Good day that is my name

Yesterday Lizzy wasn't feeling at all well, so she called off and had a sub. It was uneventful and involved lots of Hairspray, so I didn't really feel like updating last night. Also I forgot until this morning when I woke up. I'm over it.

Because today was awesome. Not every class, but my time in third hour was magical. I'm not being facetious. It was wonderful and I felt like a real, effective teacher.

I always look forward to third hour, because it's our only all-female group and they're suuuuper sharp. They read quickly, they learn quickly, and they have a generally good tone.

Today my plan was to teach the first page of Dodi Li, and just show them how it repeated at various points throughout the piece.

We went through the first page a few times, putting parts together, and it went really well, so I had them go through and label the parts ABACADA and Coda. I then asked what element of music we just labeled. A moment of silence, and then a couple of girls quietly said, "Form?"

"YES! Say it again, louder!"

"Form!"

"YES!" And then we were off. "This is a specific form called rondo form. Say 'rondo form.'"

(everyone) "Rondo form!" I wasn't planning on delving into form, but at that point I felt they could handle it, so I rolled with it.

I then described rondo form and wrote out the form of Dodi Li on the board so they could see. I gave other examples such as ABACA, ABACDA, and finally ABACADAEAFGA. They got a kick out of that.

Then I erased all that, leaving only ABACADA Coda on the board. I noted that it looked almost like "Abacadabra," but not quite. One girl piped up with her own phonetic pronunciation of "Abbacadda." I affirmed her suggestion, adding "coda" to the end of it.

"Repeat after me: ABACADA Coda."

"ABACADA Coda!"

"ABACADA Coda is the form of this piece." Aside to Lizzy, "Sounds kind of like a Greek organization or something."

Then one student asked what a coda is. So I used my best vocab skills from EDU 450 and we learned about codas. And THEN someone asked what that symbol was above the last note:

"What a great question!" I replied. "It shows me that you're thinking!" I then drew the symbol on the board, and labeled it a fermata, having them repeat the word back to me. I explained that if a fermata is over or under a note, it means to hold that note until the conductor tells you otherwise.

"Basically, when you get to a fermata, Mrs. Bennett could have you hold that note...for days."

Lizzy gave the class a mischievous look as I said that.

"Nooooooooo!" The girls cried, "Don't give her any ideas!"

Lizzy and I laughed. "Don't worry," I assured, "I'm not giving her any ideas that she hasn't already had."

I then asked them to repeat back to me what a fermata means in music, and they correctly answered, "Hold the note until the conductor tells you otherwise!"

I think my Content Area Literacy professor would be proud of how I handled the vocabulary words today.

There were other successful things I did in that hour, like catching posture and tone problems every single time they became an issue. Normally I would be too wrapped up in the music to notice, but I tore myself away to watch the students. There was also a lot of circling of terms and dynamics, drawing arrows to show melodic contour in a measure, and drawing in the infamous "eyeglasses" to note when you should be paying particularly close attention to the director (this time it was at the ritardando leading into the fermata).

It was just a really successful rehearsal, and I was very excited about it.

And then fourth hour happened.

It's not that fourth hour is bad, they just move slower than third hour does for a multitude of reasons. One of those reasons is that there are a dozen or so boys in the group, over half of whom struggle with their parts. The second reason I'll mention is that the girls in fourth hour are not half as confident as the third hour ladies. I kept begging them to give me more sound because they could hit the notes, but it just wasn't working. We had to stop after basically learning page one.

Bottom line of fourth hour: I need to accept that fourth hour will always move a little slower than third hour, and also I need to make sure all the boys are on pitch and that the whole choir has a good tone before continuing. I think I let the boys overwhelm me, therefore I didn't pay close enough attention to the posture and energy of the rest of the class. I also wanted to move through as much as possible, when this time it would have been better to slow things up. Next time.

I feel like that's as good a place as any to stop for the day. Those were my two classes where the biggest lesson was learned:

Embrace flexibility in the lesson. Be willing to go farther, and also be willing to take a step back if it means ultimate success.

(entry's title courtesy of Good Day by Tally Hall)

Carrying a tune in a trash can.

Today the roof was leaking. We're pretty sure there was water gathering on top of the ceiling tiles, because every few minutes from third hour on, a small gush of water would fall. Lizzy started freaking out, because it was falling right by the electronic piano that she paid a bundle for. After third hour we had to move the piano forward a few feet and stick a trash can under the leak. At the beginning of every class, all the students would ask me if I knew there was a leak. I would have to explain that yes, I know, there is a trash can under the leak.

When a second person in each class would ask me about the leak, I would say to the whole class, "Alright, everyone point at the ceiling and say 'There's a leak in the ceiling!'"

"There's a leak in the ceiling!"

"'This is the last time we get to talk about it!'"

"This is the last time we get to talk about it!"

Most students didn't have a problem after that, but one sixth hour girl who consistently gives attitude said in a challenging tone, "Now we're fixated on it," loud enough so everyone could hear.

"Somehow the other classes didn't have a problem with it," I responded. And we went into warm-ups. Sure enough, the only time sixth hour students were understandably distracted by it was when Lizzy was telling the class about the Renaissance period and history for about eight minutes.

A small note about working on sight-reading with the students: One of the main ideas we're working on is that sight-reading is fun. I told all the students that if they walk into the sight-reading room at festival, showing that they're confident and ready to have fun, the judges will eat that up. The judges have to watch and listen to students who just hate sight-reading and are terrified of it all day. The more fun you have with sight-reading, or even just pretend to have, the more accurate you will be. Because at some point, pretending starts becoming reality.

