Just call me Sandra Bullock...

because speed is the word of the day.

Exhibit A: First Hour Quandary

At the end of last week, I made it clear to Lizzy and to the sixth graders that we would be introducing a new element of music this week. I made it clear to Lizzy that it would be form, and that I was thinking of introducing an improv/comp element to the class toward the end of this week, as the class ends on Thursday. She seemed to have no problem with this.

Today, I introduced the element of form to the sixth graders, after we worked on some rhythmic and melodic dictation. I pushed them a little too far in the rhythmic dictation, so that was tricky to deal with (gave them dotted quarter, eighth; we'd just learned to count and say that rhythm twenty minutes prior). I had to hurry to get even a little bit done with form today, and I think I added one too many things in the last couple of minutes of class. They probably won't remember it all tomorrow morning.

After school, once I'd had some time to look back on first hour and digest it, I had an idea for a form/composition in-class small group project. I was so excited to share it with Lizzy, but she basically shot it down, asking, "You have to think about what prior knowledge they need for that. Are they really ready for it?"

She also said I need to ask myself, "Why do they need to do this? What's the end goal?" Which was a whole other upset in and of itself. It's fun. It fits with the national standards. The kids get to work in a different setting. It's a way to wrap up what we've learned. It's an ASSESSMENT TOOL. THE END. Okay, done with that.

In my explanation of my idea, I'd said clearly that it was an idea that had just come to me, that I could toy with it and try to make it work with what we have. I feel like she didn't hear that part of the explanation. Literally, sometimes I tell her a story and she won't have heard the beginning of it. Granted, in those instances she'll ask me to repeat it, so at least I know she didn't hear it but wants to. There are also times when we just misunderstand each other, and this may have been one of those times (from either end).

This was one of those rare occasions when I really just wanted her to come out and say what was being implied: that I hadn't moved quickly enough with them this term to prepare them for this task. I'm not sure if she meant to make that point, but that's what I interpreted.

Of course, I also really didn't want to hear it. Because I already knew it was true. I did a rhythm composition group project with the December/January class, and they enjoyed it and were quite successful. However, they'd been learning from Lizzy for four weeks. She'd gotten a lot accomplished, and they were ready for it. We didn't do that project with the Jan/Feb class, partially because of the dynamics in the group, but also because they were in a different place with the class than the previous group.

I felt like the message was, "You prepared them on your own, so they're not ready because of you."

Fine. I made mistakes. But if you knew that before, you could have told me last week that you didn't think they were ready for the small group in-class project, instead of letting me hang out to dry until two nights before I want to do it.

I fumed the entire drive home, then took a walk to clear my head. That was incredibly helpful. I decided to just adjust. Scrap the comp project, finish discussing/discovering form, and get into 3/4 time a bit.

This sixth grade class has been a lesson in many things, one of them being speed.

EXHIBIT B: Beep Beep Beep

Yesterday after sixth hour, Lizzy told me she'd be setting an actual timer for 15 minutes for each piece I'd be rehearsing. An extra nudge for speed and efficient rehearsing.

Today I completely forgot she'd set it during third hour, so I only went for ten minutes. I then had to run off and observe the band director, and came back to rehearse for the last 15 minutes of fourth hour.

The timer would beep every five minutes, throwing me off a little and sometimes making me lose my train of thought. Sometimes, however, it made me realize how much I'd been talking, and how much I really needed to push on through.

I got more used to the timer as the day progressed, to the point where it was merely a friendly reminder during sixth hour. And whaddaya know: we got the most done in sixth hour!

Correlation? Oh, perhaps.

Exhibit C: Lesson Tweaks

After every class today I revised my lesson a little bit. I didn't have much time to shift gears between third and fourth hour because I was observing the bands the entire time. Fourth hour went okay, though. Between fourth and fifth hour, my "You'll Never Walk Alone" lesson improved, and it did so again between fifth and sixth hours. Then, after tripping up a bit in "My Heart Will Go On" during fifth hour, I was able to rework it, take it apart further, and make it work for sixth hour. As the day progressed, my lessons grew more effective because I was planning out exactly how to best use my allotted time.

Goal: Make that happen right off the bat!

"The sun'll come out..."

Today was a pretty great day, apart from the heat and stuffiness of the choir room. It made me physically ill after lunch, but I still did my lessons with each class as planned! I was just caught off guard by it so I was a bit unfocused for eighth grade.

Started teaching the choirs "You'll Never Walk Alone," from Carousel today. Love, love, love that song. And the students enjoy it, too! Praise God for small miracles.

