Mr. Mac

When I was a kid, we moved to a new town, after Mom met and married the man who became Dad, and we moved into a “real” house (my kid thought) and set up family life. I entered my last year of junior high and wanted to fit in, but didn’t feel quite there…

Then came high school. I had grown up joining Grandpa’s church choir in the summer, so I followed Gram’s suggestion to join chorus at school, as a way to feel more comfortable…

And, so, Mr. Don MacTavish entered my life.

In my opinion, I wasn’t one of the kids born with the talent I heard in the Select Chorus; and I was scared to try out, just to prove myself right. So, I entered the general chorus and did my best while having fun at the same time. I caught a glance, right at me, from Mr. MacTavish, once and a while, and the smile that came with it had me singing to myself, with thoughts that I might be a little better than I had judged myself. But, I still didn’t want to try out for Select for my sophomore year.

And then Mr. MacTavish walked up to me one day, as I was leaving chorus, and joined me on the way to my next class, walking with me for a little bit. He said he knew I hadn’t tried out, but wondered if I would consider joining Select, as my second elective, as a link between regular chorus members and Select, because he always liked to have one kid on each part to do that. He said he had heard enough of me to know I was the alto he’d like, even without a tryout.

I just about fell over my feet, and blubbered a bit and mumbled something about not really wanting a study hall anyway, at the exact same time I was thinking “Me? You want me?”

That five-minute walk and talk changed me a bit. I am still not going to try out for a part … I’d prefer to drop through a hole in the floor than have anyone over the age of sevenhear me sing all by myself, I think! But I accepted Mr. MacTavish’s invitation with the growing certainty that I had something to offer. I didn’t magically evolve into a soloist, but I did know I could join another singing community when I wondered briefly about that in following years.

In choir, Rob often reminds me of Mr. MacTavish. (The joy of marching band is something they have in common, also.) I had no clue of Mr. Mac’s religious belief … he was a public-school teacher that taught us the joy that could be found in music, through his own enjoyment and discipline. (You couldn’t chew gum in chorus!) He did have expectations of us, and graded us, but I can’t help but feel that he shared his loving gift with us, also … right there in a public high school.

I just heard that Mr. MacTavish passed away recently, which made me feel the need to write … it’s one of the ways I process. I haven’t seen him in close to five decades, but I feel quite emotional about his death. He taught me that I had something to offer, he shared his joy, and he was a gift to my community. I am still singing through joys and sorrows, in part, because of him. He isn’t the lone influencer, but he is part of the whole picture.

I am sure that we need each other, some for short periods, some for a lot longer. I had Mr. Mac in my days for four years, and he’s been a gift since then. His joy, his discipline, his love. I am sure God gave us each other for such.

-Cindi Bockweg