12/9/24
I recently learned that my emails are a hit with a certain A3 physics class at Timpanogos High School, taught by a certain intelligent, unnamed teacher. Shout out to those guys. If you think being a missionary is hard work, you have not taken AP Physics 1. I avoided that class, opting instead for AP Physics C back in the day. Calculus makes physics a little easier, probably because it was invented to do just that. Anyways, this email is not sponsored by the Advanced Placement program. Or maybe it is. You'll never know.
I have become employed again. For the second time, I will be doing employer engagement and recruiter experience for the Office of Careers and Experiential Learning at BYU. They were happy to have me back (thanks Beth) and I was happy to go back. This week I figured out how to automate a job report because I was too future-lazy to want to do it manually every time. It was so worth it, assuming it works.
I have to register for classes again. In the comments below, let me know what I should major in! Just kidding. Engineering saps a heck of a lot of time; I want to take cool classes like math or songwriting or film or something, but engineering doesn't let you because there are too many classes to take in order to graduate in the program. Maybe I'll speedrun a math degree and then do engineering at the graduate level. Or some AI company will hire my mathematics to help them take over the world.
A current set of themes in my life at the moment are the arts. I went to see 2 more productions this week: my sisters performed in The Nutcracker and my mom's cousin played the lead role in a community theater performance of The Music Man. I will talk about my sisters first because they are more important, I guess, and because I have less to say.
The Nutcracker was a 1 hour, 30 minute performance of a classic ballet. I was sad to see the unhealthy weight of the main character, Clara. Homegirl was like 12 years old and thought she needed to be thinner than a reed. I am sure ballet had something to do with that. Hazel performed with a younger girl who was maybe 4, and she said that the girl fell asleep on her lap after she went on. I guess waving her hands was too exhaustive.
(Before I talk about The Music Man, I'd like to mention that Violet asked me today if I was ever embarrassed of my car. I just said "it's better than no car." Don't tell her the answer was yes and is about 15% of the reason I do not talk to young women.)
The Music Man was written by Meredith Willson and premiered on Broadway in 1957. Set in River City, Iowa, a clever con man Harold Hill arrives to sell brass instruments and uniforms. He plants rumors in the town about pool halls fostering all kinds of bad behavior in boys and girls, then suggests that a brass band might be just what the town needs to save them from their demise. He makes himself the band director, much to the dismay of Marian Paroo, the librarian (actually inspired by Marian Seeley, a medical records librarian from Provo, UT), who already teaches piano. She figures he is a fraud and sees right through his bogus degree and flashy grin, but when her younger socially reclusive brother Winthrop becomes excited about joining a band, she holds out a little longer. In true Broadway fashion, she develops feelings for him, and when the town realizes he isn't actually a band director and plans to leave town before the instruments even arrive, she defends him. Just in the nick of time, the instruments arrive and the children don their uniforms to play a horrendous rendition of Minuet in G. Despite its grating nature, the parents are enraptured and are happy to see their children in the band.
Now that you've read a quick summary, I can talk about the part that had immense rhetorical value for me.
Just before the instruments arrive and the townspeople are going to do awful things to Hill for taking their money, an enraged Mayor Shinn asks a particularly poignant question to Hill: "Where's the band? Where's the band?!" All these people expect something. They have been promised a band; they've invested time, money, and a whole lot of hope into something that never existed. The fact that they wanted it to be true didn't change the fact that Harold Hill was not a band director and that the children had no idea how to play instruments. It didn't change that all Hill was after originally was money. Hill also claimed to have developed the "THINK Method", a musical system that involves only thinking about the notes and how you would play them if you could without ever touching the instrument.
The result of this fraud was still a band, albeit a terrible one. The people were still so happy to see their children proud of themselves and part of something bigger than themselves. They were even willing to forgive Hill for taking exorbitant amounts of money and planning to skip town at the first chance he got.
Watching the play did not make me like Hill. I thought he wasn't a very good guy, always advancing on Marian. He didn't give the people their money back and he still seemed ingenuine. Despite his nature, the people defended him because of what he gave them, even though he had never planned for it to be real in the first place.
Perhaps it has to do with recent events, but I immediately thought of the early LDS Church and the Great Enlightenment period. What band were they promised? They were promised eternal life and a blessed existence. The promised land became their promised band as they traveled west under some slightly shady leaders. In a way, Hill was what I would expect Joseph Smith to look like.
