The Ethics of Care and the Private
Woodwind Lesson
by Nancy Nourse
Jeremy's family was
getting ready for the concert. It wasn't that he was tired of watching
his father conduct. He loved his father and he loved the concerts. But
people were always asking Jeremy the same question and that question didn¨t
seem to have an answer…They weren¨t even inside the concert hall
before the doorman smiled at Jeremy and asked, "Well, young man,
do you think you¨ll be a conductor like your father?"
Children like Jeremy, situated
in the world of established music-making, are routinely subjected to stereotypical
expectations, often not seen for who they are themselves, but for the
qualities of their situatedness. Jeremy, as a result, found himself continually
bombarded with this question which spoke in fortissimo tones that the
inquirer was impressed by the stature of his maestro father, but really
did not seem to care to see the young boy as a person in his own right.
The dreaded question, that he so frequently faced, festered in him, shouting
of his own lack of personhood in its flagrant assumptions. But what voice
did he have? After the concert:
a lady in a long gown and a huge strand of pearls came in next [back-
stage].Ž"So this is your little son," she cried. Jeremy blushed
as she kissed the top of his head and squeezed his face so that he looked
like a fish. "Tell me, young man, are you going to be a conductor like
your father?"
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