Two local university students came in to observe, and they were wonderful. They loved what Lizzy was doing with the students, and they were happy they got to see me do warm-ups and sight-reading with the students as well. I was nervous that they would be critical of me to my face, but they were both very sweet. They're thinking of coming back next Friday, and will be gladly welcomed back by both of us.

There is a new male student in fifth hour eighth grade who has never been in choir before, and is only familiar with the speaking voice range of his voice right now. Lizzy threw me into a room with him and another boy who matches pitch really well and is quite comfortable with all parts of his voice. Let's call new boy "Denny," and experienced choir student "Saunderson."

I took one thing that I learned in a choral methods class and found the pitch that Denny spoke at, which was about an F#3. Then I held his name on that pitch and he joined me, followed by Saunderson. We all then went up in pitch one half-step at a time, until Denny's voice just wouldn't go up any further in his speaking voice register. We topped out at an A3. We tried to bottom out his voice and that was as far as it would go.

I tried some things I learned in a choral methods class, but he was clearly super uncomfortable and still wouldn't get out of that speaking range. Busted. I knew it: eighth graders are too cool. He's doesn't want to make a fool of himself.

Denny also admitted that he really only listens to rap, which explains his range. If all you ever have to sing along with is in speaking voice, that's all you'll ever do. After our brief time in the side office, Lizzy told me that Denny was already sounding better than before. Success!

This will be the great experiment.

Will we be able to get Denny's voice into different registers? (horn cue)

Will the other boys rise to the challenge of helping out a fellow student? (horn cue)

Can we get Denny to match pitch and sing along by district choral festival? (horn cue)

Will anything I learned in choral methods actually work in this situation?? (horn cue)

The story continues next week.

First Day of Judgement

Today my coordinator (previously referred to as Col. Fitzwilliam, hereafter referred to as "Fitz") came in to Longbourn MS to observe me. I was happy that he could come in for the third hour seventh grade girls, as they are usually pretty focused and sight-read quite well. Today was, happily, no exception!

I had about twenty minutes, and of course that amount of time gradually increased throughout the rest of the day. But for third hour I stayed pretty much at twenty minutes! Phew! Goal for tomorrow: 15-20 minutes (NO MORE!!) on warm-ups and sight-reading. I picked out a few melodies for the classes that I think can be accomplished in the 10-12 minute slot I have for sight-reading, and Lizzy and I will be figuring out warm-ups tomorrow before school.

Back to today. We did some warm-ups, and the girls had really great energy in their tone, so I let them know! Of course no matter how many times I went through it on my own and wrote it down, I forgot one of the warm-ups and had to go back and fix it. Oh well, it happens.

Something Lizzy emphasizes is forward placement, and she's had to really refocus the choir on that lately. While they sang the warm-ups, the choir tapped their teeth in time to make sure they weren't smothering their sound with their lips pulled over their teeth.

It sounds weird, but it makes sense, I promise. And it got a really clear sound out of them.

I ran through the sight-reading melodies with the choir, and divided them into groups of three to see how they worked together figuring out the solfege. Fitz really liked that I made time for group work. It wouldn't have really worked for the other three classes, so I didn't use it for them. But it worked okay with third hour!

After I finished sight-reading, Lizzy took over the class to rehearse music and I went into the side office with Fitz to go over his comments on the lesson. First he asked me how I thought it went. I rattled off a list of things I would change in my approach for the next lesson, and he simply said, "You're being awfully self-critical. That's not necessarily bad," he added, seeing that I was slightly embarrassed, "It shows that you're being reflective and that you're aware of what you're doing."

He went through his comments sheet, and only had positive things to say about how I worked with the students. "You made one mistake," he said after he'd finished reading his comments out loud, "You did so well this time that now I'm going to expect all of your lessons I observe to be fantastic from now on."

I very audibly heaved a sigh of relief. "No pressure," said I. We laughed briefly.

It was really encouraging to hear from a teacher other than Lizzy that I'm doing things well. I do value both Lizzy's criticism and praise, but it is always nice to get a second opinion. I said as much to Lizzy at lunch, adding that I really felt like I didn't know what on earth I was doing.

"You gotta get over that," she declared, "You know what you're doing, but if you don't show it, the kids will destroy you." And she's right. I long ago passed the point of being clueless, but have lacked real confidence for so long. I am now willing to claim that I know what I'm doing.

That doesn't mean in any way that I'm perfect, because even people who know what they're doing make mistakes. If Lizzy didn't make mistakes in her classes, I would be both bored by her and intimidated by the prospect of teaching. If actors didn't make mistakes, we wouldn't have any funny bloopers to watch on the dvd. I know that if I keep teaching, I will look back and laugh at things I did while student teaching.

I'm excited for tomorrow's challenges, which I will meet head-on in front of a few university students coming in for observations for class. I know that they will be very critical of me in their reflections and in class, because that's how it happens. But I'm going to try not to care, because what's my mantra for tomorrow?

I know what I'm doing!

Bring it.

Sound organized in time.

I was asked why I didn't write an entry for Monday's seminar. I decided against it because I didn't want to end up simply ranting about how the high school group and early elementary group seemed to not know how to write simple, concise classroom rules. So I could go on about that for several paragraphs, or the fact that while it is useful to have an instructor play devil's advocate, it can be downright obnoxious after a point.

But I think I'll move on with my life.

