The Teacher and the Rock Star
For those of you that know me, you know Wonder by RJ Palacio is one of my favorite middle grade novels. It’s a book every elementary school kid should read or should have read before middle school.
One of my favorite lines from Wonder comes from Auggie:
“I think there should be a rule
that everyone in the world
should get a standing ovation
at least once in
their lives.”
When I first started teaching public school in the Bronx in 1994, I used song lyrics for Language Arts.
I was lucky enough to connect with some incredible and incredibly generous musicians, and at times, Class 6-405 and Class 6-413 at the West Farms School looked like MTV Unplugged. Wyclef Jean, John Popper, Lauryn Hill, and Dave Matthews all visited our fourth floor classroom.
One set of musicians stood out: Jim Creggan, Kevin Hearn, Tyler Stewart, and Ed Robertson, also known as Barenaked Ladies.
On Saturday evening April 20, 1996, Barenaked Ladies played the Roseland Ballroom in New York City. Earlier that afternoon, Barenaked Ladies invited an elementary school class from Tremont — that was learning their words and songs — to sound check.
I didn’t know how many kids would show up at the school at two o’clock on a spring time Saturday afternoon. I didn’t know if any would.
One set of musicians stood out: Jim Creggan, Kevin Hearn, Tyler Stewart, and Ed Robertson, also known as Barenaked Ladies.
Shameke, Hootie, Jazmin, Celmali, Ivan, Jose, Maurice, Airon, Claudia, Jibrail, Eddie, Chris, Deoshore, Airon, Karen, and Faustino showed. This is one of my favorite pictures from my teaching days. Note the billboard for Cats in the reflection!
We headed down to the corner and hiked up the long flight of stairs to the five train.
The attendant at the West Farms Square station that day was the same one who worked mornings during the week. I always waved to her. Sometimes I bought my tokens from her. She knew I was a teacher. She let us use our school group transportation pass that was only valid on weekdays.
At Roseland, we met the guys.
They introduced us to the crew. They showed us the lighting. They showed us the soundboard. Then they asked if we wanted to come up on stage and check out the instruments. Jim played his bass. Kevin showed us the keyboard. Tyler played his drums. Ed showed us his guitars and pointed out the night’s set list taped to the stage near his mic stand.
The kids all had their lyrics sheets, the sheets we made and used in class. We had the words to Brian Wilson, Enid, and If I Had a $1,000,000.
“You want to sing it with us?”
Of course, we did. We knew their songs by heart.
“Check out where we are!”
That’s something we always said. Class 6-405 went on fun trips and had meaningful experiences. Everywhere we went, we always acknowledged the moment. We always made a point of saying, “Check out where we are!”
Right now, we were on the stage of the Roseland Ballroom singing the words we’d learned in class with the artists who crafted those words into this song.
“Dear Mr. Bildner: Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Ed Robertson’s Barenaked mom.”
Ed Robertson told his mom about the experience. Rock stars talk to their moms, too. His mom told him she had to get in touch with me.
A few weeks later, I received a note from Wilma Robertson.
“Dear Mr. Bildner: Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Ed Robertson’s Barenaked mom.”
Ed’s intelligent wit explained in a sentence.
“I hope they never get ‘big,’” she wrote in her opening paragraph, “that they are unapproachable. I think you will probably agree with me that will never happen.”
Wilma Robertson and I became pen pals. Old school, snail mail pen pals. Then we became email pals.
I told Wilma all about the time Ed and Jim visited the class and how Jim took his stand-up bass on the subway all the way to the Bronx; up and down all those stairs just so he could play for the kids. I told her about the time we went to the Paramount Theater and sang One Week on stage at sound check and met Jason Priestley who also happened to be there.
One time, Wilma told me that Ed was home for a short while and had a friend visiting from Atlanta. They were going to see Kurt Swinghammer play. “Ed’s interest in music is huge and varied.”
One time, she told me all about how much little Hannah, Arden, and Lyle loved to read. “Ed and Nat have read to them since they were tiny babies, and it shows. They all have to have their bedtime stories before they get tucked in for the night.”
Each time, a note only a mother and grandmother could write.
Wilma passed away in 2008. I didn’t learn about her death until some months later, and when I did, I reached out to Ed. He told me how much he missed her. He shared some of the things he missed about her most.
“Do you want her letters?” I asked.
Ed didn’t know his mother and I had kept in touch. Not to the extent we did. He didn’t know we were pen pals for all these years. One of the things Ed missed most about his mother was her handwriting.
We saw everyone: Kevin, Jim, Tyler, Ed. I gave Ed a hug. I thanked them for their years of kindness. I told them how much it meant.
Earlier this month, in the midst of having to deal with my heartbreaking Round Rock situation, I reached out to Ed. It was the first time I had in awhile.
I told him that Kevin and I had tickets to their show the following week at Bethel Woods. We’d love to say hello. Ed said he’d leave us passes and asked if we needed tickets. We didn’t need tickets. We’d bought good seats months ago.
Ed left us tickets anyway. We thought we bought good seats months ago.
We had good seats now.
Before the show, we saw everyone: Kevin, Jim, Tyler, Ed. I gave Ed a hug. I thanked them for their years of kindness. I told them how much it meant.
They wanted to know about the kids. Did I know how they were doing? Did I ever hear from any of them?
I hear from lots of them. I keep in touch with many of them. I’m starting to meet their kids now. It’s wonderful.
For some reason, I was sweating like Albert Brooks in Broadcast News when we were together.
It made for a good laugh as we talked about Waitress the Musical (which they’d just seen on Broadway), our new-old house in Newburgh, and the poetry slam documentary, Louder Than a Bomb.
We took a great picture. Kevin and I look tiny!