I'll try to get a full program up tomorrow of what each of the choirs is doing for the pops concert in May. Got some Wizard of Oz, The Wiz, Sweeney Todd, Lion King, and Akon. Because why not? I have to listen to the song and see what I think.

We got to actually use the SMART Board today with the choirs! Huzzah!! Goal is to use it tomorrow in sixth grade as well, so we'll see how that goes.

My lesson today with the sixth graders went really well. I could have gotten the ball rolling a little quicker as far as getting them involved, but after a few minutes it picked up steam. We're learning about singing in different registers in a healthy way so that 1) we can sing melodies more accurately, and 2) no one has to have throat surgery because of poor vocal habits.

I played some examples of pop singers using different parts of their voice, and pop singers with different voice types. Students had to identify first whether the person had a high or low voice, then see if they could tell what register they were using. They held up thumbs up by the top of their head if it was in head voice, thumbs down and near collar bone if in chest voice, thumb sideways and by cheekbones if somewhere in the middle. It got a bit tricky for some singers, either because of their smooth transitions, or because of gender/developmental differences.

Example (which I may briefly touch on tomorrow): If you were to sing an Usher song (I used "Without You"), chances are that you would sing it where it's most comfortable for you. Ladies (and early adolescents), that means you would sing it in a lower part of your voice. However, Usher is singing in the higher part of his range. You're both singing exactly the same pitches, but you are each in a different part of your voice. So now take "Without You." Sing the first part in a comfortable part of your voice. Then when he sings that main part again, only higher, you flip up as well. Yeah, it's pretty darn high. If this didn't make sense to you, I will be glad to demonstrate sometime and you can laugh at my lack of high notes.

So anyway.

After identifying what part of the voice the singer was using, we then identified which part of "Yonder Come Day" that voice would work best for: low, middle, or high. We did some experimenting and found a few things that worked.

I also wanted to use this as an opportunity to prove to the students that most of the men you hear sing on the radio do not have low voices. I played a few extreme examples of high voices and registers, such as Mika ("Love Today") and Usher ("Without You," linked above). Then I played "Afternoons and Coffeespoons" by Crash Test Dummies.

That is...not a voice you hear every day on the radio. I love that example.

For female voices, one example I played was the beginning of "Samson" by Regina Spektor, as she does some really lovely things. I only played the beginning of each song, as I wanted to move on quickly. If I'd had time, I would have used "Us" as an example of her using really strong head and chest voices.

Instead, for an example of a female singer frequently switching between head, mixed, and chest voice, I used "Toto Dies" by Nellie McKay [mc-KYE]. The only video of this song I can find on youtube is of a guy conducting along to it. So there you go. The chorus is really where you can hear the different registers kick in. ("Oh-wee-oh," "Maybe I'll get some Chinese," etc.)

Then we transitioned into vocal health. I briefly brought my chest voice waaaay too far up in pitch, and asked them for some descriptors. They gave me: squeaky, scratchy, creaky, weak.

I then played for them, "Someone Like You," by Adele, and pointed out that even though I love her music, artistry, and expression, she just doesn't provide a healthy vocal model. There are some times when she does flip up into a clearer head voice, and those notes are lovely and sweet. We paid special attention to the line "Don't forget me, I beg" in each chorus, and how each time she brings her chest voice up too far. Emotionally powerful, but you can only do that so many times before your voice gives up.

I asked the students to clap their hands together ten times, as hard as they could. They were wincing, their hands tingling. "Your hands are Adele's vocal cords," I explained. "Could you do that for three every day for even a week without hurting your hands?" I briefly defined what a vocal nodule is, and the kids were sufficiently freaked out. (For a good time, look up "vocal nodules" on youtube. I dare you.)

Don't get me wrong. I love listening to Adele as much as the next person (which judging by her popularity, would be a lot). She has great artistry and soulful yet catchy music. However, much like with Ke$ha/Kim Kardashian and their fry tones (see previous entry for link to article on fry tones in speaking voices of college-age women), younger and younger girls are starting to imitate Adele's voice. Sing her songs, fine. Imitate her style, fine. But middle school and high school girls don't understand that most of their voices are not developmentally anywhere near the singers they hear on the radio.

I really can't stress enough that I do enjoy listening to Adele (except for those few points when it's clear why she had surgery). But I know enough that when I sing along with the radio, I don't try to imitate her voice, particularly on sections such as the one mentioned above. And I don't feel bad because it doesn't sound exactly like her. You don't have to know much about music or the voice to know that each person's sound is different. What we are trying to do in the sixth grade class is embrace those differences and allow each student to find their singing voice where it currently is.

I got a bit ranty. I apologize. But I'm leaving it there so future me can see it.

