In search of Audrey

There is a small village in the Romandie (the French-speaking part of Switzerland) that I must visit. As most of you know, I visit small villages in Switzerland largely to share with others via social media or my books how amazing this country is. But, this visit is different.

Years ago, Audrey Hepburn’s final home chose her, the same way this beautiful country chose me years ago; however, I didn’t know this Hepburn fact until this past week, when I learned it by happenstance. As I told Pierre Beret (clearly, I don’t remember his name, just the lovely Swiss-French accent), I remember her from two things, one of which is her simple, straightforward rendition of “Moon River.” It has enchanted me since I was a child.

“We’re after the same rainbow’s end, waitin’ ’round the bend, my Huckleberry friend, Moon River and me.” By the way, that’s one of the greatest lines of all time, in my humble opinion (lyrics by Johnny Mercer and music by Henry Mancini).

Though it is truly one of my favorite songs, my other memory of her is the Audrey Hepburn I saw in a photo in the early 90’s holding children in Somalia. I remember the article said she did this amazing work to pay forward the kindness she was shown as a child during and after the war. So, her gratitude for the innate kindness of others is the reason she carried the title of UNICEF Ambassador from 1989 until her death? Exemplary.

Getting back to Switzerland for a moment, I can say one thing with certainty. When one full-heartedly adopts Switzerland as one’s home, it is painful to have to leave for any reason or any duration of time. This country’s majestic mountains, breathtaking lakes, cultural depth, peaceful anonymity – one feels somewhat lost under the glittering stars, even midday.

(Perhaps, it should be noted, very few people feel the way I do about Switzerland. Not even the Swiss people.)

Pierre Beret told me, during my stalled train ride from Lausanne, that Ms. Hepburn had a similar, deep love, enthusiasm, and appreciation for this country. My “enthusiasm,” which most people say is “obsession,” is what sparked our conversation, I was going on and on about how much I love Switzerland, like I always do.

During the final months of her life, though aware she was losing her battle with cancer, she left her beloved home, in the Alpine paradise, time and time again. She still wanted to help. To bring hope, joy, sunshine, and goodwill, so she packed her bags and continued to travel around the world on behalf of UNICEF.

That self-sacrifice required a great deal of character, sense of purpose, and strength. It’s truly inspirational to me because I would be hard-pressed to say “yes” to the promise of 10 million dollars if I would agree to leave Switzerland for at least one week every year. I’m not kidding.

Naturally, what is interesting to most people about her are the films, I certainly understand that. She was a truly unique and remarkable actress. But, I find her love of this great nation, her devotion to helping the impoverished and imperiled children in this world, and her desire to raise her own children in such a peaceful, promising place…I find that interesting.

Anyway, for the lady that shared my love for this country and helping women and children in need – white rose it is. Exquisite ladies who love Switzerland deserve my most exquisite tribute.

I wish I had the contact information for the sweet, chain-smoking older gentleman that told me these stories. Pierre Beret, if you do read this, please write to me? I promise to treat you to a coffee the next time.

White Streak

“Anne died.”

In October of 2010, I was singing in Palm Beach. I decided to take a brief trip to Pittsburgh to surprise my first favorite little guy on his birthday. Just as I boarded the plane, my phone rang with those two words you just read.

I’ve never talked about it much and I’ve never written about it on my blog. I still don’t know what to say or think or feel and it’s 4 1/2 years later. I think about Anne all the time. I stopped writing on her FB wall because I felt like people would think I was crazy, though they are the only people I’ve talked to about her.

I am plagued at least once a week with some gnagging “what if I’d only” type thought. For example, the last time I saw her, at the baptism of one of her nieces maybe?, we were in our church together. When we hugged each other that time, it was one of the few times in our decades-long friendship that she didn’t let go first. What that meant to be a sign?

If it was, I didn’t get it. Instead, months later, I got the call. I went to a funeral. Now, I can’t hug her or sing with her or laugh or cry or imagine what we’ll wear to her daughter’s wedding. She can’t tell me not to be such a goody-two-shoe-wearing nerd and I can’t tell her to take off all the black makeup and clothing and just apply herself (she was so smart).

