.
That night, the doctors let me sleep in her room, as there wasn’t a second patient staying there. I couldn’t sleep in the other bed due to hospital procedures, but a nurse brought me a floor mat. I lay down on the hard floor and listened to Lisa snoring softly and around 2:00 a.m., I finally drifted off. The nurses came every 2 hours to draw her blood and test it, and at 3:00, a new nurse was on shift. He didn’t know I was staying with her, and as he came around the corner of her bed, he stepped on my head. Luckily, he didn’t fall, and other than being startled and having a ringing ear, I was ok. I wasn’t able to go back to sleep that night. The University hospital has done major renovations since we were there, and now each room has a bed for a loved one to use for overnight stays. There are desks and high speed internet, so people can be with a loved one and still work. But that night, all I needed was a mat and a chair, I wasn’t leaving for the world.
A few days later, Lisa was declared safe, and she underwent another procedure to remove the umbrella. The doctor made a small incision in the jugular in her neck, and snaked the camera down to the umbrella, detached it from the walls of her artery, and slowly removed it, and stitched up the wound. Once again, Lisa was awake for the procedure and she distinctly remembers hearing the head doctor said “We’re doing great, but I need everyone paying very close attention, as we are nearing the aorta, and we need to be very careful here.” Lisa had to listen to this, while not moving and just waiting for it all to end. A few hours later, we were able to go home.
Due to a genetic disorder that causes her blood to clot very easily, Lisa was now going to have to take blood thinners and wear compression stockings daily. It was unusual for us at first, but we became accustomed to it, as it was better than the alternative. She gets her blood drawn every six weeks at the University and they give her blood a number that says if her blood is too thin, (which Lisa says means she is sloshy), if the blood is too thick, or if the blood is just right. 99% of the time, it’s just right, but if it’s too sloshy, she misses a dose for a day or two. If it’s too thick, she gets to eat some broccoli. We adapt.
Lisa's the most amazing woman, and I am so lucky to have her in my life. It was the longest 2 days/nights of my life, and I learned a lot about myself in those dark hours. What it meant to love someone, what it would be like to lose them. Every day, I strive to be a better person, a better husband a better friend to her. I don’t always succeed, but I try. She saved my life on more than one occasion, and I am so very grateful to the doctors, nurses and staff at the University Hospital that were able to save hers. But, I am most grateful for her spirit, for her laughter and her love and the chance to share that every day.
Since that time, Lisa has written and published 4 novels, and is working on a fifth. Her writing has won "Book of the Year" twice from Foreword Reviews, and the Benjamin Franklin award from the Independent Book Publishers Association. We have traveled to New York City, New Orleans, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, and Seattle. We have eaten delicious food like beignets at the Cafe Du Monde in the French Quarter, the world's best hot chocolate at the Napa Rose in Anaheim, authentic New York Cheesecake in Little Italy, New York. We have attended live concerts in SLC, road tripped to see others out of state. We got to meet artists like Dilana and Chad Gracey and Danielle Barbe. We road The Cyclone roller coaster at Coney Island, and fed alligators in the swamps of New Orleans. We attended the largest Hindu "Color Festival" in the United States, and we have taken numerous silly pictures with our nieces and nephew. She took a picture of me pretending to lick the gum wall in Seattle, and I took her picture with copyright infringement Spider Man. We started a charity and raised over $2,500 for a friend in need and are gearing up for our next fundraiser. We made and met friends like James and Laurie, we attended University of Utah football and basketball games, we still have the most spoiled cat in the world. We went on vacation with family, and with friends like James, Cindi, Jen, Siobhan, Stacey and Steve. We attended the taping of two episodes of "The Big Bang Theory" and you can distinctly hear my laugh in both episodes. We toured Warner Brothers Studios and watched "Wreck it Ralph" in the El Capitan Theater - the same place Citizen Kane had it's Hollywood debut. In short, we have lived and we have laughed and we have loved. Sometimes I wish we could do it all again, but then I realize that I can through memories and pictures. Even better, I get to go make new memories with her every day. Adventure is out there, and we are going to Carpe the crap out of every diem we've got.
