What the stars tell us about our future, and why we need to listen

Posted: Jan 19, 2010 at 5:04 AM [Jan 19, 2010]

The packed house of close to 2,000 adoring fans erupts as the lead singer drops to his knees and leans backward until his shoulder blades hit the stage, his microphone suspended above his mouth like a hamster’s thirst-quenching water bottle as he belts out a throaty and spirited cover of Queen’s Fat-bottomed Girls. Later in the evening, the crowd explodes again when another singer, swathed in Christmas lights and backed up by spooky-looking dancers who have been instructed to get their monster claws out, performs an “electric” rendition of Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance. The singers, respectively, are Leo Bayless-Hall and Schuyler Robinson and they’re two competitors in Pioneer High School’s annual must-see event, the Finals of the American Idol-styled talent show.

From Ryan Yunck’s compelling re-working of Billy Joel’s Piano Man, to Maia Gleason’s knock-out a-little-bit-country-little-bit-rock-n-roll-little-bit-something-nobody’s-ever-seen-before version of Bill Wither’s Lean on Me - with a smattering of acrobatic break-dancers, graceful ballet artists, could-be-professionally-choreographed Vegas lounge acts, flawless rappers and the fully orchestrated wow, you must be kidding spectacle of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody performed by a band called Space Cadet and fronted by the incomparable Hannah Pearlman in between - the performers are brilliant. Each and every one of them. When the judges can only shake their heads in bafflement after each performance and proclaim I don’t know what’s happening, the audience members are compelled to agree. It’s a night that’s beyond magic, beyond inspiring. It’s a night that’s redemptive, soul-feeding. The kind of night that makes me remember why being alive, even in the midst of this economic upheaval, in the midst of war and existential terrorist fear, in the shadow of a tragic and ravaging earthquake, is still such a gift, such a miracle.

Schmaltzy praise, I know. But it’s impossible to be a cynic when the teenagers on stage are performing not only with such expertise, but also with such unfettered and unashamed passion. There can be no greater tribute than hundreds of peers waving their lit-up cell-phones like candles when John Spalding - who would ultimately be selected as the winner of the competition - sings a heart-tugging rendition of Luther Vandross’ Dance With My Father. From my perch as a teacher, cell-phones are the ultimate symbol of disengagement, a teenager’s way of proclaiming that whatever’s spewing from my mouth compels a need to be distracted by something else. Anything else. When those same high-schoolers turn their screens around and angle them not at their own faces, but in the direction of the performer on stage, they are saying you have me, I can’t turn away.

The talent evident all night long is astounding enough. But what strikes me even more is how, as cool as the performers on stage are, being cool is not at all what they’re after. What they’re after is being fully alive in their moments, being totally present. I’m convinced that in the American public high school, it’s not good that’s the enemy of great. It’s cool. It’s the temptation to be emotionally detached, zoned out, dispassionate. To act like nothing is particularly worth committing one’s full effort. During Future Stars, all the performers are zoned in. They’ve practiced long and hard to get to that stage and they hit their cues and hit their notes and they do it with flourish. Their full efforts are as loud as the guitars and drums that accompany them.

To witness such commitment on the behalf of teenagers reinforces my belief that we need to be very careful about what we’re cutting during the current fiscal crisis. Eliminating programs in the arts, making kids pay to play sports or to participate in extra-curricular activities - these are bad ideas. Whatever makes kids passionate, whatever allows them to chip through the default façade of too-cool-to-care and to exhibit full engagement in what they’re doing - whether it’s running laps, spinning a potter’s wheel, taking photographs or shooting a basketball - these are the last things that should be cut.

Listen, we look at test scores in math and science around the world and we decry America’s standing. But if you read about what those countries with higher test scores are trying to do, you’ll discover they’re trying to somehow figure out how to emulate the environments in our schools that foster creativity and innovation. I know we need to fix our problems. I know we do need to do better in math and science, and reading and writing too. But, please, let’s not do so at the expense of what makes us great. When our kids - when any kids - are engaged; when they’re passionate about what they’re doing and unashamed to let their passion shine, that’s when they’re unstoppable. When they don’t have those chances to shine, to live fully in their moments, that’s when you find them getting stoned in the parking lot.

Our challenge is to put as much focus and as much sweat, as much preparation and passion, into figuring out solutions to our fiscal problems as these kids put into their performances. If we can do so without taking away what makes students want to shine, then, and only then, will we be worthy of applauding ourselves.

** NOTE - if you want to see more young people fully engaged in their passion - the next big poetry event coming up is when Ann Arbor Wordworks presents its annual poetry concert Homegrown at the Lydia Mendelssohn Theater in the Michigan League on Friday, January 29th. A whole bunch of poets of tremendous talent - including Maggie Ambrosino, Mike Moriarty, Ben Alfaro, Courtney Whittler, Aimee Le, Fiona Chamness, Gahl Liberzon, Brittany Floyd, Daniel Bigham, Maggie Hanks, Lauren Weston, Mike Kulick, Peggy Burrows, AJ McLittle, Chris Moriarty and Anthony Zick - will be rocking the stage. The show promises to be spectacular. It’ll run from approximately 7-9pm. The Mendelssohn is @ 911 N. University Ave., in downtown Ann Arbor. Tickets will be $5 for students in advance, or $7 at the door. $10 and $12 for members of the general public. To reserve tickets at the advanced price or for more information, email me @ eyelev21@aol.com or call me @ 734-223-7443. **

Jeff Kass teaches Creative Writing at Pioneer High School in Ann Arbor and at Eastern Michigan University in Ypsilanti, and directs the Literary Arts Programs at the Neutral Zone, including the VOLUME Youth Poetry Project, which meets every Thursday night at 7pm. He will post new blog entries every Tuesday and Thursday morning throughout the school year.