I am overwhelmed, still, with such awareness of what the world lost that I cannot be really angry. This horrible pattern of “daughter loses her mother too young” was continued by Anne with her own daughter by choice…I can’t feel anything about that except such overwhelming sadness. If she’d pulled it together, everyone would have celebrated it because we all loved her so much. In return for our love, we are all left with that horrible loss of her smile, laughter, and voice.

Sorry, it’s an uncharacteristically sad ending for one of my posts. Here’s one of our favorite songs and this should bring a bit of joy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lN4BqEvb18M

Why “Bach” is almost always the right answer

I recall a course, during my time at SMU, taught by David R. Davidson. At the end of “Choral Literature,”  I wrote my paper about the B Minor Mass, by Johann Sebastian Bach (listen to one of my favorite choral songs in the entire repertoire of choral music, “Sanctus” from the B Minor Mass).

The reason I did so was simple. After a mere two years of musical studies, I knew the following to be a universal truth:

“There are very few things about life that cannot find their answer within the music of Bach.”

Feeling as though the entire world is against you and there is simply nothing in the discography of Britney Spears that speaks to you? Listen to: “Herr, Unser Herrscher” from the St. John’s Passion. You don’t need to understand German. Just listen.

Feeling euphoric because the man you love just fell to one knee and it wasn’t because he dropped something? Listen to: “Magnificat” from the Magnificat. Bach will rejoice with you the way he rejoiced when his 20 children (yep, you read it correctly) were born.

Road rage a problem for ya? Listen to: “Sheep may safely graze” and try to imagine yourself away from the concrete and idiots and on a pasture somewhere.

Work conundrum or, ha ha, did your child ask you why “because” is a real answer? Listen to something you’ve heard a million times: “Air” from the Orchestral Suite #3. There is so much wisdom in this piece of music that we listen to, no, we CLING to it today.

In times of strife. In times of celebration. When we mourn, we reach for Bach to hold us in his arms. How many weddings have you attended and heard “Jesu, Joy of Man’s…” sorry, I feel asleep for a minute. No, seriously. It’s a beautiful piece (I still think “Laudamus Te” is much more exciting. I mean, GET INVOLVED!)

There’s nothing cliché about Bach and he’s not merely “old school.” There’s life and vitality and newness of vision. This man had triumphs and a strong faith, but he suffered during his lifetime. A lot. He lost his first wife. Those 20 kids? He lost 10 of them before they reached adulthood. He walked over 300 miles to attend school and he walked hundreds of miles to hear concerts (blisters much?). Bach was in the pokey! He lost his hearing and he lost his vision (the surgery to save the latter, ultimately killed him). Bach feels your pain. He gets you, Bro.

Spend 40 days or a month going through the Goldberg Variations. If you listen to the Brandenberg Concerti and you are not changed, I think you don’t need a better listening device, you need a pacemaker.

A music library without Bach is like Monet’s palette without the color yellow. Put a few pieces in your library and listen to them. Start now. Click on this (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9Sbk3E8-ws) and disappear for a moment.

The Episcopal School of Dallas – a tribute from the Ayres siblings

How the Episcopal School of Dallas helped make us who we are

Written by: Jennifer (Class of ’91), Laura (Class of ’94), & Chris (Class of ’97) Ayres

We are writing this together as a tribute not only to the comprehensive, well-rounded education we received, but also as a way of saying “thank you” to our parents, who made that possible.

ESD_LOGO

LAA: What is something you learned during your time at ESD that seemed like “no big deal,” but sticks with you today? Brother, you start.

CSA: ESD taught me, from the start, I was going to have to work hard – harder than anyone else – if I wanted to keep up. There were lots of demands placed on us academically and if you wanted to do well, you had to put in the time.  Once I started doing that, I saw a direct correlation between the time/energy you invest and results you get.  If you’re lazy, then you’ll suffer the consequence.  If you work hard, you’ll generally see the reward.  When you struggle, if you not only persist but also crank up your focus and effort, you’ll get there.  Eventually, this led to a very steady, strong work ethic that translated to virtually every aspect of my life, and something I fall back on today.  Learning at ESD a desire to achieve the most you can with what you have and to compete hard, everyday, has served me well.

LAA: Good points. I echo the feeling of struggling at the beginning, and it was also one of my takeaways. The teachers (including the coaches) simply would not allow me to fail and something about their confidence in me made me want to work harder, to be more competitive, and present in all aspects of my learning. If I was sitting in the Commons goofing off during Study Hall, Rebecca Royall’s sliding door would open, she would barely look at me sideways, and I’d get back to work. Jen, what do you think?

