Unpacking Mr. Bauguess

I moved to Colorado during my Junior year of high school.

I figured I'd keep up with the music portion of my education, since music was the only reason I went to school most days.

While living in Butthump,Oregon, I had four music classes. I spent the first half of the day every day in the band/choir room. 2 bands, 2 choirs. One regular class for each, one advanced.

I loved both things quite a bit, but singing was my favorite thing.

Often even a simple song would cause me to be a little tearful because of the harmony and the blend and the sheer joy of being part of it.

I practiced my parts over and over and over, even singing them as I walked home from school.
We'd work on a new song, and I couldn't rest until I had the alto part perfect.

Sometimes I had to hear where my part fit in to get it just right, but within a few rehearsals, I always had it memorized and was exactly note-perfect.

It didn't feel like work at all.

It brought me so much happiness.

If you've ever done it, you understand. If not, I could never describe it adequately. But music was my anchor. The thing that kept me going. My reason.

When I signed up for classes at my new school, signing up for the regular choir was no problem. I was told I had to audition for the advanced choir, though.
I wasn't apprehensive, I had auditioned before.

I went to see the choir teacher, Mr.David Bauguess.

He didn't give me a piece of music to sing.

Instead, he had me stand next to the piano and drew some notes on a staff.

Then, he wanted me to sing do,re, mi on the proper lines and in the proper intervals.

It didn't take long for him to decide that since I could not do that, I was "just not a very good singer". His words. He said he didn't need people who could not sight read immediately, because "otherwise, we won't win at contest. And you don't project your voice, either."

Then, he spun around on the stool and began chatting with a couple students who were standing around. Just like that, he dismissed me.

Bauguess, you asshole, that was really a shitty thing to do. Even if you didn't want me in your choir because winning was so important to you, how much would it have cost you to be decent about it?

To say, "Well, we do a lot of sight singing in this choir, and I don't think you're ready to be in it. Perhaps you could join the sight-singing class after school and sing with us next school year."

How would treating me with respect have diminished you?

You didn't have to be a jerk. Really.

I wasn't planning to make a career in music, you see. I just wanted to sing. And I know I don't have a world-class voice. But I *can* sing. I also know I would have worked very hard for you and brought something special to the group.

But with your callous attitude and arrogance, you caused me hurt.

I wonder how many other times you didn't bother with even a semblance of politeness or respect to the students in your classes.

How many kids missed out on the whole music experience because they were put off by your attitude or dismissed by you because winning was the only thing you cared about?

I ended up in Southern California a few years after graduation.

Joined a community theater group, and sang with them for several years.

They loved my audition.

They gave me several great parts, and I had a wonderful time with them. They were kind people, too.

I have gotten past the experience. Gone on with my life. It's not even that big a deal anymore most of the time.

But you were a real jerk.

If I had been able to better express myself at 17, I would have told you that being kind costs a person nothing. That simple respect is an amazing thing. That the inability to treat people gently is actually a weakness on your part, and that your shitty treatment of me affected me profoundly at a very difficult and awful time in my life. You took away my anchor.

Thanks, dickhead.

**Edited to add***

I googled his name. There's a book/CD about sightsinging that has his name on it. He's retired from teaching and is now a dickhead who tunes pianos.
Funny.