Another favorite part that former CMU voice pedagogy students might enjoy (if you've had Mary): one girl raised her hand and asked, "Didn't the girl who played 'Annie' lose her voice?"

"I AM SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT THAT UP. HIGH FIVE." We then talked about how the same thing happens with Annie kids that happened with Adele. The quality of the sound is different, but children are asked to shove their chest voice up into their upper range. This leaves them with a really undeveloped head voice...if it doesn't destroy their larynx first.

I think the kids got all the different points I threw their way. At the end of class I asked why it's important to learn to sing healthily in the different registers of the voice. Here are some of the answers I was given (not in this specific order):

"So that you can sing pitches better all over the place."

"So you can sing one note here and one here and one here but still sound good."

"So you can sing high, even if you have a low voice, and low even if you have a high voice."

"So you don't lose your voice."

"So you can still sing when you're older."

"So you don't have to have surgery."

"So you don't have to spend thousands of dollars on surgery."

That last one cracked me up, and yet it is perfectly valid. Gotta love eleven-year-olds.

---

I feel like I have to say again that I have a lot of respect for Adele in her individuality and artistry. I just don't think adolescents should try to be imitating her sound. I feel like someone is going to read this post, get very indignant, and then angrily comment before reading the rest of my thought process. So I thought I would just sum up that thought here at the end and make it very clear.

Honey Badger

Today was one of those weird days. Just...one of those. I felt okay about how first hour went, but it wasn't great. I would have changed a lot of things, and I veered off into territories I didn't even want to get into and that had nothing to do with my objective. When Lizzy and I talked about my lesson, I got this vibe like she was disappointed in me, or thought that because I'm not afraid to make mistakes that I've stopped preparing and thinking through my lessons. I work my butt off.

I told her as such during second hour, and she replied, "No, it's obvious that you put thought and effort into these lessons. We just need to hone the focus a bit more." She gave me some thoughts on objectives and anticipatory sets that really helped this evening when I was prepping for tomorrow. I've been putting energy and thought into my lessons, just not in the right places. I feel much better prepared for tomorrow than I did for today, probably because I know exactly what I want the students to take away, and exactly why they need to know it. That "why" has danced around me thus far, but I believe I finally nabbed it.

What are we working on in sixth grade right now? Singing healthily in different registers! Why? To improve accuracy when singing in different parts of your voice, and also so you don't have to have throat surgery like Adele. Already have a girl in eighth grade who has beginnings of nodes, and it's largely due to where she talks. I talked to her mom (who had nodes removed in her 20's for similar reasons) and I agreed to help her find the right speaking register. Whereas most girls speak far too low, I think this girl may speak too high. We shall find out!

Yesterday was a seminar day. We were split up into trios for interviews. Two people would interview one person, and then we switched around a couple of times. Each time we got a new set of questions from the lead coordinator. I was the first person in my group to be interviewed. It went...not awful! I only used a few "ums" toward the beginning, and then caught myself every time I wanted to use them. One thing I could have done better is use my hands more. It wasn't the most accurate idea of how an interview would go, but it certainly was helpful!

I was told by my interviewers and by the coordinator that I gave good answers. When asked about materials in the classroom, I gave specific examples of useful materials and how/why I use them. When asked about how I would handle any one of the numerous hot topics in teaching now, I gave specific examples of how music relates to subjects across the board. Surprise! The topic I chose to discuss was standardized testing. I figured I'd advocate as much as possible within the six questions they asked me.

[Hey Kirsten reading this sometime down the road: remember, specificity is key.]

There was one question that was aggravating and disorienting, and one question that...challenged my creativity. The aggravating one was the last one, and went as such: "Today you are going to leave this interview and think of one thing you wish you'd told us. What is that one thing?"

As my interviewers and I had already broken character a few times, I felt no qualms with saying, "Doesn't the first part of that imply [infer? whatever] that regardless of what I tell you, I will still find something I'll wish I'd told you? Ugh." And sure enough, after that interview I wish I'd said something about oh, I dunno, cello.

The other less aggravating and more challenging question went as follows: "Choose three animals that you feel best represent three of your strengths in the classroom. Explain why you chose them."

I felt like I was in middle school.

I wanted to just immediately blurt out "HORSE!" but I had no real reason to that I could think of. The next animal that popped into my head was the honey badger. I planned my words very carefully.

"I would have to say that the first animal that represents a strength of mine is the honey badger," I began, as my interviewers gave a couple of good-humored snorts. "The honey badger has zero fear. I have zero fear of getting up in front of a class and making mistakes, because at the end of the day I'm a better teacher and a better person because of it."

