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.

Groundhog Day

Yesterday I literally worried myself sick. I was physically ill, on the verge of throwing up and passing out all morning, so Lizzy sent me home. She ordered me to go right to bed and not do anything school-related all day.

I went home and talked to my mom for an hour. We figured out that even though I've been doing things to take my mind off of teaching, I don't really immerse myself in them. I'm either thinking about teaching or feeling guilty for not thinking about teaching.

It's also hard to break out of the mindset that "teaching is stressful, so if I'm not stressed I'm not doing it right," or that "if the solution is easy, it's probably wrong." Both of those are fallacies that I have to get over if I'm going to survive. Most of the time the simplest answer is the best one, and it's staring you right in the face.

Even when I'm prepared for the next day, I worry about it. Mom suggested that I write down my thoughts and worries, put them in a box, and then put that box away at the end of the day. I decided to alter that a little bit and just find a journal I'm not currently using, write down what's been accomplished, write a note saying that I'm done for the day, and then stick it in the drawer in my bedside table.

The rest of the day was spent watching Mean Girls, napping, and watching 30 Rock. It was spectacularly relaxing, and exactly what I needed. I didn't feel guilty in the slightest, because Lizzy expressly told me to take a personal day and not even think about school.

Today started much better, but Lizzy was in a foul mood going into all the choir classes--especially fifth and sixth hour. All of the classes were wiped out and didn't want to do anything. Perhaps it's just that they're getting back into the swing of being in school every day. Maybe it's something in the water.

Or the food. Not sure if I mentioned this before, but the entire lunch staff was replaced about a month ago, and when I found that out I had just seen the "School Reunion" episode of Doctor Who. I was kinda weirded out the rest of the week.

Anyway, Lizzy had to do a ton of pulling and pulling just to get the students to even try to read through their music. I took the fifth hour boys into the side office five and six at a time, to see how well they knew their parts for Now is the Month of Maying. Most of them did okay in that room, they just didn't want to sing out during class. Which is beyond frustrating.

Denny, a new student I've mentioned working with before, actually was matching pitch on almost all the notes today! His range on Friday was about an F#3-A3, and today he was doing quite well with E3-C4 in Maying.

HALLELUJAH.

I told him I was really excited for him and pleased with his progress. "Just keep doing what you're doing!" He seemed to cheer up a bit then.

Granted, when the guys had to put their parts together with the girls, he didn't do so hot, but he was consistently trying. We also sang it a lot slower in the office than we did with the whole choir. Baby steps.

And Lizzy finally discovered the secret to getting a semi-decent tone out of fourth hour: warming up the girls and boys separately. Normally her classes don't have a problem warming up together, but this class does. Both genders back off and are distracted by the other's tone. Today they sang out a bit more.

Fourth hour is still stuck on the first page of Dodi Li. Part of it is that there are both girls and boys, and they're not all completely comfortable with their voices yet. Most of it is that most of the students in fourth hour process information slower than the students in third hour, so they are consistently a day or so behind third hour. At least I know what I'm working with so I can adjust!

Finally got them to give the energy the piece requires by threatening to go back to the beginning if they let up the energy at all. They let up a tiny bit towards the middle of the first page, and I didn't start over. Tomorrow I may actually follow through if it gets them to give more and consistently.

Had a brief conversation with a student today before fourth hour after noticing his shirt.

"Is that a Kingdom Hearts shirt?"

He looked down at his shirt. "Yes."

I gave a brief, curt nod. "Good."

We then shared our hatred for the Wonderland music and how it gets stuck in your head for weeks on end. It was a happy moment, even if it reminded me that the game came out when he was a toddler, and when I was his age.

I know I'm only 22, but there are some days when I just feel old.

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.