All I can say is that I'm SO glad I took those days to see what I saw. I went there expecting raging hormones, backtalk, and some strict, hardcore classroom management, even possibly discipline.
Instead, I saw on-task kids, respect for the directors, having fun in class, doing their best to meet the director's expectations, and frequent positive reinforcement from directors seeing exactly what they wanted from their students.
On a legal pad, I took notes from everything I knew could be useful in my own teaching. And then I started writing reflections, thoughts based on how I felt after witnessing what I did. I'm so grateful to my feeding directors for allowing me to spend a day with them.
Like I said, the main reason for going was to better vertically align my curriculum to better prepare my 5th graders for middle school, whether they decide to join band or choir. At the elementary level, I teach choir as an after-school club that welcomes 3rd-5th graders. So doing that can give - especially the 5th graders - a taste of what choir is like in middle school. Except in middle school, they compete and get trophies, and have to impress judges. While I can definitely prepare kids for choir through a weekly choir "club" that culminates in a public concert, my preparing them for band involves using recorders. Yep..."Hot Cross Buns" and all that jazz.
Sidenote: I actually saw real hot cross buns at a local grocery store, and of course I had to buy them. I'll never buy them again. They were nasty. They had ginger, and I really dislike ginger. Blech!
At the elementary level, they're learning to become musically literate. But the lessons I teach, 45 minutes in length, consist of giving them a kinesthetic, aural, or visual experience to teach a new musical element, then we play a game for funsies, and then they practice reading, writing, and improvising with elements they've already learned. At the middle school level, it's about 50 minutes of solid practice. The "fun" is in meeting the challenge, and in making music itself. There are no games the way there are in elementary school.Their directors actually made practice fun.
Aside from all the wonderful things I witnessed, I had a special moment that nearly made me cry. During the choir director's planning/conference period, the band director came into the choir room to do a sectional rehearsal with the upper brass section (trumpets, cornets, French horns, etc.). A couple of my former students were in this group, and I had a good relationship with one of them. This particular kid played the trumpet, and when he was in 5th grade last year, he was learning recorder like all the rest. He sat down to the director's far right in the front row. There was an empty seat next to him, so I requested permission from the director to join his ensemble, which he granted. I sat right next to him, and he was thrilled.
As I sat with him, the director made some really fun things happen. While the director made some really boring activities seem militarily fun, he had the choir director's electronic keyboard at his disposal, so he used it to give some synthesized drum beats as the horns practiced their notes. As I sat next to my former student, rarely did he ever look at me. He was always watching the director, his trumpet, or his lesson book. He raised his hand at every opportunity to play anything the director requested. I just sat there, watching him scrutinizing the book, completely engaged and serious about his success. At one moment, he saw the double bar lines at the end of an exercise. He pointed to them and looked at me.
"What do the double bar lines mean?" he asked.
"What did they mean when you played recorder with me last year?" I replied.
"That it's the end?" he concluded.
I nodded.
At this point, the director saw he had his hand up. The director acknowledged him, publicly praised him for seeking out answers on his own, and reminded the class that many of their basic answers are found in the book they were using.
I couldn't have been prouder of this kid. In that brief moment, in his time of uncertainty that led to conclusion, it was as if I was there in spirit, in the back of his mind, and he was there trying to figure out the answer to his own question. He had left my guidance, and had a new teacher to continue his growth where he had left off with me. The big difference, though, was that I was physically there, right next to him, ready and willing to support his learning.
It was powerful, inspiring, and so humbling!
Particularly after experiencing this, the old statements I've heard for years in education returned to my mind: "It's all about the children," and "They are the future." For years I'd heard these statements, and for the first time, I fully understood them.
When children are given chances to perform in school, that exposes them to the stage, to rehearsal, to performance, to applause, to pride in themselves, and a sense of accomplishment. It's a cycle. Give children a program of some kind, whether Christmas or Veterans' Day or whatever. Give them songs to sing, teach them how to stand on risers, how to watch the director, how to get on and off the stage. Then give them an instrument, and have them join an ensemble where everyone else is learning and making mistakes as they get used to something new that is the next step up after what they've already done. Give them a goal to reach, and coach them along the way to reach it. Give them a chance to shine through a solo opportunity, and watch that self-confidence build. Teach them to relish in compliments, and accept constructive criticism, to learn from it.
Though my argument is biased towards the performing arts, this applies to all types of professions. Children want to become scientists, veterinarians, doctors, mechanics, and engineers through exposure to the sciences and math. They want to become authors through exposure to literature and language arts. They want to be historians or soldiers when exposed to social studies. They'll want to become artists, dancers, actors, musicians through exposure to the fine arts. They'll want to become business owners when exposed to math, social studies, economics, and taught to use them to learn to make money.
My point in listing all these professions is that they all begin with one thing: learning something from a teacher. And this brings me to the whole point of this post, a quote from David Haselkorn:
Teaching is the essential profession, the one that makes all
professions possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment