I was going to teach Native American Indian students! Robert Frost, King Arthur and most of all, I believe God, had brought me to this place, on this day. (See Boozhoo Part 1)

Eddie-Benton-Banai, the school’s principal, whom I later learned was a  grand chief of the Three Fires Midewiwin Lodge in northern Wisconsin, talked about the business side of the job. What, when and how much I would be paid, what my hours would be, and how the administration ran the day by day school activities.

Over the years I have taught in a variety of schools with a variety of rules and protocols. Most of those structures did not seem to be operational in the Red School House. The school pretty much operated on “government grant money” and Eddie was the boss who decided, seemingly on a day by day basis, where the money went. It reminded me a little of the “Godfather” movie.

Eddie was a former Civil Rights organizer and a co-founder of the American Indian Movement with a master’s degree in education from the University of Minnesota. He had made it clear from the beginning that he was very busy with a lot of things and he would not have much time to have “philosophical” discussions.

He basically said, “If you have a problem, you work it out. If you need help, ask one of the teachers, or ask Porkie.”

I soon realized that Porkie was the Elder spokesman of the tribe and he was the final authority on most everything. Obviously he was someone who I needed to meet.

Now that I had a job, I just needed to find a classroom. Eddie was already on the phone discussing other problems. I talked with the nice office lady and asked her about where I should look for a possible “Music Room,” and in what room I would find the piano that Eddie had talked about. It turned out that the piano was in a vacant room, “just down the hall from the office.” The room was fairly large and had good lighting. I had found my “Music Room.” The piano sounded like it had not met a tuner for a long time. No problem.

I smiled as I said to the piano, “The piano doctor has arrived. I’ll be back in the morning to operate.”

 While living and teaching in Michigan’s U.P., I had taught myself the art of piano tuning. As  part of my trade, I had purchased the basic piano tuning equipment, such as a couple of tuning hammers, a second hand Strobe electronic tuner,  a “beginners kit of wrenches, felts, etc., etc. and a “Guide to Tuning Pianos” book. There seemed to be a need for my services in the Upper Peninsula, and as the old saying goes, “In the land of the blind, he who has one eye rules.” So, I might not have been the best tuner available, but I was the only tuner available; I actually did quite well with my newly found skill.

There were a few chairs in the room; but, again, no problem. I had already learned that my students and I, during class time, would mostly sit on the floor in a circle. Eddie had explained to me that it was the Indian way to sit in a circle so that everyone was equally close to the center. There would be no front row or back row. The teacher, or whoever was making a presentation, would be in the center of the circle, equally close to everyone.

I was beginning to understand that the “Indian Way” was steeped in philosophy. How could I learn these new ways and at the same time be a good and wise teacher? The answer was simple. I would share from the knowledge that I had acquired, and at the same time I would invite my students to become my teachers, as they shared their knowledge with me. We would both be teachers and students. It was the “Indian Way.”

I rummaged around in “The Music Room,” and to my delight, I found the violin that Eddie had spoken of. It seemed to be in fairly good shape, not a Stradivarius, but seemingly in playable condition. It had all four strings and there were no visible cracks in the body of the instrument, So far, so good. The bow was in sad shape and needed to be restrung. Most of the horse hair (used in making a bow) was gone.

I knew of a violin repair shop in Minneapolis and I told the office that, “tomorrow morning I am going to the violin repair shop and see about getting the bow fixed.” It suddenly dawned on me that I was already working in my new job. Somehow it seemed like a good omen. I met a few of my fellow teachers and they seemed like a dedicated and down-to-earth bunch. With each encounter I realized more and more that this was something brand new for me, and I had much to learn. I said “goodbye” to the folks that I had met and told them that “I would be back the next day to tune and regulate the piano.”

The next morning I put my piano tools in the car and drove to downtown Minneapolis to the violin shop.  It was right across the street from what would be my next future employer, Schmitt Music. Amazing!

EDITOR’S NOTE: Gerrit Lamain is a former Copper Country resident who served as a music professor at Suomi College. He has published a book, “Gerrit’s Notes: A compilation of essays,” which can be found on Amazon. His email address is gerrit.lamain@gmail.com.