Peace, Love, and Landfill Joy

Peace.  The Atlas Music Makers, a distinguished, motley crew of 28 fourth and fifth graders, and I had the unique and once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for most to provide the musical entertainment for Martin Luther King Day in mid-January. We practiced diligently every Wednesday morning from October to the present, learning our performance pieces and preparing for the event. We teamed up with Lake City High School’s top choir and even scored a professional live band, thanks to some

Renee Kurtz

local musicians' generous gift of time and talent.  I spent a whole class period with every grade level, covering MLK and his vision, underscoring the importance of kindness, getting along with others whether you like them or not, and singing the songs.  One of my favorite parts of the lesson was a short video clip from a child who called himself Kid President, telling us to treat everyone every day like it’s their birthday. I love that we, as teachers, influencers, role models, parents, and citizens, get a whole day to focus on the importance of striving for a peaceful existence with others in a far-from-calm world. Finding the good, being grateful for all things, and adjusting quickly and without unnecessary drama when life doesn’t go as planned takes a lot of practice. Teaching children these skills is crucial to living a more peaceful life, and I’m glad I get to participate in it each year. Our performance went without a hitch; 28 kids felt like movie stars on the big stage at NIC in front of 800 people, and they now think we need a live band for all future performances. 🙂

Love.  Ahhhh.  Valentine’s Day is my favorite day of the year.  I love everything about it.  Adding to my love of the day is that I see ~450 kids a week, and they bring me cards, pictures, chocolate, and candy hearts (well, I take back my previous statement.  I do not like candy hearts). I know I’m preaching to the choir here (which I also do every Thursday night at 6:30 if you’d like to come and join us!), but real love has nothing to do with the tangible things we receive on the celebrated day. Real love is the guy that gets up every morning and makes the coffee just the way I like it, makes sure the car is full of gas every week because I don’t particularly like doing it myself, makes dinner every night because I have piano students until 7, fills out the FAFSA forms every year, does all of the taxes because I only like spending the money, not keeping track of it, brings me home a cinnamon roll that I don’t have to share with anyone from the Saturday Morning Men’s Breakfast Club, and never complains about anything. It’s the worker at the grocery store who just seems to be able to tell that if you get beeped one more time at the self-check kiosk, you’ll be leaving with no groceries at all and offers to finish scanning all of your items.  Love is the classroom aide who steps in to help the child who is utterly irate at not getting to play the triangle on every single song.  My world is FULL of love. Sometimes, you just have to learn how to look for it differently.

Landfill Joy. For some reason, probably because I don’t do taxes, I’ve always been the family member who takes care of everything regarding the dump or the landfill, as it’s ceremoniously referred to here in CdA. I’ve been to these locations in Illinois, Missouri, Colorado, and Idaho. If you’ve never been to the landfill here, you have no idea what you are missing.  It’s like the Queen of all landfills.  There are huge containers labeled for all the recycling, large signs giving directions for whatever type of treasures you are discarding, and people around to help or answer questions.  It’s like the post office - they always know the answer and have what you need.  However, my favorite people at the landfill are the workers at the beginning and the end.  These workers are the friendliest, happiest people you’ll meet daily.  I go often enough that some of the regulars recognize me. We discuss the license plate on my car, the weather, where on earth I could come up with this much cardboard, and how I got it in my vehicle…you know, essential things in daily life. Their job is not glamorous. Sometimes it’s cold. Sometimes it’s hot. Sometimes, their sleeves are soaked from reaching out in the rain to give you the little pink card. (I love the card - it tells you not to put it in your mouth on the back side).  Regardless of the conditions, they are joyful.  They have found a way to enjoy what they do, the people they encounter, and the smells they breathe all day.  It’s amazing.  I consider myself a reasonably joy-filled person, but if I worked at the landfill, I imagine I’d have to dig a lot deeper when people start bringing in their Christmas trees and the line is backed up for a mile on Ramsey Blvd. Every time I leave the dump, I’m reminded to find the joy.  I think they should have personnel at the glass recycling bin across the street so I could interact with them there, too.

It’s all in your perspective.

In His name, Renee