JLA: The tenets of the school (ethical decision making, community, service to others, daily worship) stick with me today. You two have referenced it and it’s true – we live in a society that fosters competition and social comparisons and these tenets anchor us to what is truly important when we become distracted. What is interesting to me today is that the tenets do not reference academic learning or athletic skills or artistic talent, the things that were so important to us when we attended the school. It references living a life based on honor and giving to others.

LAA: I’m gonna interrupt because you’ve just hit on another thing that was unique about ESD – mandatory community service. Sorry to interrupt, but interrupting does run in the family. It was exceptional, right?

JLA: Yes, I’d forgotten about the community service requirements, but every student cleaned the school and there were multiple students cleaning the school everyday.

CSA: I think the true genius of ESD’s community service is impressing on kids, at a very early age, the important concept of service to others in a very “me”-driven society. That means serving others inside the school’s walls, as well as utilizing your gifts to serve the larger community outside of the school.

LAA: I certainly think most of us owe our cleaning skills (and obsession with quality carpentry) to Sandy “Mr. D” Donaldson.

JLA: True. Now that I think about it, I have typically been one of the people in my work environments who cleans up messes that others left behind. Even if I did not make the mess, I have a responsibility in ensuring that our shared space is clean and ready. How many times did we hear Mr. Donaldson say a variant of that sentence? Every student went off-site during senior year to dedicate time to a community agency that needed help. Volunteerism was modeled for us by Mom and Dad, but ESD taught us that it was not simply a family value. Every student went on the class retreats. Every student went to chapel everyday and Eucharist on Wednesday. Again, Mom and Dad taught us early the importance of weekly attendance at worship, but, again, ESD took that to another level by generalizing what we were learning at home.

CSA: Speaking of chapel, I loved sitting as an advisory in chapel and at lunch.

LAA: What else? Anything particularly special you remember?

CSA: Sure, but it’s really the simple, daily things. I loved bus-rides with my teammates. How the varsity always watched the junior varsity play.  Learning lessons and traditions from older role models and passing those things down to those in classes below me.  Admiring two people’s ability to learn the names of everyone in middle school or upper school so we could have a grub day.  I know everyone falls back on the main traditions – Pass it On, Senior Ring, Senior Shirt Exchange, Lesson and Carols, etc.  Those were and are all great.  But, for me, it was the cool things we did, day in and day out, that I remember most.

LAA: Jen, did you have any favorite traditions?

JLA: I liked the movie day (I think it was the Kevin Michael Hughey day, but the title might have been something else). I remember seeing Cry Freedom and Milagro Beanfield War. There was another one that I likely will remember later. I transferred to ESD from the public schools my sophomore year and I remember being so impressed with that tradition. The idea that the school would rent a movie theater and then return to the school to discuss the movie in small groups is so impressive to me today. I replicated this tradition in my current work environment for our all clinic retreat. One year we watched Shawshank Redemption and another year we watched a documentary entitled I Am. After the movie, the large group dispersed into small groups and answered questions I wrote to encourage personal reflection and application of the movie themes to our daily life.

LAA: I think I slept through one of the movies, unfortunately. I have only a vague recollection of Keanu Reeves in Much Ado about Nothing. Such a let-down after having read it with Dr. Hamlin. Anyway, what about a memory that was, perhaps, not easily formed, but was formative? Yiff, you go first.

JLA: I was a senior when Reed Flashnick (Class of ’92) killed himself. The school was so small at that point — 45 people in my class, perhaps 50 or so in his junior class — that, even though he was not a personal friend of mine, the effects of his suicide on people I cared about were overwhelming. I remember Tommy Whitlock’s trying to teach us math during first period with tears in his eyes and how dazed we all felt at that point. I remember Father Swann’s having the high school classes meet in the chapel after the Wednesday chapel service and telling us that it had been a suicide and that Reed left a note to his “ESD family.” I remember hearing that note read aloud. I remember the school’s saying that we could go home at anytime and signing myself out late morning. The sign-out list was so long and everyone had written “sick” for the reason. And we were all sick that day. I think for most of us it was the first time that we realized how discrepant what we see is from the lives people are actually living and not sharing. I came home that afternoon and my early acceptance letter from Emory was waiting in the mailbox.