On Friday I took home Lizzy's video recorders with the recordings of my little bits of lessons so far. Today I finally remembered to watch them. After watching them I have decided on my personal goals for tomorrow's lesson (during which I will be observed by my coordinator). They are as follows:

1. Keep it moving!

2. Keep the energy up in every fiber of your being!

3. Vary proximity to students!

So hopefully this goes well.

Today the first hour sixth graders were generally better-behaved and had better attitudes than yesterday. More students were offering answers to questions, more students were actively listening. Therefore Lizzy was able to lighten up a bit. She threw in some horribly unfunny jokes (some only funny to her and me, some just a little off the deep end), and the class was able to relate to her more personally than to the harsh disciplinarian they met yesterday. Now she is a disciplinarian with a soul.

One thing I love about Lizzy's method for the sixth graders is how she leads into topics. Today, she asked the students what music is. She acknowledged every answer and continued to probe the class about the responses they gave, asking why they gave them and what exceptions there might be.

"Well, it needs words..."

"Okay, so the band next door doesn't play music because they don't have lyrics?"

"Oh, I guess you don't need..."

"So does music need lyrics in order to be music?"

"No."

And etc.

It was a really interesting discussion that I think gets overlooked in higher study. I think Lizzy hits it right on the head with her definition:

Music is sound organized in time.

This made me think: wait a sec, does that make some things music that not everyone thinks is? For example, people still debate on the validity of 4'33" as a musical work. However, it does qualify as music based on this definition: it is sound of some kind, organized in time (four minutes, thirty-three seconds). That's it! That's all! The end!

And it is because of this definition that I will acknowledge rap, screamo, serialism, and yes, even autotune, as music.

Ke$ha, though? Well, I guess by this definition, the quality of those three terms doesn't affect the fact that it is, in fact, music.

Find out what it means to me.

Yesterday there was no post because I didn't feel like ranting about the cynicism of our seminar instructor. Or the fact that most people in our class don't know how to write succinct and easy-to-remember classroom rules posters.

Today, however, was the first day of "real" class at Longbourn Middle School since last Tuesday, as most of last week constituted exams. It was also the first day of the new semester.

This meant certain students got switched around the choirs, ruining the whole groove of the system that was working so well a week ago. Third hour stayed basically the same with 2-3 girls dropping and one girl switching from fourth hour, while fourth hour dropped from 35 students to 28 or 27. The girls only outnumber the boys by a margin of 4 or 5 now. I couldn't stay for the eighth grade choirs, as I had a doctor's appointment after lunch.

New semester also means new sixth grade vocal exploratory class. We'll have four 4-week classes of sixth graders, the second of these classes being the one I get free rein over. For now I'm observing how Lizzy sets up the class from the beginning, and jumping in a little bit later.

I really got to see Lizzy put her game face on for this first hour today. She was pretty neutral, with maybe a hint of pleasant, right at the beginning. However, a few students decided to be defiant and try to have the last word. Lizzy quickly jumped on it, explaining that that is not appropriate behavior, that "I don't expect to hear 'whatever' from you, because I would never use that word with you."

A few of these students started very clearly having silent conversations across the group/aisle, and Lizzy nipped those right in the bud. This is something that I think I will probably have a more difficult time picking out, but I'm sure I'll get the hang of it eventually.

Going through the main rules of the classroom, she boiled everything down to respect beginning on the inside. "If you respect yourself, will you be responsible for your actions? How about your own safety?"

Something I hadn't heard Lizzy say about respect was something that I found quite valuable:

"Let's talk about a phrase that most of you have heard, and I'm sure some of you even believe. This is not a phrase that I will ever use: 'You have to earn my respect.' "

I was a little surprised, but it occurred to me that the phrase didn't exactly fall into line with the atmosphere Lizzy's choirs have. She continued.

"You might be sitting there thinking, 'Ms. Bennett, you can have my respect when you've earned it.' Let me tell you about someone who never once told people to earn his respect." During a short pause, I briefly considered who she might be referring to, but I didn't guess correctly: "Martin Luther King, Jr."

A murmur of approval and agreement shuddered through the sixth grade class. From this point every eye was on Lizzy.

"Was Dr. King a respected man? Is he?" A sea of bobbing heads prompted her to continue. "When Dr. King was being attacked with fire hoses by those in authority, did he stop and say, "I'm sorry, but you need to earn my respect?" An ocean of swaying heads. "No, he respected them for being fellow human beings, and for their positions of authority over him."

She leaned in. "I will show each and every one of you respect, and I expect respect from each one of you." They nodded in agreement.

Lizzy also very quickly uses classroom rules as examples of real-life application. "You know, those students who answer all the questions, they're gonna grow up and be your bosses one day. Don't let them be the only 'smart' ones! People who answer questions and put themselves out there are the ones who get hired and promoted. Don't you want to be promoted and be a boss one day?"

"You forgot your pencil/agenda/folder? What is the policeman going to say when you've forgotten your license and you're speeding?"

Things like that get the students thinking, "Oh, maybe I'm learning something I actually can carry with me and use in my everyday life.

The theme for this marking with the sixth graders is probably going to be "nipping things in the bud." Therein lies my discipline goal. Ready, go!

[I'd write something more coherent and definitive to end this, but pain meds are making me sleepy. Cheerio!]

The Finals Countdown

Today was my first real day of proctoring exams for the seventh grade choir. It was largely uneventful, and I did a lot of grading. Like, five hours of grading, though I got into a groove the more exams I got through. Lizzy had to leave right at the end of the half-day to go to a conference, so I got to play pretend teacher and listen to my own music while I graded.