Those few days five years ago changed us both forever. But, I’m grateful for the experience. It brought us closer and made me reflect on our relationship. I realize more than ever how fragile this thing called life is. I realize how quickly our worlds can change. I realize how vital her love is to me. I realize that it’s my duty and responsibility to be worthy of that love. I don’t always succeed, but I strive daily to achieve it. To some, it may seem small, but it's "significant" to me.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
My teaching career all started with a phone call, and my life was changed forever after.
In the spring of 1999, I was a graduate of the University of Utah with a BA in Film Studies. During my time at the U, I had chosen to take the production route to graduation, and not so much the academic track. Meaning that I wanted to work on making movies, and not necessarily teach others about movies.
I was working as the manager at Book Warehouse, recently married, and looking desperately for a job in film and video production. I was sending my resume out to anyone I could think of, and I was asking friends and family to do the same. If anyone had even the slightest connection to editing, producing, creating films or videos, I was interested in speaking with them.
One day, while working at the bookstore, I received a phone call from Tyler Morgan asking if I was interested in teaching the English 270, Genres of Film class at LDS Business College in Salt Lake City, Utah. I politely told him that he must have the wrong individual because I was interested in making films, not teaching about them. He then proceeded to read my resume back to me and confirm that he had the correct Tracy Mangum. (Not that there are many of us.) He had my resume, but I had never applied for this position. I asked him how he had received it, and he replied that he couldn't remember, but he had meant to call me for weeks since I was such a strong candidate. He was extremely interested in having me come to the College for an interview, but I wasn't as sure that I was qualified. I kept trying to politely refuse, but he was insistent that we at least meet in person and see what they had to offer me. I told him that he was most likely wasting his time, but I would indeed meet with him in person at the College in two days' time.
I hung up the phone, shook my head, and tried to laugh the whole thing off. I kept telling myself that it wasn't for me, that I wasn't qualified, etc. I had never taken any classes on how to teach; I had never followed that path in my studies; I didn't know how to put together a lesson plan. I just wasn't meant to be a teacher.
But there was a little voice in my head that wouldn't be drowned out. The voice that thought this would be an amazing opportunity. That I should fake it until I made it. I couldn't shake the thought and the longer it stayed, the more I wasn't sure I wanted it to leave.
Two days later, I met with Tyler at his office at the College. It was a beautiful mansion on South Temple that had been converted into a school, and was so unique, I feel in love with it immediately.
The very first thing Tyler asked me was "If you were to teach this class, would the students have to take tests?"
This took me aback for a moment, and I wondered if this was a trick question.
"Of course they would take tests."
"Would they have to write papers?" was the next question he asked me.
"Absolutely, at least one at midterm and one at the final."
Tyler gave a large sigh of relief and smiled at me. It turns out that the previous professor had been showing films to students with a few minutes of lecture before and after, and that was the extent of work that he and the students were putting into the course. He wasn't giving tests, preparing lectures and discussions, wasn't taking roll, and wasn't testing the students in any way, shape, or form. The College had discovered this from students in the course who had complained that while the course was fun, it was too easy and they didn't feel challenged.
This was my first inkling that this College and these students were something special. At most schools, the students would do everything in their power to not let administration find out that they watched movies, never did homework and got A's with no work. The students at LDSBC were the opposite. They demanded to be challenged, to be taught knowledge and not just receive a grade.
My meeting with Tyler lasted almost an hour, and we discussed everything from how I would teach the class, to what movies I loved, to family, etc. The class would be 8 weeks in the summer and would meet two nights a week. I would be paid a flat amount, and it would be a test run for both myself and the College. If I was good, if I liked it, if the College liked me, and the students were happy, I would be offered another contract for the fall of that year. At the end of the meeting, Tyler shook my hand and asked if I was interested in the job. I told him that I was interested, but I wanted to think about it, and to discuss it with my wife. He agreed, but asked if I could have an answer for him by the end of the week. The College needed 5 students enrolled in order for the class to move forward, and he wanted a professor locked down before they opened enrollment to students.