LAA: It all comes together because now you help so many people in your profession, Jenny. Chris, what about you?

CSA: I was a freshman in Scott Kimball’s history class.  I also played baseball for him.  He came to me and asked me if I could help a girl in our class who was struggling.  I told him that I was swamped – too many commitments to classes, athletics, etc. – I just didn’t have the time.  I’ll never forget the look he gave me and can almost quote him verbatim: “I’m not asking you to help.  I’m telling you that you have an obligation.  When you are given gifts and you see others struggling, it is your responsibility to help.  You don’t get the choice to sit on the sideline or turn and walk away from people who need help. I don’t care that you’re busy.  And I don’t care than you don’t have the time.  Make the time and get it done.  Understood?” Enough said about a life-changing moment.

LAA: Mr. Kimball likes me more than he likes you.

CSA: That’s probably because you and Mr. Kimball share a common love of music. You sing with your voice and he can play songs with his teeth.

LAA: My moment is actually about your classmate, Chris. I think everyone that met Zach Bell (Class of ’97) adored him (and Betty Jo and David Bell). Zach was really sick during 1992-1993 and complications due to CF kept him out of school quite a bit. Betty Jo told me he was a bit nervous to return and I couldn’t have that. So, I got Mark Lanyon (Sr. Class President, ‘93), Brian Wharton (Student Body President, ‘93), and Krissy McAtee (Class of ’93) to go to his house with me and we told him we’d be really excited if he returned. It was a great afternoon and one I will never forget. Because we took the time to tell him and show him, Zach knew he important to the fabric of our school. For me? That was the heart of ESD in that moment. I thought of it as I sang “On Eagle’s Wings” at his funeral.

Actually, since graduation, I have sung at the weddings of ESD classmates and I have sung at the funerals of ESD classmates. During the ESD years, it’s difficult to truly grasp how lucky you all are to be a tight-knit community. That’s another unique thing about ESD’s view on “community.”

CSA: Agreed. Even now, it’s fun to hear people talk about their ESD experiences. There is this unique sense of commonality that comes from going to ESD, whether you graduated in the 1980’s or 2000’s.   You can see people two decades later and there is no strangeness or awkwardness – you just pick up where you left off.

LAA: I’m interested to know if anything you all learned at ESD is going into the parenting of my precious, angelic nephews, known collectively as the “Ayres Little Men”?

JLA: When I think about what life lessons I want Angel and Giovanni to learn, it comes down to the ESD tenets I spoke about at the beginning. I want them to be honest and compassionate in their decision making. I want them to give back to others and their community so that they recognize that the world is larger than their daily experiences. I want them to recognize that religion and worshiping in community are important because it provides an anchor when they feel adrift.

LAA: Chris, what about Wyatt Walter and Cooper, who are already little Eagles?

CSA: Obviously, Kelley (Loper, now Ayres, Class of ‘97) and I are blessed to have the opportunity to send our kids where we went. I’ve said to many people, there are three things that shaped me as a person: my family, my church and ESD.  I am who I am because of ESD and I’m forever grateful for the way it shaped my mind, body, and my spirit.  I hope and pray that my two boys walk away from their experience feeling the same way.  Much of that was because of this amazing experience given to me by my teachers, the staff, and my schoolmates.

LAA: I would like all four boys to have a very strong sense of independent thought and expression. All of our remarkable classroom teachers, coaches, and administrators at ESD encouraged, no, demanded that we think for ourselves. I think you’ve both said it well. Something all three of us learned at ESD was “figure it out” thinking and “stick it out” perseverance.

CSA: When I hear people gripe about the school and whine about some aspect of their time there, I laugh because there is no way this school didn’t play some part in our successes after we left.  It’s impossible.  I am honored to still have a great set of relationships with some key teachers during my time.  I love my role and time on the Alumni Executive Committee.  I believed now what I experienced then: ESD is the greatest preparatory school in Dallas, in Texas, and in the United States.  I wouldn’t trade my time there for all the money in the world.

JLA: I was talking to a high school junior a few months ago in his therapy session. He is failing his classes and was talking about how insignificant high school is. I pointed to my diplomas and said that I would not have acquired one of them if I hadn’t worked hard in high school and had good teachers. ESD set the foundation for college and graduate school.