Let me write a disclaimer. I am in no way implying anything about the truthfulness of the gospel of Christ or the actual veracity of the Book of Mormon or the life of Christ or any of that... so don't misconstrue my intent. I am comparing the people, places, and circumstances. After all, there were real uniforms and real instruments.
Hill was not a great guy by most standards. He provided himself much adulation. He was highly self-serving. He believed he alone had the ability to convince River City to join his band. If I dare argue, the founder of our church was not particularly virtuous either. In 1843, Emma Smith burned a manuscript copy of the revelation now in D&C 132, after saying it seemed pretty contrary to what had already been established. Joseph then produced the aforementioned revelation that stated it was okay, and she pretty much said, "Yeah, right," and burned it.
Hill's pushiness reminded me of the "Happiness Letter". This letter was dictated after Smith proposed to a then 19 year old Nancy Rigdon in the locked upper floor of the Red Brick Store. Without context, this letter contains fairly good advice. With context, it's pretty terrible.
Why am I telling you this? If you read those paragraphs without any explanation, you'd probably think, "wow, this guy hates the church and he is starting to embrace some pretty antagonistic stuff". You would be incorrect on both fronts. I am trying to convey the point that it isn't a bad idea to consider things. These things did happen, and a pretty successful global organization came out of it. Although Hill was pretty awful, he did produce a band. He did give everyone instruments and uniforms and help them feel like they were really a part of a band. Was it as pretty and grand and flawless as he said it would be? No. Not at all. In fact, it was pretty horrible. When the Saints headed west to Utah, was anything good? Again, no. I daresay it was worse than the band. However, they did get land and the freedom to worship how they wanted. The children of River City did get shiny brass instruments. It made them feel like they had really done something.
What band are we promised individually? What flawless, golden life are we assured we can have, so long as we (and our families and friends) keep our covenants and stay in line? If you are or ever have been a part of the church, you know exactly what I'm talking about. When the person next to you plays a flat instead of a sharps, it sounds with the whole band, your whole band. Suddenly things aren't so fair. "My band sounds bad," you'd think. If I could get you to realize anything, it is that you aren't supposed to have the band. It's just you and your instrument. If one can play their part well because they practiced and made it meaningful, they've done everything they could.
Indulge me for a minute and hear me out the other part of my metaphor. Your band is your life, but you only have two hands and one mouth. You can't play all the instruments. One must play what you can get behind as best they can with what they've learned from the other instruments in their band and encourage them to play as best they can. It is not your job to play the saxophone; you are a trumpet player. Realize that even though it is your band, it isn't your band, and that your only job is to get as good as you can at playing your trumpet, tuba, or euphonium. Maybe you are a Lutheran clarinet, or a Roman Orthodox oboe, or a Hindustani sitar. Do that as best you can. If you find yourself better suited to trombone, that's fine! Be a little bit better father, brother, sister, friend, or companion. Every player needs rhythm, that's universal. Every person needs kindness, regardless of creed. Some people might have felt out of place in the band, so maybe they took up painting instead. That's fine too. They can still make something beautiful. You can't compare it with a flute solo because they just aren't the same substance, but they can approach similar levels of dedication and mastery.
Even though Hill wasn't a good guy, he started a band. The band made people feel like they were a part of something. Maybe he learned how to be a good person later because of the band. We don't know. We don't get that part of the story. Where is your band? Well, it's here, right now.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is why you ought to engage with plays, books, art, and scripture. It can teach things that you might never learn otherwise. It is also why I like my flip phone. Instead of ogling at a glass box, I thought about what I'd just watched. Cool, isn't it?
Excuse my use of the second person point of view throughout this email. It felt appropriate to address the audience.
I hope you enjoyed reading this. I enjoy writing them. If you have any topics you'd like me to say something about next week, let me know! I can answer just you, or, if you think it would be something that everyone ought to consider, I might anonymously toss your question in my weekly email. Send me something and what you want me to do with it.
Of course, I love hearing from all of you anyways, regardless of what it's about. Send me an update or something.
I feel like I'm forgetting something... but I don't remember what it is.
Those are my thoughts as of late. I'd love to know what you think.
Your friendly neighborhood Employer Engagement Specialist,
Will Ott
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