I went home with a grin on my face, and I couldn't stop the entire day.
Lisa and I discussed the options, and we finally agreed to give it a go. I could share something that I loved, it the small amount I would earn would be fun money for us to take a trip to Disneyland or something we wouldn't have done otherwise.
That first semester, we ended up with 8 students enrolled, and the class went live. I was a nervous wreck the entire time. I didn't know how to use Powerpoint, so I hand wrote out notes on a dry erase board. I had VHS tapes and laser discs at my disposal. I shared my love of Citizen Kane and how Orson Welles created this masterpiece of a film. I shared information on what all those jobs at the end of the credits meant. I shared with them how filmmakers can completely change the emotion of a scene through manipulative editing. I shared with the students films with themes of hope and redemption like The Mission, and films that were silent, but poignant and hilarious like Buster Keaton's The General. I shared with them the pure happiness Gene Kelly expresses in the key scene of Singin' in the Rain. I shared with them that film can transport you to another world for a few hours. That film had the ability to entertain, but it also had the ability to teach, to enlighten, to move you and make you think. I wouldn't accept the notion that films were only there to "turn off your brain," I wanted them to use their brain and engage their heart and expand their soul through film.
I got to class early every single night, in order to spend 30 minutes alone before the students arrived, telling myself that I could do this, that I was giving them what they needed and that it was all for the good. I had to give myself a pep talk to quell the nerves and to put on my bravest face so that my students would never know the panic that bubbled just below the surface of my smile. It often surprises people as they get to know me to learn that I am not a confident person. I have a lot of fear and doubt, and I am the king of self-sabotage. I have tried very hard in my life to quell those negative voices and to push down the self-doubt. I am much better than I used to be, but back then especially, the terror and self-doubt lay right below the veneer of a confident and knowledgable professor.
The semester ended, and I was on top of the world. The student feedback was extremely strong, the College was thrilled with my work, and I was addicted. Standing before those students and sharing something that I loved so much, sharing the magic and power of cinema just felt so right. It was like I was meant to do this, and I didn't ever want to give it up.
The College offered me another semester in the Winter, and this time, it would be 2 classes. One offered at 7:40 in the morning on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and then Thursday nights from 6:00-9:00 p.m. To the surprise of all of us involved, the word of the class had spread and enrollment went through the roof. We had 25 in the morning and 15 at night within a week of open enrollment. By the time the semester started, I had capped out at 30 in the morning and had 22 in the night class. Tyler was thrilled, and I was scared out of my mind. Teaching 8 kids was one thing, but 52? Really? Could I do that?
Not only did I do it, but I was good at it. Once again, student feedback was some of the highest at the College. I was having students stay after class for 20-30 minutes to talk about what we discussed in class, or the newest movie out in theaters. The students found the class challenging, but fair and interesting. They said I opened their minds in new directions. That I made them see movies in a new light. That they were grateful they took the class. That I made them feel as if I cared about each one of them individually and weren't just another student to me. That meant the most to me, because that was what I was trying to develop. I didn't want them to take a class where they just hid in the back and slept. I didn't want want them to just memorize facts and spit them back onto paper for the test. I wanted them to learn and think and to love cinema the way I did.
As I continued to be hired at the College for semester after semester, I expanded my teaching style. I would spend hours at home working on Powerpoint presentations. I would pull clips of different scenes from different movies to show the class to demonstrate an editing technique, or how the focus shifted in a scene to reveal new information. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into preparing new things for the class, and I tried to put a little of my soul into each presentation. The class enrollment grew to 40 students in each section, so I was now teaching 80 students a semester, and I loved each and every one. I really did.