Animal cliches were popping into my head left and right. "The second animal," I slowly phrased, "would be a mule. There's that old cliche, 'stubborn as a mule.' I am stubborn in the sense that I will keep at a lesson until the students understand it. I will never give up on them." I couldn't think of any other descriptors in the moment, but a few hours later, the word "determined" popped into my head and I wished I'd used it.

"My final attribute I want to address is my energy in the classroom. I try to be as positive and excited to learn as possible, and students feed off of that. So I guess in that sense I'm like the dog or puppy that greets you when you come home at the end of the day. You could have the worst day ever and feel awful, but that dog will always be excited to see you. No matter how horrible you feel, that excited puppy will lift your spirits and change your attitude. You could walk into my classroom and be having the worst day of your week, but instantly start smiling because of the positive energy I get rolling in the rehearsal."

Honey badger, mule, puppy.

As strange as those answers were, and for how randomly they popped into my head, I think I made them work for me.

So what animals reflect your strengths?

Fat Teacher

I was going to write a post this evening about how generally I've made a lot of progress in student teaching so far. How I've started to find my voice in the classroom. How I'm starting to allow myself to make mistakes again and be okay with that.

Because after the steaming turd of a day I've had, I was starting to feel better.

And then I was abruptly told in no uncertain terms that I am basically not going to get a job because of my weight. "It shouldn't affect if you get a job, but it probably will."

Perhaps surprisingly, my response wasn't, "That's a load of crap," but rather, "Do you think I don't know that?"

I get it. I need to lose weight in order to a) be healthier, b) feel better in general, and c) snag a husband (you know, later). I have not lived under a rock. And I get that I have to just man up and exercise already.

You may not know that I have not been oblivious to my weight gain, or to my appearance. That I long to look like I did in high school, or even two years ago. That I feel incredibly self-conscious teaching in the same room as Lizzy, who is a fit and gorgeous blonde. I get over that so that I can teach.

And the kids don't like me any less for my size. They respect and like me for my knowledge, voice, high standards, and caring attitude. I know it's only been ten weeks, but I have yet to catch wind of any students mocking me for my weight in class, and if I did, they would reap the consequences. Same goes for teasing any student in class.

Yes, I am fat. I am overweight. I am plush. I am probably--dare I say it--obese. I don't say this in a self-deprecating sort of way. Them's just facts. I believe I am fat and beautiful. But I've started on the path to becoming healthier by making some healthier food choices on a regular basis. The comment made to me may spur me to exercise on a daily basis. For that, I'm glad it was said.

But the intent seemed to be to shock me. "No!" I was supposed to say, "I can prove to them that I deserve the job, regardless of my weight!" Instead, I was bitterly upset because this person knew exactly the kind of day I've had, and decided to say it anyway.

I know there are changes that I need to make, and that it's time I started making them. Just be tactful about what you say, and seriously consider the implications. Which may be ironic after this incredibly bitter post.

I didn't include the name of who said it, because that would be poor form. I could have written so much more and gone off on tangents, but it's bedtime for me if I want to get some decent sleep.

How low can you go?

Friday I didn't get home until 9:30 pm, so I was completely wiped out. Why did I get home so late? Staff. Dodgeball Game.

The staff dodgeball game split up numerous staff members into four teams: Birds, Pigs (of Angry Birds fame), Plants, and Zombies (of Plants vs. Zombies fame). Lizzy was on the Zombies team, and I strongly considered playing as well. I decided against it, and I wish I had just gone through with it. The students and parents attending had a lot of fun, but the teachers had probably the most fun of all. Lizzy noted that it was a really great community builder for the staff, who have sort of come apart in the past few years. It was lovely to see the whole school getting excited for something, and to see the teachers really coming together, even over something as silly as dodgeball.

I was very glad I went to the game, anyway. I was able to help out the parent volunteers and teachers who were coordinating it, and got to put my zombie makeup skills and hall monitoring skills to the test. My choir students and sixth graders who came frantically waved at me and started breathless conversations with me (well the girls more so than the boys), and my previous sixth graders were impressed that I remembered their names. Probably because Lizzy has a hard time remembering all the names crammed into her head, while I am still relatively fresh as a daisy as far as the amount of names I've had to learn.

Oh, and the Birds won the tourney and the Zombies came in last, so their team captain had to eat a cricket. She embraced it and grossed the kids out by how much she enjoyed it. I think it was flavored somehow.)

Honestly, while the dodgeball game was fun, the best part of my day--nay, my week--was in fourth hour. Yes, that's right: fourth hour.

