Cat in the Window

A clinician once made an analogy about music using the example of a cat sitting in a window. The cat doesn’t see the details of the cars driving by; he only sees broad impressions.

The same is often true of our students. I often wonder what students’ responses would be if you were to ask them what they learned in class today. Did they actually remember anything? Or were they distracted by the actions of other students?

How can we make our lessons more interesting and memorable than whatever distractions pull at our students? What can we do differently to hold the attention of our cats?

I also wonder what audiences remember about performances. What do the students in the audience remember? The teachers and staff? The parents? What broad impressions do those people have of our music programs?

New Year’s Resolution for 2009: Live Life “IRL”

One of my resolutions for 2009 is to live life IRL (in real life).

I am constantly drawn to computers, my cell phone, the TV, and reading material like books and magazines. Because you’re sitting there reading this blog, maybe you can relate.

While these things have value, they sometimes keep me turned away from real people like my family and students who approach me before or after school.

So my resolution is to give more face time, eye contact, and meaningful interaction to those around me. Before I am drawn into the magnetism of my computer, I will spend time with my family. When students hang around before or after classes, I’ll spend time with them and give them the attention they’re likely seeking.

Know what I mean?

Character Education in the Music Class

My purpose in this post is to hopefully open up a discussion about what part character education plays into your music program.

A year or two ago, I served as a member of my district’s music curriculum guide planning committee. We debated whether anything should be included in the curriculum regarding character education.

One teacher said that character education was not part of his teaching goals, but that he felt students would learn to be responsible citizens indirectly by being part of a successful music program. I agreed, but argued that some element of character education should be addressed somewhere in the curriculum guide. We debated the subject a little, but everyone agreed one bi-product of the music program is students becoming more responsible citizens.

Here are a few character traits I would like to see my music students develop:

Responsibility: It almost goes without saying that members of a school music group have a variety of responsibilities, including remembering to bring their instrument to school, turning in permission slips, showing up to rehearsals, not to mention practicing their instruments.

Teamwork: Students must learn to work together as an ensemble for good rhythm, balance, and intonation.

Punctuality: I can’t think of a really excellent director who doesn’t believe in starting rehearsals on time. In my district’s music program, students are responsible for leaving their classrooms to come to music class on time. The classroom teachers do not remind them, and there are no external prompts.

Kindness: Students should encourage each other as they learn new skills and concepts. We avoid laughing at anyone who has a hard time with a new skill.

What about you? Do you purposefully teach character education in your music classes? What other traits can you add to this list?

Get Others Involved, Part 1: Students

In my first year of teaching, as overwhelmed as I was, I was too much of a control freak to allow others to help with certain tasks in running the music program. I’ve since learned that there is great mutual benefit in getting others involved.

This post is part 1 of 3. In other posts, I write about getting parents and other staff involved. Here, I’ll share some thoughts about students’ help.

Students are capable of helping a lot more than we (or I!) might give them credit. Even elementary students can help with the more mundane tasks of sharpening pencils, putting away chairs, folding concert programs, and sorting papers like sheet music or practice records. I often think of one music teacher colleague who is brilliant at getting students to help him with just about any task. Even if the task is a complete no-brainer, it gives students a chance to get involved and feel they have contributed something. (“Here, hold this pencil for me.” “Can you hold the door open while I move this box?”) Plus, working together gives you a chance to connect with students on a non-musical level and let them know you are interested in their lives.

A youth leader from my junior high days often comes to mind. He was a very charismatic person, and kids often talked about how much he influenced their lives. Later, as an adult, I had the chance to talk with him about what he attributed his success to.  He told me, in effect, that he never passed up an opportunity to make an impression on kids. He said whenever possible, he tried to take kids with him wherever he went and create teachable moments. “Even on a trip to the grocery store, you can have a meaningful conversation with someone if you try.”

Of course times have changed, and I wouldn’t advise teachers to hang out with students off campus like this. His role as a youth pastor was different than a school music teacher, but I think the principle still has application. I often have students who come to the music room before or after school looking for a place to hang out. I can pretty safely bet they haven’t come for a lesson in building harmonic minor scales or refining their embouchures. They have probably come because you provide a safe environment where students are free to learn and grow and be themselves.

