—by Cheryl Hein Walters, Mansfield, Pa.

Years ago, as I began my elementary music teaching career, I taught in Dallas-Fort Worth—a wealthy, religious, and conservative area of Texas. The mother of one of my students, also named Cheryl, began harp lessons at about the same time I did.

We were interested in all things harp, so when we heard about a local harp program, I was disappointed I couldn’t make it, but my friend Cheryl was excited to take in the concert.

The teacher of the program offered classes on developing a character with one’s harp—storytelling with an instrument. My friend wondered why the second half of the concert had been described as “unsuitable for children,” but this was soon revealed. After intermission, the male harpist returned to the stage completely nude, or as my proper, lady-like Texan friend hissed, “He was buck-naked!” He sat down at his purple harp, and the skinny, hairy, bearded, and bespectacled harpist played with abandon.

Cheryl said it was extremely difficult to know where to look. Most of the audience was female and had a hand to their mouth, holding back hysterical giggles, desperately trying to not interrupt the serious harp music. If the performance had been in a big city nightclub, few would have blinked. In a strip mall studio on a school night in Texas, well…

Both Cheryl and I were grateful not to have picked this brave but judgment-impaired guy as our first harp teacher. •