Lizzy decided after warm-ups to re-test the boys voices and toy around with their seating to see how it would change their sound. She had them come up in small groups, facing towards her and away from the girls, and they were brave enough to sing down a scale along with the piano in front of her and the whole class. All the boys matched pitch quite well when it sat in their comfort zone. She arranged them into smaller sections by row, and even reassigned two boys to sing up the octave from the boys instead of trying to push it down low. She and the whole class were very encouraging of them the whole hour so that they didn't feel so out of place singing in the same octave as the girls.

While those two boys were really cool, that wasn't the best bit.

The best bit was when she started taking some of the guys down low. There is one boy who's generally pretty quiet, mostly knows what he's doing, but doesn't sing very loud. I've never even been able to tell if he's really matching pitch at all. We all found out on Friday.

Lizzy started a sol-fa-mi-re-do pattern, starting in Eb-Major and descending by half-step. I can't remember what vowel, but I think it was "naw." Again, I could be completely wrong. All I know is that all of a sudden, I could hear Bingley, as we'll call him for now, singing a really healthy note that was quite a bit lower than the rest of the boys so far. Only one of the boys up until that point could healthily get lower than a D3 (D below middle C), and I think that one had only hit a B2. I could tell that Bingley had hit a lower note and could easily keep going.

I got you this reference image.

Lizzy called my attention. "Kirsten," she said, "That's an A." She kept going, telling me each low note he was able to reach as they continued. Every one of them was easy, free, and not forced in any way. How low did he get?

E2.

Look at that image I posted. Look at where E2 is. Now look at the lowest note most of the boys got, which was a D3. Now think about the fact that between each of those notes listed, there is an extra note (F#, G#, A#, etc).

Now find an online piano and try to hit that note. Can't hit it? That's okay. Most of the basses in Concert Choir at CMU have a hard time getting down to an E2. Nothing to be ashamed of. It's super low. This was a twelve-year-old boy. It wasn't earth-shattering or soul-melting, it was just healthy and natural.

Bingley could have kept going, I could tell, but Lizzy stopped because she was just completely speechless. She showed the class where most of the boys sat on the staff, then showed them where Bingley was. The entire class burst into applause, and Bingley got high-fives all around. Not even the boy who's sung through his change and is the male leader in the class could healthily sing lower than an A2, which is still nothing to sneeze at. Especially in seventh grade.

Every time I think about it I get a smile on my face. The entire class was completely uplifted after that, and worked their tails off until the end of the hour. Even though Lizzy had to change around the seating yet again, the boys's sound was much more confident and unified because of that voice testing.

E. 2. Blows my mind.

Counting Down the Days

First hour was quite fun this morning. We summed up what we've learned in rhythm so far. The kids always get a kick out of using the white boards, which is GREAT for review: students who are afraid to speak up in class are able to show you they know the material. The next step is getting them to speak out.

Lizzy commented at one point that while the boys were doing a great job of showing how they were thinking about the material and understanding it, the girls were sitting back and not answering. "I know you know this. Do you want the boys to take over the class, or do you want to show them how amazing you can be? Start getting involved when we ask questions!" The girls perked up a little for the last few minutes of class.

The rest of the day, I was writing notes about each class and what certain sections needed to work on (regardless of whether Lizzy caught it during class). I wrote out specific observations in a notebook that Lizzy took home tonight so she could plan around it. Even though I wasn't teaching, it was still exhausting because I had to be completely on the ball all day.

After school, Lizzy had to go to Smart Board training (or as we call it, "Dumb Board," since it's used and the cords are missing so we can't actually write on it) so I took over the extracurricular sixth grade choir. They meet once a week from now until the pops concert in May. In the fall, I think they just prepare for the winter concert. Their music for the pops concert is a so-so arrangement of Circle of Life, a partner song of Lullaby of Broadway (with Give My Regards to Broadway), and Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I was impressed by how much they remembered from last week, and were still able to do. However, I had to force them to look at the music for Somewhere because the rhythm in their heads was different from what was written.

Working with this group is completely different from working with the choirs, because we have three songs to work on in 45 minutes, and today we only had about half an hour. There's more learning by rote, particularly on songs that have trickier rhythms (ie, Circle of Life). Also, all of the students really want to be there, they're not just joining to try and go to Cedar Point at the end of the year. I loved that some of the girls came in humming the parts they learned last week, and that they seemed to really have fun.

We have two more rehearsals until the Tuesday night Festival preview concert, and the following day the students are writing reflections on the concert recording. Thursday they come in for I think half an hour (oh, the joys of conferences) and there's a professional development day on Friday. Yesterdays rehearsals were all very promising, but today they fell flat. The energy just wasn't there at all, and fourth hour still doesn't know Tomorrow Shall Be... well enough. So we'll see how this works.