LAA: And, in my case, more college and more graduate school, and then even more. Glad we did this because ESD can always use a pat on the back and Mom and Dad deserve that, too. Nothing would have been possible without them. Thanks, Mom and Dad!

CSA: No doubt. Their gift of an ESD education transformed our lives.

————————————————————————————————————————————————–

Dr. Jennifer Ayres, of Austin, Texas

Laura Anne Ayres, of Zürich, Switzerland

Christopher Scott Ayres, of Dallas, Texas

Episcopal-School-of-Dallas-

Big, bad foreigners – who’s afraid of them (and why the hell are we)?

It’s human nature to be skeptical about things that are foreign to us.

Western ears traditionally approach the pentatonic scale as something “foreign,” but it’s not foreign to Eastern ears. A short skirt on a woman is highly offensive to someone in one country, but it’s a staple of one’s closet to another. A spicy curry makes my Indian friends reminisce about their family tables, but my Texas hot sauce made one of my Indian friends grab milk out of my fridge. It’s all relative and, sure, it’s all based on things being “foreign” to us, which is human nature.

What begins as human nature becomes something else entirely when we take it a step further.

The action of legislating, calling names, creating hate groups, or even inciting violence…why do we do it? Why do we take it that far? I think it’s because we are constrained by our own myopic sense of what our world is and we are intimidated by that which we do not know or understand. Our world is not white or black. It is not Jewish, Christian or Muslim. It is not East or West. It is not even native or foreigner. Not anymore. It’s global.

Pick any country…I mean, let’s look at the U.S. or Switzerland because both are currently struggling to manage the “foreigners” issue. What’s the real fear? These are spacious countries with majestic lands. Is the fear running out of resources or is the fear running out of “real Americans” or “real Swiss”? Are we really afraid foreigners will take over the United States or Switzerland with their…uh…what exactly? With their…diverse culture, rich history? Yuck. Who wants that? (Me.)

“Foreigners are taking our jobs,” it’s a common complaint. But, is it true? Many foreigners do jobs, in both countries, that “natives” do not want to or are not qualified to do. God willing, that will always be the case. What a shame if the world’s next Rachmaninoff didn’t want to go to the United States because he didn’t feel he was capable of securing a Visa. What a tragedy if the world’s next Einstein decided to stay away from Switzerland because he was concerned about the Quotas.

“Foreigners are bringing religions into this country that are against our country’s true religion.” Really? In general, I am not a huge fan of Leviticus (I actually find it borderline absurd for the most part), but I’ll go ahead and take a stab at interpreting this one…”You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God.” Sorry Jews and Christians, that’s us because it’s in the Torah and the Old Testament. So, if you’re on your high horse about getting the foreigners out, I’m afraid you’ll have to dismount.

Think of it this way, as I’ve learned all too well – we are all foreign to someone. Imagine that some foreigners are not out to get you or your job or your house or your anything. Imagine that some foreigners are in your immediate vicinity to work hard, contribute to society, and be at peace. And, if they really love you, share a good recipe for yellow Thai curry (still hoping).

Seriously, though….maybe, you could help them integrate.

Instead of kicking them in the back.

Breaking Point

I love snow.

I have this outdoor plant from Luzern (everything from Luzern is superior, including cheese, Emmi products, and Catholics).

I love snow. But, it’s snowing. A lot.

The leaves look weak and the plant looks weighed down by the snow. Twice a day, I go outside and get rid of the snow, trying to give the plant some support.

It needs some support. It’s too much snow.

Snow is lovely, but it’s heavy. When flakes come together, they have weight and power. One snowflake? No problem. But pile snowflake on top of snowflake, and you get something. Something heavy. Something that can snap a 100-year old tree in half. One melting snowflake can start an avalanche.

When does a plant or a tree (or a person) reach a breaking point? When does the avalanche happen? When is one tiny snowflake or nasty email or person’s rejection…too much?

I saw avalanches when I walked down the Col du Grand Saint Bernard. There is no warning. Something snaps and that is it. “Breaking Point,” in this case, seems like a post-mortem diagnosis.

The snow is falling in Uitikon. Snowflakes are building. Only one thing to do…photo

When it feels like too much; it is. Get rid of it. Whatever “it” is. Stay away from your breaking point.