The Notes & Melodies of my Life

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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.

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.” 

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.”

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, teach hundreds and mentor dozens. 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 have been the music of my life.

  

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 4. Copyright Vol.s 1-15, 2015
 

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