"Abby" something...

Last night I was dreading my observation today. I woke up this morning feeling more confident about it, especially since Lizzy emailed me back and told me what she wanted to do with the seventh graders. My professor (let's call him George, ignore the Wickham) decided he could come for third and fourth hour, which was great because I felt more comfortable working with them in front of him, considering the way things have been going with eighth grade the past week or so.

It all went rather well! Of course I made some mistakes that I normally try to avoid, but that happens sometimes. I did rhythm cards and movement, followed by warm-ups. Lizzy took over for sight-reading (which we forgot in fourth hour...oops) and then I rehearsed Dodi Li with them. After that, Lizzy worked Tomorrow Shall Be... with the choir while George and I went into the practice room and talked about how class went and how he evaluated me.

I pointed out things I would change and that I'm working on (classroom management, consistent energy, etc.) and George noted that I'm a step ahead of some student teachers he's seen in the past who aren't aware that those are issues for them. He went through his evaluation form with me, and every box was either a 3/4 or 4/4! Even though I have so far to go and there are many things that still need improvement, George was pleased with the progress I've made and the direction I'm headed.

At one point when George was pointing out some issues I needed to work on, he said, "By the way, that's normal." Then he paused and pointed to a list further down on the page. "But you're abnormal, because look at all of these things you've been pulling in and successfully using! This is not the average!" It was a list of all the national standards I'd pulled in, movement and multisensory activities that had been used, and the ways in which I'd been able to fine-tune shapes or tones from the choir. Relief swept over me, and for a fleeting moment Marty Feldman's face popped into my brain--hence the title of this entry.

We talked extensively about an issue I had with a boy in fourth hour, and how I let him pull the energy of the class towards him instead of taking care of it quickly. I know better than that, but I was completely taken off guard by the fact that this particular student was back from suspension. A few quick fixes and I should be able to handle it much more effectively.

George also nailed my conducting. To be honest, I haven't been thinking about my conducting at all these past 9 weeks. I've been so focused on the teaching and the working relationship with the students that I let my conducting fall by the wayside. I'm not reinforcing correct singing technique with my conducting, so much of the set-up in the warm-ups and small chunks that we rehearse goes to waste. We determined that I'm throwing energy out there, but it's all in my arms and my face--not my torso or stance, where I want the students to have energy as well.

So that's a new goal for me to work on: re-focusing on my conducting and making it both crisp and technique-enhancing.

After the insane energy I put into third and fourth hour, and the twenty minutes spent talking with Lizzy and George during lunch, Lizzy sent me off to have a full half-hour of lunch, demanding that I not come back in the choir room until halfway through fifth hour. It was a break I definitely needed, and thoroughly enjoyed. I completed four sudoku puzzles!

Sixth hour was on the ball today. It was a great rehearsal. They were with Lizzy every step of the way, and we all made music together.

The choirs are starting to realize, "Oh crap, we only have 3.5 rehearsals left," and things are starting to come together. Festival is still a daunting prospect, but it looks like it'll be okay after all.

Oy, Oof, and other descriptors.

Tomorrow one of my music professors is coming in to observe me, either late morning or early afternoon. Have I gotten a confirmation? Nope. Whatever, I'm prepared for either situation. I've been dreading this for over a week now. But I think I've come to terms with the fact that he cannot fail me, so it is ultimately all going to be fine. Even if I crash and burn, it is going to be fine.

Today was a better day...somewhat. Lizzy helped me whip first hour into shape, which was really helpful because it probably would have killed me. I think tomorrow will continue to be even better on that front.

We used the white boards today to draw rhythm symbols and write out the counts to a few rhythms. This batch of kids really catches on quickly, and I think it'll be a good unit. As long as I can get all of them participating, that is. So that's my personal goal: to nail them for participation.

Tomorrow I'm planning on a really thorough wrap-up of the rhythm unit, before moving on to melody and the singing voice on Thursday.

I got to sit in the practice room once again today during the seventh grade choirs so I could spread out my stuff and map out my ideas for sixth grade and sixth hour. It was nice to get some respite and get some work done, but I could overhear how intense and kind of scary the rehearsals went. Here's hoping they shape up when my professor is here tomorrow.

Fifth hour I ended up turning pages for Mary Bennett on Festival Sanctus because let's be real: that piano part is killer. Talk about your painful rehearsals. The back row was the only row that really knew and sang their music, proven by the row-by-row singing test Lizzy had the class go through. Oof.

Sixth hour had to deal with the consequences of being so overwhelmingly disrespectful to me yesterday, so that was lovely. Lizzy lit into them. Hoo boy.

