The Academy Award
winning actress, Viola Davis, appeared on one of the guest segments of the NBC
Sunday Morning broadcast today.
Viola “grew up hard,”
and her path to fame was hard won. Her family was not only poor, but she said
they were so poor they were “po.” And she added, “Growing up poor included
living in some pretty nasty places; places which included the presence of
multiplied rats and roaches.”
Based on a couple of
photographs of Ms. Davis as a toddler, she has always possessed those amazingly
beautiful, yet equally amazingly sad eyes; (perhaps a result of “growing up po”).
As the broadcast segment
neared its conclusion, Viola made the comment,
“If you ain’t living a
life bigger than yourself, you ain’t doing nothing.”
The well-known actress
is involved in an effort to increase Americans’ understanding of Diabetes, and
with generating monies for research related to this disease.
Some would perceive her
foregoing statement as a rather odd perspective given her implication that her
“claim to fame” isn’t exactly “the bells and whistles” we see on the surface.
A life larger than
yourself
Viola’s words have the
greatest import, and she is backing it up with actions. (And, as I have
implied, “living large” for her is so much more than making movies, and
generating more money than most of us could ever spend).
As a believer, I think
all believers have been called to “live large.”
Pt. 2
Speaking of “living large” I once
wrote a blog which, at least for me, perfectly speaks to this concept. I have
included it, below…
There are certain movies that I watch
again and again. They simply never grow old.
“A Beautiful Mind”
“Jane Eyre”
“Driving Miss Daisy”
“Mr. Holland’s Opus”
Speaking of “Mr. Holland’s Opus,” I
love the closing scene. But to back up a bit.
Mr. Holland has served as a music
teacher in an Oregon high school for thirty years; having begun what he
described as a temporary “gig,” but at this stage passionately loving every
minute the job has afforded him. However, one day he is notified that, for lack
of funding, not only is his job being cut, but more importantly the entire
music program in his beloved school is being discontinued.
Of course, he experiences depression
and disillusionment, and we are witnesses as our hero, on his final day,
trudges into his classroom for the last time, and begins to pack a small box of
meager possessions.
As he finishes that solemn job, his
wife and adult son walk into the classroom, and they subsequently walk out
together. And as sad as this scene is, it would be sadder still if that was all
there was to it.
Pt. 3
However, as the trio approach the
front door of the school, Mr. Holland pauses. He hears music wafting from the
closed double doors of the auditorium; that same auditorium in which he has
previously conducted numerous musicals and benefits over the years.
Mr. Holland poses a question; almost
to himself.
“What is that?”
And with this, he turns to investigate
the dilemma; leaving his wife and son a few steps behind.
As the aged music teacher opens the
door, he seems momentarily confused. The auditorium is full of teachers,
students, community leaders and friends, and a large and colorful sign hangs
above the stage.
“Goodbye Mr. Holland!”
The frumpy little man catches his
breath, and seemingly in an instant the morose emotions which had recently
overwhelmed him flee away, and are replaced with a spirit of reflection and
gratitude.
An energetic dynamic and joyfulness
prevails in this place, and there can be little doubt that Glenn Holland has
impacted countless lives represented here. He has been not only a teacher, but
a leader; a mentor and a role model. He has contributed mightily to the
destinies of countless students, and bequeathed a rich legacy to those who
would follow in his footsteps.
Suddenly, the doors swing open again,
and in walks a vibrant red-headed woman, accompanied by a couple of highway
patrolmen. And Mr. Holland immediately recognizes “Gertrude Lang.”
Pt. 4
Gertrude was a former student, and
during her tenure here had struggled to master the clarinet. Her devoted
teacher suggested she come in before school and allow him to tutor her.
As the young lady places the reed into
her mouth and blows, the most horrendous excuse for music invades the air about
her. Mr. Holland displays the seeming patience of Job, and continues to work
with Gertrude, offering her a bit of guidance here, a story or metaphor there;
until she gets it right.
Even as this obviously adept and
confident woman strides towards the podium, she reflects on that day from so
long ago.
“What do you like most about yourself,
Miss Lang?”
To which she responds, “My hair.”
“Why is that Gertrude?”
The pale young redhead smiles, and
says, “My father says it reminds him of the sunset.”
Mr. Holland’s response is both
poignant and inspiring,
…“Play the sunset.”
And with that, a spark of insight
seems to envelope the teenage girl’s countenance, and with that Miss Lang’s
clarinet emits the most melodious notes which have ever escaped from it.
As the middle-aged woman mounts the
stage, the announcer’s voice booms across the auditorium.
“Teachers and students of Kennedy High
School, the honorable Gertrude Lang, Governor of the State of Oregon.”
Pt. 5
The governor stations herself behind
the microphone, smiles broadly towards her former teacher, and begins her
monologue,
“Mr. Holland had a great influence on
my life. On a lot of lives at Kennedy High School, I know. And I have the
feeling that he considers a great deal of his life misspent. He wrote this
symphony of his to be performed, possibly to make him rich or famous; probably
both. Well, he isn’t rich or famous; except in this little town.
He might even consider his life a
failure… but I think he has achieved a success which goes beyond mere riches or
fame. Look around you, Mr. Holland. For there is not a life in this room that
you have not touched. And each of us is a better person for meeting you, or for
being your student. This is your symphony, Mr. Holland. We are the notes and
melodies of your opus.
…We are the music of your life.”
Over the past few decades, God has
graciously provided me the opportunity to counsel thousands, (in a pastoral
counseling environment), teach hundreds, (at a local university), and mentor
dozens, (in the context of a formal discipleship program). And I acknowledge
not only that providential plan which allowed all of this to fall into place,
but the gracious wherewithal He has bestowed upon me to make a difference in
the lives of them whom He has set in my pathway.
And like Mr. Holland, I am neither
rich nor famous; not even in my little town. But I like to think that with all
my time and effort, I have irrevocably touched the lives which He has committed
to my care; in a profound and inestimable way.
And if this is the case, well, that
will be more than enough for me.
I may not be the most humble person
who ever walked the planet. I am too close to the thing to judge properly. But
I have often reminded my students that “it is okay to forget the messenger.
Just don’t forget the message.”
(and)
“My students are living messages to a
time that I will never see.”
Those whom I have had the marvelous
opportunity to teach, counsel, mentor and impact represent the notes and
melodies of my own opus.
…They are the music of my life.
by William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending
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