Plymouth Magazine-Fall26-DIGITAL - Flipbook - Page 37
Directors as Coaches
Changing with the Times
Waller’s challenge underscored how
crucial the director has been to Matins’
longevity. “It needs a really good
shepherd,” said Howard Tempero.
And with more than a dozen directors
through the decades — both full-time
and interim, some also serving as organist
— these choir shepherds each brought
their own style yet shared a common
mission: Connect with the kids.
Like the saying “adapt or die,” Matins had
to walk a fine line over time, changing
to meet teens where they were while
holding tight to beloved traditions.
For starters, the choir had to become
more flexible in the face of competing
school demands, club sports and private
lessons for an array of teenage interests.
“There’s such a wealth of things kids can
choose from in high school now,” noted
Brimeyer. “And there’s also practical
things, like kids needing to have a job.”
Matins also have requested more
community service opportunities, both
on tour and at home. So, for example,
last fall they visited with Plymouth Place
residents to play games and perform a
few songs. On their most recent tour,
$1,000 raised from the Variety Show
went to a Colorado Springs non-profit
creating an 8-acre community park on
the site of an old concrete plant. Teams
of Matins also fanned out there to work
on some park initiatives.
And then came COVID in 2020. The
pandemic upended everything, including
Matins. Zoom worship services replaced
in-person church for nearly a year and a
half. The choir’s beloved tour was canceled
in 2020, and next year became “DeTour,”
a shortened Des Moines-based version. As
society—and Plymouth—slowly reopened,
some Matins did not return, leaving Waller
faced with another rebuilding effort.
Yet even as competition for teens’ time and
talents intensifies, the latest graduating
Matins struck an optimistic note about
the choir’s future at the Reflection
Service. “I feel like this will be going on
for a long time,” said Raleigh Smith.
“To get to be a part of history, to say I
was a part of Matins? It just means a lot.”
“It’s a bit like being a high school coach,”
said Vorbrich, thinking back on his days
with Stewart. “There’s a lot of pep talks
and bucking people up, asking them to
be more than they think they can be.”
Stewart was unavailable to interview, but
her wife Carol Van Horn recalled how
hard she worked to relate to the kids
and make it fun, hosting weekend choir
retreats, basketball games and other teambuilding moments. Van Horn herself was
a Matin under Dexter and later served as
Plymouth creative arts director, Matins
tour director and music librarian.
That Stewart style was replicated by other
directors, too. Micich said she made it a
point to “know and see every person in the
group. Personal connections mattered.”
Waller recalled Ruhe’s counsel to build
relationships and earn the teens’ trust. Her
bonds grew so strong, she went on to perform
marriage ceremonies for some alumna.
Beshire still marvels at Waller’s ability
to know someone’s name in a crowd of
100 teens. “When you’re an adolescent,
it feels good to go somewhere and
know that your presence is noticed, so
much that when you’re gone people also
notice,” she said.
When Brimeyer inherited the Matins
baton, he immediately asked the teens
what they wanted from the experience:
The two most common replies were have
fun and “it can’t be like school.” But they
also know he’s there to support them as
they navigate the pressures of teen life.
“He really, really cares about all his students
in Matins,” said Aristella Tempero.
Plymouth also wrestled over the
years with how best to serve teens
not interested in choir. In the 1980s,
Van Horn formed FISH – short for
Fellowship Is Here—as a Sunday evening
youth group. Everyone involved also was
in Matins, she recalled with a laugh. In
her 2013-2017 years, Beshires remembers
some non-Matins joining Wednesday
youth dinners before rehearsals. And
yet by the end of the year, she said,
they’d joined Matins to keep hanging
out, through the rehearsals and even
afterwards for ice cream.
Brimeyer, who also oversees children,
teen and family ministries, said it’s vital
to let high school youth know they have
choices. Last fall, for example, the Boone
Y Camp was the scene of an all-teens
Plymouth retreat filled with team-building
activities. Pastor John Tyson also leads
“Big Questions,” a youth-room forum
slotted neatly between the weekly 6 p.m.
Wednesday youth dinner and 7 p.m.
Matins rehearsal. The forum gives teens
space to ponder questions such as what it
means to be a good Christian. “It’s like this
awesome thing you get to explore together,
and you get to bond over how you think
about it,” said Aristella Tempero.
Matins, it seems, still offers that refuge
of belonging at a time when experts
stress about an epidemic of teen
loneliness. Brimeyer knows, however,
that nurturing this special community
so teens will continue to find it worth
their while is tricky. “It has to happen
organically,” he said.
On her final tour in 2023, Waller likened
Matins to a river and told her members: “As
director, I stepped into that river to help it
stay within in its banks, to grow. Then I got
out, and someone else stepped in.
“But you are the river,” she said, in a
challenge to the teens. “You are the energy.”
Sounds like today’s Matins have answered
her challenge, saying, “Bring it on!”
Diane Graham is a Plymouth Church
member and freelance writer who
reported and edited for the Des Moines
Register and Tribune for 31 years.
Plymouth Magazine 37