The last ten minutes of class, they finally perked up and we were able to have some fun with Month of Maying. Tomorrow we're hoping to start with that energy at the beginning and not just end with it.

I poured all of myself into that rehearsal. It wiped me out so much that I almost fell asleep on the drive home, and immediately passed out for an hour once I got home. Oy.

That seems to be the word that best sums up the day. Oy.

Subday

Was all set for first hour this morning when I left. Had a text from Lizzy on my way to school, saying she would be out for the day and that I needed to check my email for plans for each class. I'm not able to sub yet, as my paperwork hasn't gone completely through.

As soon as the students found out we had a sub, they were gone. Squirrelly, antsy, [other animal]y, and in some classes, overwhelmingly disrespectful. The tempos dragged so much that I had to snap the beat through pretty much every song and every phrase that we rehearsed. Between that and the name game in first hour, I got a nasty blood blister on my right middle finger from snapping. It's pretty much tops.

I used nonverbals (hand gestures, "Queen Victoria" stare, proximity) but fifth and sixth hour especially just did not give a flying fart about anything. I would give the boys a look in sixth hour, and as soon as I turned around, they would continue to mutter. Nothing I did mattered until I actually said, "When I look away, I should not hear more talking," in the middle of another sentence.

Basically it came down to me not having the energy to get on them about their disrespect right from the start. I let the day slide through my fingers, and I just accepted it.

It was a rough day, and I'm glad I only have to really deal with first and sixth hour tomorrow. I planned out my lessons after school, and I'm feeling okay about tomorrow. I just have to really focus on maintaining my authority, and having zero tolerance for disrespect.

Tomorrow is another day and a fresh slate. For tonight, I'm going to forget about everything school-related and enjoy an evening of stir-fry and Supernatural with my cousin. I think that's the best plan.

Click.

Today was actually quite a good day. It was just long, and I am worn out.

I got ten minutes up the freeway this morning when I realized I left my glasses on my dresser. "Well, at least my eye makeup is decent," I said to myself.

The point when I decided I was going to like today was when I was standing in the hallway as students were bustling in, and a gaggle of seventh grade choir girls (from both third and fourth hour) flocked around me asking where my glasses were and saying how nice I looked today. I explained that I left my glasses at home on accident.

"But can you see?" was the anxious question.

"...I drove here, didn't I?" And then we laughed and they went on their way. I had to explain it to every class, and even got to "blame" it on a student who got glasses yesterday and was wearing them today for the first time.

My first real lesson with the new sixth grade class went well! I kept them guessing on my questions for a bit too long, so that's something I'll have to gauge in the future. However, I kept them active and forced them to get involved, and they seemed to enjoy themselves (some of them against their better judgement, but I'll take it).

I moved a couple of seats around, namely that of a boy in the front row who had been sitting all the way on the end yesterday. In order to better keep him in my line of sight, I switched him with someone two seats over, and he was more actively involved during the whole class. He gave thoughtful, insightful answers to the questions I asked, and while I showed him that I really loved his contributions, I think I can take that even further in the future! If I can get him on my side, this class will be that much easier.

Today we discussed the definition of music (or at least the one we have in this class). Lizzy gave a really great definition, which is "sound organized in time." We differentiated between rhythm and beat, and practiced moving to the beat in a couple of songs. We even learned the patsch-clap-snap-snap pattern that will be used during the name game next week, and I was pleased with how quickly all but a few of the students caught on.

Something I loved about this class was that when one student suggested that sound was part of music, and I asked if the sound of a coffee maker was music, one of the other potential trouble students suggested that it would be music if it were set to a beat. That made my little heart endlessly joyful. I've seen Lizzy go round and round in circles with her classes, trying to get them to tell her what they think qualifies as music. Right off the bat, I think this class is going to go well. I just need to make sure I keep hold of the reins and get the right students on my side.

Lizzy kidnapped me after first hour and bought me coffee at a little place up the road that is just divine. We got back for third hour refreshed and ready to go. It was a more laid-back day with all the choirs...well, as laid-back as Lizzy could get two weeks before festival. I sat in with the seventh grade choirs, and got to work one-on-one with a girl who's having trouble navigating her head voice. Third hour was wonderful as usual, but fourth hour completely stepped up their game and was AMAZING. Seriously, the sounds were so unified, and the guys and girls were each supportive of each other that it all worked! It was really magical, as cheesetastic as that sounds.

Lizzy and I went to dinner at a great pizza place 5-10 minutes from the school. We talked for a solid two hours about everything: how I felt earlier this week, our personal lives, things I've figured out, things she's figured out, plans for the afternoon/evening after festival, Michigan wines, and finally how I'm doing this semester.

