To make up for probably not posting tomorrow...

This morning, I dreaded teaching until I got up in front of first hour and went through the rhythm warm-ups with them. I then continued to dread rehearsing the choirs until I got up in front of third hour and got going.

Lizzy and I talked about it after school, and she told me she still feels the same way on Mondays. It was then that the lady from Office Space popped into my head, and I was begrudgingly forced to admit that she may be right. "Sounds like somebody's got a case of the MONDAYS!"

Somehow, though, I got through the day.

Third hour seems to really respond well to me. They are the class I can be the most free with. Today our goals in Dodi Li were phrasing and words. We started off with phrasing the chorus. I pulled something we did a few times in my secondary methods class, and we all pretended like we were holding orbs around our belly buttons. The orbs could be big or small, but they had to be moving at all times.

"Let's all sing the first chorus together, and when we get to the long notes, do something interesting with your orb. You can stretch it, roll it, make it smaller, whatever. But make it unique to you." The girls really got a kick out of it.

I spotted one motion many girls were doing, which was to roll the orb when they hit a long note. We all did it together, and I asked them if the note grew, or immediately got louder. They replied that it immediately got louder.

"I also saw quite a few of you growing your orb," I then noted, "So let's all try that when we get to a long note." This time there was a definite growth in volume and energy throughout the note, and the girls could hear the difference.

Next, Part 1 pretended like they had taffy connecting their hands at the fingertips, and all they could do was stretch that taffy apart and back together. This really helped them connect their measures and keep their words from getting choppy. All the girls commented on how cool it sounded, and when we put the two parts together, some of the singers got chills.

For all but ten minutes of the rest of class (since Lizzy had an emergency phone call), we went through the words and phrasing for the words for each verse in Dodi Li. When we only had two four-measure verses left, the girls got really amped to learn the rest of the words by the end of class. Tomorrow we'll review and see how well they remembered them!

Sixth hour was flipping amazing. There were few side conversations, and none that stopped the entire class. They were also the only class all day where every single person was using hand signs and really visibly putting forth effort during sight-reading. Every other class, Lizzy had me mark down students who weren't using hand signs or weren't participating. I was so proud of sixth hour.

They also read through Festival Sanctus much quicker and more accurately than fifth hour. Seriously, they were just on today. Unfortunately, this makes it more upsetting when they're off, which is almost half the time. Hopefully they will be considerate tomorrow when Lizzy is getting evaluated during their class. Apparently they do well on those days so they aren't embarrassed in front of the Assistant Principal.

Tomorrow Lizzy and I are conducting a minor experiment with third and fifth hour. As Lizzy was doing sight-reading with fourth hour, I remembered the think-aloud we did in my Content Area Literacy class last semester. I thought, "Hmm, maybe the students could benefit from writing out their process of what they look for before they sing."

In a happy turn of fate, it turns out that Lizzy was thinking the exact same thing. When I breached the topic of think-alouds with her, she immediately responded with "I LOVE THINK-ALOUDS." And yes, it did sound like it was all in bold caps.

After throwing around dozens of ideas, we finally came to a solution for what to do. I wrote up a handout for the students to fill in with their thoughts after I go through my process when I sight-read. There are two sections on the "quiz": "Before I sing, here are two things I can look for in the RHYTHM so I can sing more successfully," and the same statement with MELODY. Their responses must be legible and a complete idea ("I'm looking for ___"), though since this was unannounced, spelling will not count (unless the answer is unintelligible: if I can't read it, I'm not grading it).

I will then take home the quizzes and grade them (only for very few points, and not weighted much), with the purpose of establishing a standard: if you are given work by me, it is just as important as work from Mrs. Micik, and it will absolutely be graded.

I won't tell them that next time this happens (because it will happen again) I won't give them points, but will merely check during class to see that they're all at least thinking about something they can be looking for, and are at least trying to get something on paper.

Why was this such a long post? Because I have a very, very long day ahead of me tomorrow. School, then I'm busy until probably around 6:30, then grading until my head falls off. I'm gonna have to try and get some of that grading done during the school day, though. Here's hoping this all works out tomorrow!

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.

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.