A remarkable bluegrass music teacher had came up with a general plan, a few weeks ago, to have youngsters interview older adults in their communities about the "old days" and then, after discussion, to write songs that highlight lessons from the interviews that are relevant to the young peoples' lives today. In communities where bluegrass music is part of the culture, the songs would be bluegrass style; and in communities where blues are part of the culture, the songs would be blues style. And, then, as a final step the bluegrass people and the blues people would get together for some joint songwriting and performing.
When some of the bluegrass musicians at the Chestnut Festival heard this idea about combining bluegrass and blues, they became highly enthusiastic. And they became even more enthusiastic when somebody mentioned the sizable community across the mountain from Linefork where blues music is very much alive and well. The bluegrassers have already contacted the blues people, and the two communities are at work. I don't think there's any way to stop this music initiative -- too many people are too excited.
What does the music project have to do with the Chestnut trees? Plenty. Some seven or eight years ago two elementary school principals learned about the Chestnut restoration initiative, and they agreed that this offered an excellent opportunity to connect young people with the real life in their communities. Those two principals -- both of them were highly respected women nearing retirement age, and one of them was principal of the Kingdom Come school -- visited the local volunteer fire department to enlist the support of the firemen. The firemen were happy to participate and, as one result, firemen escorted Kingdom Come students, in groups of three or four, to interview adults who were old enough to remember the Chestnut trees before the blight came. (Videos of those interviews are now treasured parts of the community's archives.)
As a result of the firemen's becoming involved with the school, a Chestnut Festival was started, jointly sponsored by the school and the fire department. The Festival went well, growing each year, but misfortune hit and the school was closed. (I need not elaborate about the school closing -- the closing was unrelated to the Chestnut project.) The community was saddened, but after a few weeks some citizens, led by members of the fire department, became determined to pull itself together. And the community has, indeed,pulled itself together.
The school property is now in the hands of the community. The building is in a good state of repair (thanks largely to volunteers). There's lots of music and lots of other happy things. And, beyond being happy, the people in that little community are demonstrating, for all the world to see, what can happen when people come together in a spirit of love and trust for each other. The community will soon have the first major planting in Kentucky of blight resistant Chestnut seedlings. And the community will, I'm willing to bet, have a bluegrass-blues music project that connects races in a beautiful and powerful way. And those are just some of the things that will be happening at Linefork.
I think I've said enough, at least for now, about the importance of young people being connected with active adult mentors in their communities. Other people have long been saying essentially what I'm saying, and they say it far better than I can. Just a while ago, as an example, I got an e-mail from a friend that quoted a professor named Nel Noddings. The quotation, which is eloquent, ended with this sentence: "In direct opposition to the current emphasis on academic standards, a national curriculum, and national assessment, I have argued that our main educational aim should be to encourage the growth of competent, caring, loving and lovable people".
Let's take a bit of liberty with what the professor is saying: let's assume that she believes that the children matter. The people at Linefork agree fully -- they, too, believe the children matter. But there is a crucially important difference: the people at Linefork are motivated by the children mattering-- it is this fact that the children matter that is responsible for the things that are happening at Linefork. In the case of Dr. Noddings, however, her words about children mattering are likely to be processed through the top-down world of political bureaucracies. And that processing does what George Orwell's pigs did when they added the words "but some animals are more equal than others" to their original sign that said "All animals are equal".
When government hierarchies issue their mandates -- one of my friends says we ought to call them "fiats" -- those mandates have the effect of saying that children matter but that hierarchies matter more. At Linefork there is the absence of hierarchies and their fiats. I believe it is that absence, above all, that makes Linefork special.
Our blog can and should (I believe) call attention to situations where children genuinely do matter (situations such as Linefork). But we also have the job of finding and shining lights on people and organizations that treat children as if they don't matter day and this is the toughest job. We need everybody, teachers and communities. And we need to find ways to liberate expert scholars from having their work distorted by hierarchies -- we need such people asNel Noddings working with such communities as Linefork.
I'll be out of pocket for a few days.
Bob Cornett
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