Do you have specific ways you involve students in running your music program? Share your ideas with the world here!

Three Classroom Rules

Over time, my rules has evolved into the following:

1. Respect the teacher

2. Respect students

3. Respect property

These have worked well for me in band and orchestra rehearsals, general music classes, and in the traditional classroom.

When you think about it, most other traditional rules are covered by the concept of respect. Interrupting shows disrespect for the teacher and/or students. Tardiness does as well. Gum, food, or drinks are generally not allowed because they can make messes and/or damage school property. Grabbing other people’s belongings such as backpacks or instruments shows disrespect for property.

If time permits, it can be to your advantage to have the students come up with their own classroom rules. They are much more likely to buy into the concept of having rules in the first place if they feel they’ve contributed or created the list. Here’s my dirty little secret: I usually allow the kids to rattle off all their ideas, write them on the board, validate everyone’s thoughts, and then show them how all their ideas fit into the concept of respect. But of course I don’t tell them I already had the list to begin with! The rules are now “their rules.”

In summer school I had a pretty wild group of students (not music students!), and I really tried to reinforce the concept of respect. I think it worked. Several times during the summer when a few students would get out of control, others would chime in and holler, “Hey! Respect!” The students probably forgot most of the content we discussed, but the word respect would probably come to mind when they remember my class.

And remember that the concept of respect works both ways. I try to show respect to even the most difficult students when disciplining them. My conscious always gets me when I do otherwise. More on that issue here.

Summer School is History

As I sit here and write this, I am enjoying the first morning of the day after summer school has ended. Go ahead; ask me how happy I am.

Summer music programs in my district have been off and on, and unfortunately this year was an off year. I have always taught summer school for the extra money, which means during the years without summer music I teach traditional multi-subject classes.

The summer school job application includes a section asking what grade levels you would like to request. I put down 3rd, 4th, or 5th grades. So, as you would expect, I was assigned 8th grade social studies.

Maybe someday I’ll write more specifically about the experience, but that will have to come after a few sessions of professional counseling and massage therapy. But for now, let me just say that I have a new appreciation for teaching music. Here’s why:

- Music students have a basic understanding that when they walk into the room, they are going to take out their instruments and play music. My summer school history students, on the other hand, seemed astonished every time I asked them to open their textbooks. On a daily basis I would hear questions like, “Do we have to read today?” or “Are you really going to make us do work?”

-  When all else fails, a music teacher can call out a piece, give a countoff (or cue or whatever your preference), and start the ensemble playing. The overwhelming majority of music students, even the worst of them, will respond by playing their instruments. Summer school history students, however, have an undeniable tendency to shove their textbooks away, slouch in their chairs, and stare at the ceiling.

- Music students are in class because they want to be there. Of course there are exceptions to this principle, but on a fundamental level, they’re generally there because they have chosen to be there.

- Music classes allow students to express themselves. New students may not dash into class begging to learn “First Suite in Eb” or “American Elegy,” but again, they are essentially open to the idea of using music to convey the emotions and feelings that brew within their hearts. (If that sounds sappy, please remember that I just finished teaching friggin’ 8th grade social studies in summer school.)

In addition to having a new appreciation for teaching music, I also have a renewed respect for classroom teachers. Even in summer school (which, remember, is an optional activity for elementary and junior high school students), classroom teachers face the pressures of pre-tests, post-tests, and lesson plans with educational standards noted, turned in to the principal weekly. They deal with students who don’t want to be there, and face parents and children who feel teachers are the enemy. They rarely hear the applause, get the trophies or accolades, or experience the joy of working with students who cooperate as a team, or on the most basic of levels, follow the conductor.

I could write more, but hey, it’s the first day of my abbreviated summer vacation, and my couch is lonely. See you next time.

End of the Year Music Awards

Here are photos of the awards I give to music students at the end of the school year.