You see, Lisa and I can't have any children of our own. We did in-vitro twice and were unsuccessful, but on the 3rd and final try, Lisa became pregnant with twins. Shortly into the pregnancy, Lisa developed a blood clot in her leg, and it broke free and lodged in her lungs. Her blood oxygen levels dropped to 60%, which is the equivalent to being on the top of Everest without supplemental oxygen tanks. We lost the twins, and Lisa almost lost her life. The doctors afterword told us that to try again would be too risky to Lisa, and we agreed. So, my students became my kids. Some of my kids became my friends, and some of those friends became some of my closest and most dear friends.
After the scare with Lisa, I began to give a final lecture to my students. I took a class period to discuss my thoughts on film and my philosophy on life. I included clips from Ratatouille to demonstrate that they can do whatever they dream possible. I showed clips from Wall-e to show that even the dorky garbage man can win the heart of the beautiful and graceful woman. I pulled clips from Bowfinger and Searching for Bobby Fischer to show scenes that I wanted to show in class and didn't get a chance to share. And then at the end, I got really personal. I shared with them that even though I was terrified I would lose my wife that night when the large blood clot moved to her lungs, I knew that I loved her, and more importantly, she knew I loved her. That we had lived our lives with love, with laughter and happiness and had no regrets. If she had was to leave my life permanently, I knew that we loved each other and that was enough to get us through that terrible night. I told my students to go home that night and to tell someone that they loved them. To pick up the phone and call a parent, a sibling, or anyone else they could think of. You never know when you may never get that chance again. I told them that I loved them. Each and every one of them. They taught me more than I ever taught them, and that I loved every moment I got to spend with them. Even after a day that started with me teaching downtown at 7:40 a.m. and that day ending with my night class and getting home around 10:00 -11:00 p.m., I was never tired after teaching. In fact, I would often come home and have dinner with Lisa and watch a little T.V. to come down from my high.
A few days later, a letter arrived at the College with a note from a student that she was so touched from my class and that final lecture, she had drawn a picture for Lisa and me, as a thank you. I opened the manilla envelope and I was overcome with emotion and tears. It was a beautiful drawing and the fact that she would draw this for me and Lisa again demonstrated how amazing the students at this college are.
One semester, I handed out a study guide for the final to a student in the front row and asked him to pass it from student to student. I accidentally had 2 copies of the final exam mixed in the pile of paper and within seconds of discovering that they had copies of the test, both students that received it came up to me separately and said, "I don't think I'm supposed to have this" and gave the test back to me. Most college students who received a copy of the final early would have quietly thanked their lucky stars and just slipped it into a folder and gotten an A on the exam several days later.
The students at LDSBC are remarkable. They have a hunger for learning and have an integrity to them. These students are the next generation and I know they will do great things. They look out for one another, they help lift each other up to greater heights, and it's been a pleasure to experience that firsthand.
A few years back, I was informed that the College would no longer be offering English 270 - Genres of Film, because it wasn't a core class and was simply an elective. The College needed to focus students more on their 2-year certificates and were cutting any classes that didn't move students towards those certificates. I was devastated. I had put over 10 years into this class, the enrollment was among the highest at the College, and my feedback was consistently some of the best they received. But there was simply no room for this class anymore, and it looked as if my time at the College was coming to an end. I taught my final film class during a summer semester, and I invited my family to attend. It was an amazing night, as only Lisa had ever attended any of my classes. I spoke about love, hope, and leading an honorable life. I talked about how film could move and inspire. That for those 2+ hours of the movie, you could move into another dimension and be transported to amazing worlds and dreams and imagination. I spoke about Ingmar Bergman and his belief that each of his films was a glimpse into his soul at that time. That once you took his entire library of films, you would see his life and his soul. I spoke about how it's hard to share your soul to critics and paying audience members....and how this metaphor applied to films as well as film professors. I tried to put myself into every class, into each story, into each slide of a Powerpoint. I spoke about how much this College meant to me, and how it had changed my life forever. How people like Tyler were amazing to work for and with, that students found me on Facebook and shared stories of how my class changed them.
On student was from Africa and had only watched two movies in his entire life before my class, both of which he watched on the airplane on his way to attend school in Utah. He had now watched over 15 between the class and his free time, and he was hooked. He told me that he was transferring to BYU and was going into Nuclear Physics, but he was going to get a minor in film. And he wrote me a few years later, to say that was exactly what he had done.
On student shared with me that her family was from the area of South America that was shown in the film The Mission. She and her sister had not spoken to each other in years, but after watching the film in class, she felt compelled to call her sister and tell her about the film. They spoke on the phone for over an hour, and they got together later that week to watch the film together. After it ended, they then spent 3 hours discussing the film, the symbolism of overcoming and hope, and began a dialogue that began a healing process that brought them back together.
I had a student who had dropped out of college 20 years before to have children, and she wanted to complete her dream of being the first person in her family to graduate from college. She wasn't sure if she could go back to school after all these years, and she took my class as a test to see if she had the willpower, the strength, and the skill to go back to school. She wrote me a beautiful letter that said I gave her the confidence to go back full time the next semester. She graduated a little more than a year later with honors and completed her dream.
These stories touched my heart deeply and had only deepened my commitment to these students and to become the best teacher I could become. But now, it was all coming to an end.
Except it wasn't.
At the eleventh hour, the College managed to find another class for me. It was IT 151, Visual Communications. I had been working over the last number of years in online marketing, graphic design, web design, layout, etc., and would be a good fit for this class.
I was lucky enough to have taught that class for the last 2 years. Students made business cards, flyers, portfolios, etc. and I was able to continue to make a difference in student's lives.
Then earlier this summer, the College announced it would be offering a brand-new two-year degree in photography and asked if I would help create the teaching materials and teach this course. I was over the moon. I would teach a night class two nights a week, and teach beginning photography and Photoshop. I worked throughout the spring on materials, and into the summer as well. Everything was going to work out perfectly.
Except it wasn't.
Due to a variety of personal and professional reasons, this last week I had to make one of the hardest decisions in my life. I had to withdraw my name from teaching the courses. It wasn't a decision made lightly, and after many weeks of soul searching, it became clear that it was the correct decision.
My heart was broken, and my soul was shattered.
I felt like I was deserting and abandoning my future kids. There were two students who had signed up for the class that had taken IT 151 and were excited to be my students again. I wrote them both personally this weekend to deliver the news, and to apologize that I won't be there for them this semester. Both were understanding, and I am so grateful.
I want to make it clear that this decision had NOTHING to do with the College, and that I love and respect the institution and the faculty/staff there dearly. Tyler Morgan is one of the nicest men I have ever met, and he has taught me so much about living with class, dignity, and what it means to be a man of honor. Sue Hepworth has been a rock, and so patient with my scatterbrain self. Lynda Henry has been honest and fair and great to work with the last few years.
At this moment of my life, I don't know when or if I will be returning to the College. I hope I can, and I hope I will. I won't discuss details of what lead me here, but I will say it is the correct thing at this time, even as it breaks my heart. I will miss the energy, the discussions, the love. I will miss attending graduation where the faculty forms two parallel lines and applaud the students as they walk past into the Tabernacle for graduation ceremonies. A major piece of my soul has been removed and I don't know how I will fill it.
But I know that the College will find someone who will take that class to amazing heights, and I hope that someday in the not-too-distant future, I can be a part of it again.
This song is a theme song of life for me, and I've been returning to it often as I write this post. Because love remains, I will pay the price, but I will not count the cost.
I taught at the College for 13 years, and I would do it all again. And even though the pain of not being there is raw and deep, I will not count the cost. I will reflect back on the joy it has given me, and the students who changed my life, and the way it strengthened and enriched me. I hope that I was able to give back 1/100th of what I received. I move forward into another chapter in my life, and I face it with a smile and a knowledge that I can make that future whatever I want it to be. I hope that my future will bring me back to the College and to be able to teach there once again. But if I have lost it permanently, I know that I loved it, and I know the other faculty and staff, and especially the students, know how much I loved it and them. And that is enough.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
I first discovered the music of Danielle Barbe (Pronounced Barb) in the summer of 2010, when it was announced she would be an opening act for "The Gracious Few" on their nationwide tour. Normally I don't care about who an opening band is, let alone seek out their music before the show, but for some reason I found myself searching for Danielle Barbe on i-Tunes. After listening to the 30 second samples, I was interested enough to download the full album. It quickly became one of my favorites and I would find myself listening to it over and over during the work day.