Tomorrow morning, I basically get to run the exam for the eighth grade while the sub and the accompanist (whom I will name Mary Bennett) monitor the class for discipline. And this time, I'll be grading the exams as they finish them instead of waiting until everyone is done. Hopefully then I'll be able to leave by 11 or 11:30!

Each class had about twenty/twenty-five minutes after they finished their exams, so they got to choose a movie to watch: This Is It, Hairspray, or (shudder) Annie.

The first class, all girls, unsurprisingly chose Hairspray. A few of them were amused that I knew most of the words to "Good Morning Baltimore," because I was mouthing it while I was grading. And during the "Miss Baltimore Crabs" song, there was one line (about screwing the judges) during which Lizzy loudly "woooooooooo"-ed and asked "SO HOW DO YOU THINK YOU DID ON YOUR TESTS? GOOD? YEAH? OKAY RETURN TO THE MOVIE!" They looked at her confusedly and sort of murmured in reply.

I was kind of surprised by the other seventh grade choir's choice of film. I actually had to count votes for the movies, because it was a close call between Hairspray and (shudder) Annie. For some inexplicable reason, all of the boys voted for Annie, and after a few girls joined their ranks, they had enough notes to win. Lots of girls who voted for Hairspray started complaining, prompting Lizzy to give a small lecture about democracy.

As I put the disc into the player, one of the boys asked me, "Miss Renas, are you a democrat or a republican?"

I simply said, "That's none of your business." Everyone was a little surprised, but laughed it off.

However, the happiest moment of my morning was getting the okay to fast forward through the opening credits of Annie.

I feel like I should write something about the exams, or what we're doing next week or something...but at this point, I'm just glad the week is over and I'm heading up to CMU tomorrow.

Til Monday, then!

Tude.

Today I got to deal with my first minor discipline issue. Not anything huge, just some tude going on. What is "tude," you ask? Don't worry, I got you covered.

Today the only class we had was first hour sixth grade, as it was the first day of exams and Lizzy has second hour planning period. I had the whole hour to work with them on a continuation of what we did yesterday.

After moving to the beat like we did yesterday (and nipping side conversations in the bud!), I asked the students a few questions about what we did yesterday, and informed them of a few things we would try to accomplish today.

I don't remember the exact moment it occurred, but at some point a student sitting right in the front row--let's call him George--decided that he was going to make a sarcastic response to everything I said. The first time or two I gave him a look and he stopped, but one comment was defiant, verging on downright mean.

My tone changed from "let's get down to business," to "defeating the huns," so to speak (...yup).

"No," I said sharply, "That was not appropriate."

The students hadn't really seen me get harsh before, so I heard a few ascending "ooooooh's" arise.

George didn't give me any more lip for the rest of the class, even if he was a bit sullen for a short while when he didn't get placed in a group with his usual buddies. However, he showed he understood the material when he started piping up with suggestions later on in class.

In the twenty minutes before class I split them into different groups than the ones they were in yesterday. Yes, there were some really confident groups yesterday, but there were also one or two super chatty ones wherein the group members got off task easily. I was careful to place one really strong leader in each group, as well as at least one person to balance them and make sure they checked their work. Today they were in six groups of four instead of five groups, making individual contributions that much more important.

The mission for the small group work was similar to yesterday, with the exception that all students had to memorize the four-measure phrase of rhythm they created. The purpose of memorization? Performing with other groups in a "battle of the bands" type situation where the rest of the class would vote on the winning group.

I walked around to each group, checking their progress. After the first round I challenged the groups to have their rhythms complete and memorized for the second time I came around. At that point I should have just given them a time limit and told all the groups to have it performance ready at the end of the time limit. However, I made a second round and checked groups for accuracy, involvement, and teamwork. Until typing just now, I was stumped by what to have them do after I visited their group a second time. It makes infinitely more sense just to have them jump right in to performing and critique. I was just erring on the side of having everyone fully prepared and successful.

When all the groups had shown me they were ready, everyone sat back in their seats and two groups volunteered to go first. I put on "Firework," by Katy Perry (which was a tad fast, but challenged them nicely), and after getting the whole class to feel the beat, the first group performed their rhythm. Classmates volunteered three things they liked, and then three things they could improve on, and the group performed it again. Then group 2 went through the same process.

The next step, which I had told them about before, was putting the two rhythms together. Group 1 performed, then I counted off group 2, and then I counted off both of the groups so that they performed their rhythms together. The class got a huge kick out of it, and the performers realized that it was actually easier to stay on the beat when they listened to the other group performing with them.

I then asked the audience to put up fingers signifying which group they thought "won" the "battle of the bands." The class voted for group 2, and I asked them for three reasons why. They replied that group 2 was more together, louder, and had no memory slips.

At this point I wish I had addressed that the students were critiquing each other not only on musical accuracy, but on expression and teamwork. I wish that I had pointed out how supportive and observant the students were being. I was so concerned about time, however, that I completely flew past that.

The second set of groups got up, and while waiting for group 4 and myself, group 3 took it upon themselves to practice their rhythm.

"What is this group doing?" I asked the class.

"Talking!" was the general answer, but amid that I heard one lonely "Practicing!" cry out.

"Exactly! Practicing!" I then launched into a side note about how professional musicians warm up before they perform, and often will quickly run through some difficult passages before they perform. It wasn't something that was part of my lesson, but the students seemed intrigued.

