Very little of what happens in my daily job ends up on TV or in any of my reports.
It’s sad sometimes because the people I meet, the conversations I have, and smiles I share are, on some days, more telling than the stories I tell.
Today was one of those days.
Last week, while visiting the Carpenter Art Garden in Binghamton, I met a young boy named James. He was holding a pair of drumsticks that he had decorated with blue tape.
“Are you a drummer?” I asked.
“No. I play the snare.” He said.
“Well that makes you a drummer, silly!”
Then I asked him all about being a drummer. The seemingly shy kid suddenly came to life when I asked him about it. He said he used to play in the band at school before the program was cut. All he had was a pair of drumsticks but no way to practice. He answered question after question. Did he know traditional or standard technique? His favorite beats? Did plan to keep playing?
Then the organizers of the Garden asked him to show off his art work. You see, James is talented. He took something as simple as pipe cleaners and produced art. He creates them at the garden and then sells them to help raise money to keep it going.
After James left, I learned even more about him. When he first came to the garden he didn’t talk. His response to a question was barely a mumble. He wasn’t social and he didn’t fit in. But then he discovered his artistic abilities. And loves it.
Over time he’s become one of the most social kids and is constantly creating something.
I left the garden and couldn’t help but think about how he might use a drum practice pad. You know, the kind that allow you to play without annoying everyone but also rock out for some real practice without setting up a drum.
This weekend Scott and I went to Memphis Drum Shop in Cooper Young and got James a drum pad and new sticks.
Tuesday, with an intern shadowing me, I asked my photographer to stop by the Garden for a few minutes. I told our intern that this has nothing to do with our story but that it was important to me. And as long as it didn’t impact my assignment, I needed to get it done.
I took the drum pad out of the box and then showed him some of my (rusty) beats. James was very excited, for a shy introvert. Though he wasn’t quite sure how to react, the smile on his face said it all.
“Now it’s your turn!! Play me a beat!”
“I don’t play beats. I play snare solos.” He said
“Well, play me a solo then!”
James took to the drum pad.
Dung-a-dut. Dung-a-dut. Dung-a-dut.
He did it over and over again. Each time bouncing the sticks higher and higher. I wanted to take a picture but I knew if I took out my camera is would ruin the moment. Instead, I just enjoyed it.
His excitement grew. I have a feeling he won’t stop playing tonight until someone says it’s time for bed.
This short moment out of my day reminded me what really matters. And, hopefully taught my intern one of the greatest lessons she’ll learn on this internship.
Most of the time, what happens off camera is the real inspiration for who you are on camera.