Lisa and I saw Danielle open for "The Gracious Few" at the House of Blues in Anaheim, California. As good as her CD is, she was that much better live. From her captivating stage presence, to her soaring vocals, she wowed the crowd and was warmly received. Lisa and I met Danielle after the show and were able to express our appreciation of her music, and got a CD signed.
In the summer of 2011, Lisa and I were in New York City, and saw Danielle preform at the Rockwood Music Hall. It's a intimate little club in the lower east side, and after her one hour performance, Danielle was gracious enough to chat with us, and take a few photos with her.
She is an amazing vocalist and a very kind and fun loving individual. She agreed to allow me to interview her, and I have posted it below. Check out her music at www.daniellebarbe.com/
Let’s start off with a little background information. How did you get your start?
I started singing in church around the age of 6. I’d perform little songs for the holidays and my grandma, also a singer, would get me some performances in her church. I eventually joined school choir and started singing in musicals and plays. Then, my brother formed a band in high school and asked me to sing. That’s how I ended up, finally, singing rock music. I loved it so much that I never looked back…
How would you describe your music for those that haven't heard you before?
Catchy rock 'n roll. I really think my album has something for everyone, though.
Where do you draw your influences from?
When I was little, my dad put a lot of tapes in my hands. Because of him, I grew up listening to The Rolling Stones, Black Crowes, Sheryl Crow, Alanis, and a lot of other artists. I loved the male front people – like Steven Tyler, Mick Jagger, Marc Bolan… I just thought it was the coolest thing. We’d watch videos of those guys performing. I was pretty little, but I’m sure that influenced me. Nowadays I try to stay inspired. Whether it’s through music, fashion, art, anything. People are so creative! It’s pretty easy to stay inspired.
What genre of music is your least favorite?
Screamo. Sometimes I can appreciate it, but for the most part it just makes me nervous. I feel like the people are personally screaming at me. Gives me anxiety.
What music have you been listening to lately?
Lots of female artists I've loved for quite awhile and am now revisiting. A lot of Fiona Apple, Alanis, Feist, Sharon Jones, Sheryl Crow… It feels good to get back in touch with my ladies!
What is your favorite track off the album and why?
This varies from day to day. Today is an Explosive Minute day. I got into the car with one of my best friends and she was blasting it. It’s a good car jam.
What dream tour would you love to be on with any past or present bands?
Probably Foo Fighters. In my dreams, Dave Grohl is my husband. So talented and they put on an amazing live show.
|The Future Mr. Danielle Barbe?|
There have been a lot of great breaks and thankfully things just keep rolling in. I'm so grateful! Getting my song on the television show "Ghost Whisperer" and the "Vampires Suck" soundtrack was amazing. MTV picking up the video for "Ghost Town" was thrilling. And now playing Warped Tour…
Speaking of the Warped Tour, how is that going?
It was an amazing opportunity to be selected for. There were so many people at the event, out in the extreme heat, just because they love music and wanted to see bands.
How would you rate your live performance ability? Do you feel more comfortable live or in the studio?
I truly love performing live. I don’t think that could ever get old for me. I still get jitters right before, but it’s a good thing. Maybe this is weird, but I don’t want to ever get too comfortable. I’m afraid if I get too comfortable it means I’ve stopped pushing myself and stepping out of the box.
Your music seems very personal, and deals with subjects close to you. Is it difficult or scary sharing yourself in song and on stage?