I ran out of time, so only four groups got to perform. However, all students who weren't performing were actively engaged and contributing to critique. There was a point during the lesson wherein I had to make a decision: is it more important for all students to experience it, or for students to be successful? I think that in this particular case, more students were successful because they really analyzed what was happening with each group's performance.

There were many things I would change, but I'm pretty happy with how today's lesson went. Overall it was a "take charge" kind of day.

1-2-3-4

I worked with the sixth graders today on rhythm improvisation and composition with a bit of performance thrown in, while tomorrow's mini-lesson will focus on composition and performance.

First, Lizzy gave me the power of her iPod and speakers to do some finding the beat and practice rhythms with the kids. The whole activity is very physical, and the students really start to wake up if it's a song they like and they see you enjoying it as well! First we nod our heads to find the beat, then we step side-to-side on the beat (right-touch-left-touch). Next we find micro- and macro-beats with our hands, either swaying for whole or half notes, or tapping our breastbone for quarter and eighth notes.

After we do some movement and get the beat in our bodies, the teacher holds up rhythm cards and the students step to the quarter note while performing the written rhythms.

Honestly, this is probably my new favorite activity. Lizzy does this with her choirs as well as her sixth graders, and it clearly improves their sight-reading. I think this is something every choir would benefit from, if only to loosen tension and to remember music is something to move to.

The next part of my particular mini-lesson involved call-and-response rhythms: I performed a measure of rhythm, the students would repeat it back to me. After about eight of these, I called on a student to create his own measure that we would repeat. He was thrown off, but successfully created a measure. I called on a few more students who were thrown off, but the class repeated their measures back to them, and the last five or so students were very successful in saying their rhythm actually in time with the music playing!

After the song ended, I split up the students into their previous card game groups with the mission of creating four measures of rhythm in every group, two measures of which must have some kind of rest. I informed them that once every group was done, they would be performing for the class.

I realized after a few minutes that some of the students who were leaders in the card game were bashful and uncertain during this activity, so that's something I can change for tomorrow.

Generally this lesson went pretty well, but I wasn't paying close enough attention to everyone in the class while working with the performers. I also think I need to be clearer about what exactly I expect from the students when they are working, and when they are watching their classmates perform.

Lizzy has a whole playlist for just movement in the classroom, comprised of pop songs with very specific standards:

1) Moderate tempo - Students need to be able to step to each side to the beat and not be rushing or waiting. They also need to be able to perform eighth note rhythms, sometimes sixteenth notes. The tempi of Adele's "Rolling in the Deep" or Smash Mouth's "All-Star" are about perfect. This rules out any Aquabats songs (too fast), and unfortunately some of my more favorite Billy Joel tunes (too slow).

2) Strong emphasis ON the beat - (Typing that made me think of the Minnesota ATP choreographer in Drop Dead Gorgeous shouting "ON THE BEAT!"...for those of you in the know.)

Good examples: "Staying Alive," by the BeeGees, and "Float On," by Modest Mouse.

Unfortunately unusable: "The Longest Time," by Billy Joel (emphasis in the "whoaa" sections on the backbeat). Also, though it has a solid tempo for this sort of thing, and might work a little later for syncopation, "Brat Pack," by The Rocket Summer. The accompaniment accents 1(2)&(34)&12&(34).

3) Clean Language - I'm talking not even one. Word.

Good examples: "Firework," by Katy Perry, and "Ain't Too Proud to Beg," by The Temptations.

Unfortunately unusable: Pretty much anything by Lady Gaga. "Bad Romance" has all the elements except for number 3, and that makes me very sad.

Not-so-unfortunately unusable: Most rap and hippety-hop. However, there are of always exceptions.

I went through some of my music to try and find my own additions, and while I was disappointed in some songs for their single coarse word or too sprightly a tempo, I was pleasantly surprised at what I did find that fit the criteria:

"You & Me," by Tally Hall

"In the End," by Linkin Park

"Larger Than Life," by the Backstreet Boys

"Story of a Broken Heart," by Malbec

And a few other selections that I've of course forgotten by now. I was particularly tickled that "In the End" is as perfect as it is.

Tomorrow brings another day of scouring my music library, performing rhythms with sixth graders, and of course, writing the dreaded choir final for Thursday and Friday.

(dramatic horn cue)

Happy MLK Day!

After a long and exhausting (but ultimately rewarding) day off, finally lesson planning for tomorrow's sixth grade class. Hopefully this goes well!

Also, I'm quite pleased that tomorrow is the only full day of classes I have this week: finals are Wednesday through Friday and are half-days ending at 10:40. I'm excited to be heading up to CMU on Friday for a day or two! :)

Nothing further to report.

Friday, Friday, Gotta Sightread on Friday

Today was actually a thoroughly enjoyable experience. Everyone was working their tails off on sight-reading for district festival. Well, except for first hour Vocal Music Exploratory, which was pretty relaxed.

Earlier in the week, Lizzy had the sixth graders make playing cards with rhythmic notes and rests on them. Yesterday and today, she had them get into groups and play "Measure!" which is similar to "Uno!" in that you go around in a circle and the object is to get rid of all your cards. However, the main learning goal is to create a measure in a particular meter using your cards.

Person 1 puts down a quarter note, person two could put down a half note, person three would then either have to put down a card with 2 eighth notes, a quarter note, or a quarter rest to complete a measure in 4/4 time. Otherwise, he picks up a card and continues. If he puts down an incorrect card OR doesn't call "Measure!" when he's completed the measure, another player may call him on his mistake or call "Measure!" and player 3 must then pick up not only the entire discard pile, but take a random card from the hand of the person who called him out.