The show was incredible. Of course, it was. Barenaked Ladies never disappoint. You’re going to have a good time at a Barenaked Ladies show. It’s impossible not to.
Kevin and I sang and danced to every song. The guys saw us. Everyone saw us. It was impossible not to.
Life, in a Nutshell.
When I Fall.
Sound of Your Voice.
Brian Wilson.
Howard Jones, who opened the show, joined them for No One is to Blame.
Then Ed faced me. He introduced me to the crowd. He told our story. I’d never heard his version before.
The Tribute
Click Play
“There was a standing ovation.”
“It wasn’t something I planned,”
Ed emailed me the next day
“It wasn’t something I planned,” Ed emailed me the next day. “I had no intention of making that testimonial last night… it just happened. I’m really glad it did. It felt right. It felt true. It felt totally natural. That’s why I have the best job in the world. I can goof around with my pals, making music, improvising, and free-styling nonsense, or rock out with energetic abandon… or tell an incredibly personal story of loss and kindness. It’s all fair game. It’s all embraced and supported. I’m a lucky man.”
I’m a lucky man, too.
Thanks for my Auggie moment, Ed Robertson.
Thanks for my Auggie moment, Barenaked Mom.
In light of Round Rock and in light of Orlando, I really needed it this week. Thanks for reminding me about the very words I say to kids more and more:
Always believe in wonder.
Follow the fifth grade adventures of Rip and Red. Be sure to pick up copies of A Whole New Ballgame and Rookie Of The Year.
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Sitting at my desk crying.
I love absolutely everything about this story. Thanks so much for sharing it with us, Phil!
It is a great story!
Oh man, this is so moving. Tears, I tell ya. You are a magnificent soul, Phil Bildner!
I cried listening to this. Wow, just wow!
Wow. Just WOW….on so many levels.
Wow!! That was an amazing story Philip thanks for sharing
Wow! Just WOW! Loved this – and YOU rock!
Phil
You never cease to amaze me and everyone around you. Thank you for sharing this lovely story.
Pretty cool, right?
Awesome to see how one person can make such a difference in unexpected ways!
Wow! Just…wow! What a lovely man for taking the time to share your story and how you impacted him. Remember that there are lots of others out there too…the untold stories. You are a hero of mine. Thank you!
Wow – honored to have met you at the EMLA retreat, Phil. Anyone who connects kids with Barenaked Ladies’ lyrics to help them read has made the world a better place, and clearly your positive impact just keeps rippling like waves in a pond.
Thank you for sharing this Phil. Kindness comes around and goes around, doesn’t it? I teach at one of the schools you won’t be visiting this year and I’ll miss hearing from you. Please let us know where you will be in the Austin area so I can still come see you. Hugs and keep on going. Love and kindness do win. Every time. ❤️
Phil,
Such kindness and beauty in that story on all sides. Thank you for sharing with all of us!
Phil you ALWAYS were a special guy. I still recall many many hours we would sit on the phone. Even back then you told great stories.
Eds Shout out was a true testament to you: amazing.
Thanks, Jamie!
What a great story! You deserved your Auggie moment for many many reasons!
What a beautiful story. I had tears when I heard Ed’s dedication. Thank you for sharing those letters. I’ve been a fan of Ed for years and I actually remember the story of Jim and Ed coming and playing for your class. What a wonderful thing you did for those kids.
Thanks, Helena. Great time!
Phil, I was front row center at this show… for this story. Amazing! As I saw the tears well up in Ed’s eyes, I was crying right along with him. Once again, amazing story and to this day… those guys are some of the most approachable men I know… just as Ed’s mom hoped for. <3
Thanks, Marie!
Wonder is one of my favorites too! My older son’s fourth grade teacher assigned it, and it was the first book my child ever recommended to me! “Mom, you HAVE to read this.” As I read, I felt certain it was going to break my heart, but it never did. Wonder remains one of my all-time faves, and my top take-away from it–and I use it all over my world, especially as a public eduator, is to be kinder than is necessary. A year after reading, my son was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy, and his diagnosis has reminded me on repeat just how important that lesson is. See, kids who are different know they’re different long before their parents understand it. I’ve worked in Milwaukee’s central city as a speech-language pathologist for twenty-five years; I celebrate public education, and better than most, understand the insane obstacles faced as well as the impact urban educators can make. Thank you for facilitating something special for your students. I believe that the universe has its way of paying that kind of good forward, and I’m thrilled your important work has been rewarded in its way. I live for Barenaked Ladies. The Ladies’ melodies and lyrics have saved me over and again, and the guys have been Amazing, with a capital A, to me. Being at a Barenaked Ladies show is a gift. Meeting Barenaked Ladies exceeded my every expectation. Seeing the video of Ed sharing your story and the special bond you shared with his mother and now with him makes me love them all the more. I’m part of a group of superfangirls (sure, it’s one word), and through them I got to hear your story. Thank you for it. Cheers!
Thank you, it’s all I can say. I know Ed, I know how sincere he is in what he says and how he loves his mum. This story has also made me realise a lot about what I need to do within myself while my mother is unwell to try and help her get better. So again, thank you.
Ps. My mother was a teacher, as was my dad. They were both BRILLIANT teachers. Only 2 weeks ago, 2 32 year old guys came up to dad at a local music festival… Without prompting, they sang a song dad would sing from the stage at school assembly time to every pupil who had a birthday that day. But it wasn’t the international hit “happy birthday” that the WHOLE world knows… No… Dad wrote his own happy birthday song! And they sang it back to him, 24 years on, word for word. It was a special moment that lit his face up. My mum gets wedding invites to her former pupils special days… Kinda says it all. Keep up the great work sir.