It is very personal! It was incredibly scary for a long time... There are still certain moments where I feel very vulnerable writing about difficult experiences and about certain people. It's terrifying to put yourself out there! Once you take the first leap it gets easier and easier.
Why have you succeeded in an industry where so many others fail?
Perseverance. I believe that you have to have talent, but the ones who can really stick it out, and wait it out, are the ones who can make it.
What has been your favorite on stage moment?
Sharing the stage with Kevin Martin (Candlebox and The Gracious Few) was amazing. Love him! Warped Tour was very cool too. A very different experience.
What is the funniest/weirdest thing that has happened on the road?
There are a lot of great stories... One time we broke down near a small town in CA called Yreka. We couldn’t leave the van on so we were all freezing on the side of the dark road, hoping that AAA showed up. They never did. Finally the cops had to come get us and take us to a Best Western. Nobody in town could repair the van right away, so we ended up having to take a U-Haul to our next show. I’ll never forget the look on everyone’s faces when we pulled up in a U-Haul and I stepped out in my 4 inch heels and walked into the club.
What has been your favorite city to perform in and why?
Oh, I can’t pick just one! I loved Seattle and Portland. I had never been. The venues were very cool. In Seattle I got to play at Showbox, where so many well-known bands have performed in the past, and in Portland we performed in this place called The Wonder Ballroom. It really looked like an old ballroom or gym. Very unique.
What is the most unusal place you have ever played a show or made a recording?
I played a lot of funny places when I was starting out. Some grad parties… a motorcycle event… We pretty much recorded in garages. I think you have to do this kind of stuff. It teaches you how to perform under any conditions. Our old rehearsal space was in a big plant and had no air conditioning or heating. We’d have to rehearse in snowsuits in the wintertime. It was hilarious.
Check out Danielle's latest video "Wango Tango" here
If you could change one thing about the music industry, what would it be?
I feel like the industry is really changing at the moment... I'm just interested to see what happens. I'm along for the ride. I feel like artists can have a lot more control than they used to, and can do so many things independently, but we’re all just kind of figuring out what works and what doesn’t.
Where would you like to see yourself in five years as an artist? What are your long term goals?
I have to tell you that I’m very much the type of person who lives day-to-day. I’m impulsive and I like to enjoy all the little moments and I try not worry too much. I’m trying to make music that I truly believe in. I just want to keep growing as an artist and be able to do this every day. It’s a lot of work but it’s incredibly fun and rewarding.
How do you feel about file sharing or people recording your shows?
I'm fine with people recording the shows. I think it's amazing that people love the show enough to record it and take the time to upload it and share it with others. I do hope that people will buy my CD... You know, I have to make a living too. However, I'm glad it's reaching new ears everyday and that people are sharing it with others.
What is the best piece of advice you have been given?
Oh, I’ve been given a lot of good advice… A well-known singer told me to learn as much as I can, practice as much as I can, and then when I hit the stage, to just forget about it all. I feel that’s very true. You learn as much as you can until it’s ingrained in your memory and then you just let go.
If you were not a singer, what would you be doing?
I’d probably be a psychologist. That’s what I studied in college. Either that or designing. Interior design, graphic design, fashion design.. I love it all.
The video for Danielle's hit single "Ghost Town
Where would you like to visit on your next tour?
I’d love to go to the UK and play some dates.
When can fans expect new music or be able to see you on tour?
I’d say late fall. I’m always writing and working on new things, so we’ll see.
What aspect of making music excites you the most right now?
The promotion of my music is becoming very exciting. I love meeting all these new fans online and hearing their thoughts on my music.
What is your pet peeve and why?
About five minutes ago, I was wondering why so many people on Facebook badly crop someone next to them out of their profile picture and use it. I’d feel bad if I was that person’s friend and they cut half my face off.
One last question: Rock, Paper or Scissors and why?
Paper. So I could write. Sometimes words are the best, and wisest, weapon.
Thanks to the amazing Danielle Barbe for this interview! Check her out at www.DanielleBarbe.com and pick up her CD at iTunes