Lizzy's had about eleven student teachers (keep in mind they usually only stay with her for eight weeks). She's asked every one of them to take over for a sixth grade mini, like the one I just took over yesterday.

Apparently I am the first one to actually grab the bull by the horns and go for it. The other students either caved and wouldn't do it, or underprepared and completely fell on their faces the first day. She told me she was proud of me not just for taking it over so confidently, but for actually taking the time during the school day to separate myself, organize my thoughts, map things out, and really strongly consider my reasons for the choices I was making.

Example: the seating chart. I was tempted to do what Lizzy did, which was let all the students sit where they want, then that day rearrange them alphabetically by last name (apart from some potential problem students). Then I considered my mom's option when she was teaching: alphabetically by first name, to help her better remember names. To me, both of these options (particularly the former) seemed like something the kids would be sick to death of by now, and honestly alphabetical by first name would probably mess me up even more.

Instead I took a note from The First Days of School by Harry Wong, and handed each student a card with a number on it as they walked in the door on day one. This card happened to be their Day One Quiz they were to fill out during class and get points for. They were to find their number on a seat and sit there. I left the seats as they were yesterday, choosing to change a few today instead.

Tonight Lizzy told me that she was thinking, "Oh, I wouldn't do it that way," and then stopped herself from saying something because she knew that I had thought about options and had reasons for wanting to try this one. And at the end of class she was impressed by how well it had turned out.

Overall, even though this week had a rocky start, I came out of it stronger and more sure of my abilities and my place in the classroom. Everything has really started to just...click.

Just call me the Swan Queen

Today was the first day of the new sixth grade. I was incredibly nervous, even though I had everything planned out.

It went pretty darn well.

There were no major points of disorder, I didn't really have to whip out the Queen Victoria stare except to give an example of "things you don't want to have to see in this class." There's one student with a behavior plan, but he was perfectly fine today. Apparently he does okay in his electives because they're first thing in the morning. There are a couple other boys who could easily cause some issues, but I never had to really reel anything back in like with the last class on their first day. We'll see how it goes!

There's also a tiny, sweet girl who's an English Language Learner (Latina). I was impressed that she was able to follow along with the "class expectations quiz" they filled out as we went along in class.

Two more boys are in the class who have a parapro with them in the room at all times. One left class fairly early. I think the parapro said he has some mild autism. I hope I can connect with him on some level. The other is outspoken, but generally pretty pleasant. He's sometimes rude, but doesn't really understand when he's being so. I called on him frequently to face forward, or put my hand over my mouth to show him that he needed to stop talking, and he smiled and acquiesced. I wasn't sure how effective I was, but Lizzy said she noticed he responded well to me and that with someone else it could have easily gone awry. I did a little fist-pump inside my head.

Overall, it went quite well. I was confident and took charge. And Lizzy said I was relaxed. Which was great, because I was going a mile a minute inside. It was like a swan on the water: serene and natural on top, but under the water the legs are churning like crazy. It's a bit of a worn analogy, but it really fits.

Until festival is over, all I'm doing with the rest of the choirs is just running warm-ups. By the time festival is over, I'll be halfway through the sixth grade unit and will be able to handle doing that and a choir lesson or two (or four) in the same day (hopefully). And also Lizzy won't be going nuts every day, agonizing over festival.

Today when I was in the practice room (where I go if I need to get some work done) I worked out my lesson plan for sixth grade for tomorrow. Thankfully I was able to finish it during the day, so I was able to hang out with some friends tonight. It was a good night: I was able to relax and not worry about teaching. Even at lunch, I made myself go to one of the teacher lounges for lunch so I could do some socializing and take a break that I so desperately needed.

Yes, I would say that overall today was a success. I'm nervous about tomorrow, but I'm sure it will go well!

EDIT: I forgot to mention this tidbit of hilarity from third hour.

Lizzy was talking with the girls about how she wanted a more womanly sound. She got to talking about how there's so many wonderful things about being a woman. "Don't ever believe that it's always better to be a man. Trust me, I've been one." She stopped and thought about that statement. "Wait, no...."

But the damage was done.

"WHAT?!"

"NO THAT CAME OUT WRONG FORGET I SAID IT"

Meanwhile I was sitting in the practice room, lesson planning, and I wanted to pop my head out for comedic emphasis, but I resisted that urge. She was embarrassed enough to have let that sentence pass her lips, and she needed to continue with rehearsal. I'm sure she meant to say something about living with her husband, but it got lost in translation.

"Mrs. Bennett," I heard one girl proclaim, "You just made my year."