  

Each year I choose two students to be recognized for the Outstanding Musicians award. Students get their name on the perpetual plaque which is displayed at school and they also get to keep a trophy. I try to use objective criteria to select students for this award, such as membership and/or seating placement in our district’s Honor Orchestra.

The Chromatic Climbers plaque is a new award this year, taken from a similar idea from a colleague. The award is for band students who can play a one-octave chromatic scale, ascending and descending, not necessarily memorized. As I have written elsewhere, this was a great motivational tool for students who probably would not have learned their chromatic scale otherwise. Soon after I explained the award and its rules to my students, my most talented players met the criteria almost immediately. Then the whole thing snowballed from there. As each additional student qualified, the others didn’t want to be left out so they obviously spent some time practicing at home.

Practice: Dealing with Students Who Don’t

[This is part 3 in a series of conversations about issues related to practice. Previous posts are here and here.]

We’ve all seen students walk into music class or private lessons with that sheepish look. They signal to us that they’re unprepared because they haven’t practiced. Then we as teachers are faced with the question of what to do about it. Do we reprimand the student? Do we pretend like they did practice?

Getting more assertive with students who don’t practice is effective with some students, but might backfire with others. I have had good music students quit because they didn’t feel like they were meeting my expectations. This is where the whole art of motivation comes into play; being encouraging without exacerbating.

Here are a few thoughts about what to do with chronic non-practicers:

1. Prioritize teaching about practicing. Make the word “practice” part of the vocabulary of music lessons. Teach students how to practice and what to practice. (More about this in a future post!)

2. Talk about what you’ve assigned for next week’s lesson. I don’t just mean tell them to practice the next page in the book; talk with them about specific measures to focus on. “In your next piece, there are some tricky leaps here, and a lot of accidentals there. Let’s see how you’ll do!”

3. Talk to parents about the lack of practice. I think there’s a way to do this without sounding like you’re tattling on the student. “Michael has so much natural talent. I get the feeling, though, that he has been coming to lessons unprepared. He could really be an amazing musician if he spent a little more time on our lesson material at home.”

4. In some cases, I’ve found that some students just won’t practice, but they’re sincere about their desire to keep music in their lives. With these students, I’ve usually found it best to just make the lessons enjoyable and not sweat it. When there has been an understanding among me, the student, and the parent that the student is not destined for a career in music, then I’ve taken a more relaxed approach. To get more assertive would just burn everyone out, including me.

What do you think? Have any suggestions to share?

Oh, No! What Am I Going to Do?

The power cord to my laptop doesn’t work any more. It will take at least a week to get a new one. This is the computer I take from school to school and contains all my most important documents, like attendance rosters, Finale and Sibelius files, etc., not to mention my access to the internet. As of today, the battery icon tells me I have about an hour of juice left.

Whenever I run into technological pitfalls like this, I am unimpressed with my own fatalistic reaction. “How can I do my job without my computer?” Then, after about 20 minutes of jiggling the power cord in futility, it dawns on me that my job is not about that computer; it is about, well, teaching and influencing children.

If you’re like me (and by the very fact that you’re sitting there reading a blog instead of mountain climbing or scuba diving, you might be a little like me), you’re instinctively drawn to your computer to “get work done.” Not having a working computer at school always forces me to consider all the work I can get done without it. And almost always, I realize that some of the most important work doesn’t really involve the computer as much as I believe.

Who Knew I Was Teaching Such an Expert?

Today I had a few of my brass players perform for my 3rd grade general music class. I do this every year as a recruiting tool. There were two very good 2nd year trumpet players and a trombone player who is no better than average for a first year player and is generally a goofball.

After we had performed a couple short pieces, I asked the 3rd graders if they had any questions for the brass students. A girl asked if it was difficult to learn to play the trombone. Suddenly, my trombone student morphed into this expert on trombone technique, and started a lecture on the proper way to play. “You have to hold the slide with your first two fingers, and not too tightly, because you have to move the slide freely. You have to buzz your lips differently in each register, because you don’t want to play an F when you want a Bb…” My jaw just about hit the floor. His former 3rd grade teacher was in the room, and even she was amazed to hear him speak so eloquently.

I guess all my constant nagging finally paid off.