It's a lot more fun than it sounds, particularly when played by eleven-year-olds at 8 AM.

During planning hour, I worked with Lizzy on an improvisation/composition lesson plan for the sixth graders for Tuesday. We had some really great discussion, and while I know it will be good experience no matter what, I think it could turn out really beneficial for everyone!

Spoiler: Part of it involves moving to the beat like they do in class with pop songs, and I think I'm going to use "You & Me" by Tally Hall. As discovered by Monica and myself, any time you can use a Tally Hall song in a lesson is a win-win situation.

Third and fourth hour seventh grade choirs worked on sight-reading with Lizzy. I circulated, pointing out ways to figure out the answer to errors, answering questions, and of course reporting back to Lizzy if there were a few students who were woefully unprepared for their final exam, or if there were some who were surprisingly adept at solfege and note names. Overall, I think these two classes came to trust me a bit more because I started showing them that I do actually know my stuff.

Approaching fifth hour, I got a little intimidated because I would be leading the eighth graders in sight-reading. However, Lizzy was incredibly encouraging (as usual) and I stepped up my energy. They breezed through the Primary level SAB right away, so I whipped out the intermediate.

Of course I am always a fan of students learning multiple clefs, so I made the girls sight-read in bass clef! The sopranos were a bit concerned, but they sort of got it. The altos, expectedly, had little problem with it, and if the guys were a bit smug, they kept it to themselves.

When they sang through it as a group, I caught myself watching the music up on the board more than the choir. What do beginning teachers do? They look at the music, not the choir. I had to force myself to assume that most of the notes were right (they really were, and I could tell by ear when they weren't, either because of the chord or because of a section slightly falling apart). Tearing my eyes away from the front projection board, I saw that at least 90% students were using Curwen hand signals, were singing confidently, and fixing their own mistakes or helping their neighbors with their mistakes. Of course, the goal is to get that to 100%, but I thought, "Not bad for a Friday."

I ran through some music with a small group of girls singing some two-part music at Solo & Ensemble on Saturday, and Lizzy went on to Advanced SAB sight-reading with the fifth hour. At the end of class, the small ensemble performed their two pieces for their classmates. They clammed up a little bit out of nerves and intimidation, but were much more in tune than they were on Tuesday, and infinitely more so than on Monday. I've only known them for a week and I was proud of them.

I had a fair amount of sympathy for them, as I know all too well that ideal performing conditions do not constitute a bored peer group stretching out in a glassy-eyed ocean on the choir risers before you. However, their friends were far more supportive of them than any Voice Area Recital crowd at my university.

Sixth hour I sat back and Lizzy took over sight-reading, which was a blessing because while the level of ability is the same as fifth hour, the level of giving-a-crap in that class period is not even a registerable number. Lizzy pushed and pushed and about halfway into class, the choir started to give back to her and show her what they can do.

Turns out if eighth graders realize that they could get a lower rating than the seventh graders if they don't step it up, they'll...step it up.

The best part of my day was during sixth hour, as terrifying as that class was in the beginning. Lizzy had just worked with the men, encouraging them in their endeavors because they were getting the pitches/solfege and were singing with lovely tone. She moved over to the sopranos (Part I), and the Part II girls immediately caught my eye. As soon as Lizzy walked in front of Part II, all of the girls shifted to try and see the music on the board. I decided that this was worth watching.

There are a few chatty girls in Part II and one or two downright mean girls who can do really well if they put their minds to it. I hadn't seen this part of them until today.

By the time Lizzy went to work with the Part I ladies, every single girl on Part II was signing in rhythm and audiating their part. How could I tell they were audiating? (Singing in their heads) The looks on their faces were ones of intense study and focus, and most of them lingered on some notes, trying to hear them and figure out where they went. I could tell that one of the "problem" girls in the back was at first over-signing with large gestures to be sarcastic, but she gradually got herself wrapped in the exercise.

It was a truly empowering and moving moment. When the choir sang through the exercise, it was obvious that Part II had been working their butts off on their part. When Lizzy let the students grab their things and then head back to their seats for afternoon announcements (right before school lets out) I told her about how every single girl in Part II had been working incredibly hard. She spoke to the class about it, rewarded Part II with Jolly Ranchers, and was very uplifting and encouraging towards the class as a whole.

The guys looked at me during Lizzy's speech like I had betrayed them to be crucified. "We worked hard too!" They stage-whispered in my direction. I walked over and bent down next to them.

"I know," I said, "But there are so many more on Part II that it was compelling to watch them work. Miss Bennett knows you did really well today, I know you did, and you should too." They still looked marginally upset, so I added, "You know, you don't need candy to tell you that you did a good job."

"I do!" one protested, and the others laughed.

"No," I laughingly replied, "You want candy. You don't need it." I leaned in. "You're above needing candy to validate your performance. Now show them that you're above it every time you sing."

The high-fives I got from those four eighth-grade boys were quite possibly the highlight of my week.

You say, "Mahalo," I say, "Mahara."

Today was the first in a line of 6 student teaching seminars. Many other students complained about trying to find the building it was in. I hadn't been to the location before either, even though it's ten minutes from my house. I simply had the foresight to look at a map beforehand.

I sat with a fellow music major during the seminar, and we got lunch afterwards. It's nice having someone I know in the class; even if we don't have the same coordinator, we still sit next to each other for most of the allotted time and write notes to each other when one of the coordinators gets sassy about a student's question. Let's call my fellow music major friend Kitty.

The first hour of seminar was something I was dreading, as it would be a tutorial on the e-portfolio software, Mahara. However, once I started writing down notes on what the presenter was saying, it got easier to understand. The presenter was honest about the downfalls of parts of the system, thorough in his explanations and examples, encouraged us to tinker with it and make mistakes (all of which can be easily fixed), and answered questions patiently, understanding that it was a lot of information to take in at once.

It was a much more effective presentation than the one I was required to attend over a year ago, wherein two bored young gentlemen showed a room full of students how to submit files for twenty minutes. Thank you, kind presenter, for making me feel less terrified of the insanity of Mahara.

The teacher of the class, who is one of the coordinators, briefly mentioned that we would be learning how to write multiple lesson plans quickly.

"How long did it take you to create a lesson plan at university?" He asked, "2, 3 days? Of course! They're beautiful! But when you're teaching five days a week, and either multiple subjects or multiple classes, you will get wiped out quickly if it takes you that long to create a lesson plan. One of the topics we will discuss in here is how to quickly create effective lesson plans. All we ask for this class is that you give us what you're teaching, how you plan to teach it, and how to determine what the students learned."

"Thank God," I breathed as Kitty and I looked at each other, because it truly is a blessing. I could hear the "Hallelujah" chorus being banged out on the piano by my college voice teacher. No more conflicting lesson plan assignments from various classes, each demanding that their way is the best (nay, only) way to draft a lesson plan. No more verbose scripts to write word-for-word, or vague suggestions from professors scrawled in the margins. No more agonizing for days about how my meticulously carved lesson plan was ground to sawdust in front of the class.

In the words of e e cummings, "i thank you god for most this amazing day."

After seminar abruptly ended, Kitty and I were able to grab lunch and catch up a bit. In discussing our living situations this semester, I realized how thankful I am that I have music educator parents. They understand that at the end of a long day of teaching, I don't have the energy to clean or do chores or cook. At least not at this point, when I'm still getting used to it.

They understand that teaching requires all the energy you have, and sometimes faking more energy than you have after those sleepless nights. Because as Lizzy reminded me, "If you're on your A game, the students MIGHT get to their A- game. If you're on your B game, your students will be on their C game."

They understand that teaching is one of the hardest occupations there is, and that I have barely even dipped my toes into the water yet. I am forever grateful for their support.

Alpha Dog/Staph Meeting

Every day it seems like the days before it are all blurred together.

Yesterday, I played the name game and led warm-ups for all the choirs. Lizzy commented that I could be more commanding in my gesture (conducting), body language, and inflection. Today, for the sake of time, I just played the name game with the students, and the rest of the class period Lizzy worked on sight-reading with them.

During one of the larger classes, when I asked all the students to change seats so I could truly test my name memory, there were quite a bit of students climbing over chairs. The problem was in my wording: I had said, "Please move to another seat," and by the time I was saying, "responsibly and safely," they were already on the move and chatting. Now, the chairs are velcroed together in sets of two and three, but it was still wildly unsafe, and clearly against the rules of Lizzy's classroom.

"Excuse me!" I projected, "Is it responsible or safe to be climbing over chairs?"

They either ignored me or didn't hear me. I didn't care which: I needed to show them who was the boss. I waited until they were mostly in their seats and starting to simmer down.

"No," I protested, "Is climbing over chairs responsible or safe?"

Half the class murmured a "no," but it wasn't enough.

"Is climbing over chairs responsible or safe?"

"No," was the general consensus.

"Okay, then remember that when you go back to your seats in a few minutes." I then proceeded with the game. At the end I reminded them, "Now, responsibly and safely--so not climbing over chairs-- return to your original seats." And it went smooth as honey. Lizzy was taking notes and was pleased with my progress in commanding respect and attention.

I have to say, waiting for quiet every time the students start chatting feels absurd, but establishing my authority was worth it.

What better way to end a day full of establishing authority as well as a rapport with students, than to spend 45 minutes listening to irritating disciplinary policy and inane questions. You guessed it, we had a staff meeting.

Every organized meeting has one of those people. You know the one: she either asks questions that can be answered with common sense (otherwise known as thinking about a potential answer before asking said question), or presents a ludicrous and obscure "what if" scenario. Sometimes she is lovable enough that no one hates her, but most of the time it's almost unbearable.

Of course, I knew exactly which staff member she would be, because she never raised her hand to wait to be called on, interjected whenever she felt like it, and whenever she was called on for a question, everyone around me shifted uncomfortably/rolled their eyes/sighed heavily. Let's call her Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and the principal Charlotte Lucas.

EXAMPLE

Charlotte was explaining to the faculty that at no point can they leave their classes alone with a parapro (legal reasons).

Lady Catherine: Well, what if I have to run to the bathroom--

Charlotte: Nnnno.

LC: --can I ask another teacher to come in and watch my class?

Charlotte: Absolutely. However, that teacher cannot leave their class to watch yours.

LC: What if they stand between classes?

Staff: *SIGH IN UNISON*

Charlotte: What, like...how do you mean?

LC: You know, watches both classes. (I had images in my head at this point of a teacher being drawn and quartered by two classrooms.)

Charlotte: That...that would be almost impossible.

LC: Well I guess you...I guess...(tapers off)

Later, when discussing not letting volunteers or people not working for the district see you grade in order to protect student privacy, Lady Catherine smugly asked, "Well what if I have a long-term sub? She needs to be able to grade things!"

(Lizzy and I to each other: "THEY WOULD BE EMPLOYED BY THE DISTRICT.")

Charlotte calmly replied, "Of course a long-term sub would be allowed access to grades. I'm talking about volunteers, friends, or spouses. Those kinds of people."

Overall, I do like the staff that I've met.

Do I agree with all the decisions made in the building? No.

Will I still learn a lot from this experience? Absolutely.

Pompeii

Monica was annoyed that I didn't post any First Day details so I figured I'd start there.

My problem on Monday wasn't that I set my alarm too late. 6 am is plenty of time to get up, check my e-mail, get dressed, put on makeup, get my lunch and coffee, and head out the door by 6:45. My problem was that checking my e-mail turned into checking two e-mail accounts, Facebook, Twitter, (maybe Pinterest?), and three webcomics.

And of course, my other problem was scraping the frost off of my windshield when I was running no fewer than five minutes behind schedule. I ended up getting on the freeway about 7, miraculously making a 30-to-40-minute drive in 25.

It wasn't until I got out of my car in the parking lot at Longbourn Middle School that I realized, oh crap, I'd left my CMU Teacher Ed ID on my dresser. In my house. And at 7:30 on a a Monday morning, a good 45-minute drive from my house.

Oh wait, I'm getting my days mixed up. That ID business was today, the day my student teaching coordinator came for a visit. Lovely man, let's call him Col. Fitzwilliam. Of course all turned out well, but I was a bit frantic for a few minutes there. Back to Monday.

Saying that the Monday after Christmas break is "a bit rough," is like saying Pompeii got "a bit toasty." Give students 2 weeks off of school in the middle of the semester and they forget everything. The main problem I saw on Monday, however, was students falling asleep. Granted, they were doing sight-reading practice instead of rehearsing actual pieces, and it wasn't every student, but come on now. Lizzy said the repercussions of break should right themselves within a couple of weeks, but hopefully before finals.

I can't lie, Monday dragged on forever, mostly because I observed all day. I did start learning students' names, and found I remembered a few from each class from when I observed back in December. We started playing a name game, and every day I'm adding a row of students, so I don't get overwhelmed. Apart from that and the notes I took, however, Monday is largely a blur to me.

Lizzy (again, the alias I shall use for my cooperating teacher), is not someone completely unknown to me before student teaching. She knows my parents, and she and I reacquainted little over a year ago at the ACDA State Conference at CMU. We have since been in contact, had dinner and coffee together, and decided that this would be a really wonderful experience to have. Thankfully TEPD (Teacher Ed/Professional Development) at CMU was able to switch me over to another coordinator (since Hertfordshire isn't in my immediate area) and it worked out!

Watching Lizzy work with her students in December was a completely different experience from what it is now. In December, I observed her the two days before the Winter Concert, and helped her out with things on her to-do list. Meanwhile, she was sleepless and about at the end of her rope. Based on circumstances around that time, I can hardly blame her! The choristers were losing energy fast as well, but working hard. However, it left me a bit nervous for what lay ahead.

My doubts were assuaged when I saw her interacting with and teaching her students on Monday. She gives them every ounce of energy that she can, and sometimes more. They reciprocate, and the learning process begins. Questions are thrown at the students like a ball of used bubblegum that they must first extract and examine before throwing the answers back. Excuses are strictly prohibited, occasionally leading into a brief illustration of what would happen in a real-world situation (if you forgot your driver's license instead of your pencil, or if you didn't listen to all the information your boss gave you).

Here's an illustration of something I love about Lizzy's classes:

Today, not five minutes after Lizzy publicly acknowledged that Collins (again, alias) was not paying attention during the sight reading practice, he was the only student to quietly pipe up with the correct answer to a question. Lizzy earnestly thanked him for being involved and giving the right answer that she needed in order to move on.

The student next to Collins smiled and leaned in for a fist bump. Collins grinned, fist-bumped, and the two of them turned their attention back to Lizzy.

That seemingly insignificant scene played out in my mind all day. I think it's because it showed me that Lizzy shows her students she has high expectations of them, and they truly do rise to the challenge when called out in a way that invites them to contribute. Also, the encouragement from Collins' neighbor was touching: he thought it was cool that he got the right answer to a sight-reading question.

That in itself was enough to convince me that this semester will be awesome.

New Year, New School(ish), New Posts

About an hour ago, I decided to resume posting in this blog. I've decided that I suck at literary reviews, but I will probably write whenever I read something that strikes my fancy. I'm currently addicted to A Game of Thrones and its sequels (I really am not a fan of the series title, A Song of Ice and Fire. A more apt title would be A Song of Incest and Treachery), currently working my way through book three, A Storm of Swords.

But that's not what the larger portion of my posts will concern. I decided to reboot this blog because today was my first day student teaching. I will refrain from using true names of people or places, but I'm going to try posting a little bit each day. Every time I've tried to do a small long-term goal, I've failed, but I'm not going to this time, dagnabit. My hope is that in a few years' time, or even in May, I will be able to look back and see my progress in thinking and writing about music education.

Also there may be the occasional rant about seminar, but as those days require me to be up a full two hour later than regular school days, they may not be quite so bad.

So from tomorrow afternoon until the end of April this shall be where Ms. Renas divulges her innermost thoughts about student teaching in the Hertfordshire Consolidated School District, under the supervision and guidance of Elizabeth Bennett, while working with the choirs of Longbourn Middle School.

Yes.