Insight from high school choir students.

So one of the things I like to do is give my students a philosophical assignment, question and answer on paper.  I love doing this because a) it gives me a window to what they're thinking, and then I can use that to improve their experience and our music making b) sometimes they blow my mind with either really hilarious thoughts or incredibly insightful things that I noticed but didn't realize THEY caught it, or when I didn't catch it but they did.

Anyway, I asked them the question "Why are you here? Why do we do this?" and "What do you need to do in preparation/need others to do before the concert?"  And while these answers are very VERY paraphrased, I think you will agree there is some great insight here.

Why are we here? Why do we do this?

 To get art credit

We love to sing

Learn how to sing

I want to get better

Grow as a group

Because Bri made me

Learn new songs

Express [my]self

To sound amazing!

Learn to read music

To perform

Because it’s fun

‘cause we’re awesome

To entertain and learn

 WHAT IS THE POINT?

To do what I like to do

To get better

Have fun and get to know people

Learn new things and styles

Because life is short, have a great time.

To be individuals, but work together

To better myself in fine arts

Have fun AND learn

MUSIC IS GREAT, WHY NOT?

Learn how not to get nervous

Learn music and make friends

Bonding with people

The point is unknown (ineffable)

We do it because we love it

Be able to work as a team

What do you need to do to prepare?  What do you need from others?

Pay attention to dynamics

Practice!

Sing out and sing accurately

Not be afraid

Pay attention to balance

Take a breath and CHILL

Warm up, drink water

Put forth best effort

Work on breath control

Communicate with each other

Work together

Not worry about being silly

Listen and match

Maturity

Confidence!

Consistency from everyone

Drink tea

Be unified

Relax

Remember it’s fun

Roll speed balls

No one to blame but ourselves.

While I have been on a leave of absence from teaching, I have had time to think a LOT about whether I wanted to go back to teaching at all, and if so or not, why? I've also had time to discover education from a parent's point of view, as Sam is starting kindergarten, along with many Facebook friends who are college professors, fellow parents, fellow k-12 teachers, homeschoolers, charter school supporters......  And while I was pulling weeds in my driveway this morning, I had an analogy pop up in my head that really defined a cognitive dissonance I've been struggling with since my first year teaching.

As a first year teacher, I knew I was effective.  I knew I was better than many of my music colleagues in the district, and that even with first year flaws I had nothing but improvement in front of me (and yes, I was full of myself).  I also did not see the purpose of a union, as I had a principal who stood up for us when he needed to, gave constructive criticism and redirection and was generally good to work for.  Then I was laid off.  And I had the crushing realization that it didn't matter how good I was, as long as I was at the bottom of the seniority list, I would always be the first to go.  I began to resent the union dues that were deducted from my paycheck, because what good did they do me? I lost my job anyway!  I didn't learn the value of the union until my husband's district decided to punish him for "choosing to join the Army" (an administrator actually said that out loud to me).  And then I realized that the definition of "bad teacher" is one of the most subjective terms we use in any conversation about education.

A crack in the pavement.

You see, public education is NOT broken.  When you consider the vast amounts of children that are educated within this system, and the lack of infrastructure and social safety net to assist, we do very well.  People will talk about how we don't test well compared to Singapore, or Japan, or England or [enter country name here].  The fact is, even in "the good old days" of [whenever *you* went to school] we have NEVER tested well compared to those countries.  Because our culture and way of educating is not easy to quantify.  We value creativity and innovation.  We educate in a way that reinforces those values.  We developed things that the world cannot function without, and the vast majority were educated in the public system.  That's a huge accomplishment and something to be proud of.

But there are cracks in the pavement, cracks where weeds have been allowed to grow.  And it is our own fault as a profession that we have allowed them to grow.  The cracks in the pavement are that *one* teacher you know, statistically insignificant, who really should have retired five years ago.  The college student that should never have been allowed to graduate with an education degree but the department needed the money.  Bad attitudes in faculty, principals that bully, low morale. Teachers who started out well but didn't get the support they should have and then floundered or quit.

Whether those people needed to be fired (the reformers position), or given direction and help (the union's position) doesn't matter.   Because it doesn't matter if they were good teachers at one time, or if they never were.  They are the cracks in the pavement.  While I was digging the weeds out, I noticed that the vast majority of my driveway was still looking decent.  There weren't that many weeds in the cracks, just a few.  But where I had not pulled the weeds right away, they had gotten huge and started spreading over the good pavement.  Yes, I could put poison on the weeds (removing the reformers and NCLB) or just keep on pulling them (futile as long as the cracks are there and the reformers are spreading fertilizer/fear on them), but what would be REALLY silly is to dig up the entire driveway and re-pour it just to fix a few cracks.

But we cannot ignore the cracks anymore.  The weeds are starting to take over and spread the cracks apart that will eventually force us to dig up the driveway.  And the weeds are taking over because like an overworked mother, teachers are more worried about the children they have to take care of *right now* and the weeds can wait.  No longer.

Toddler Vs. Dog

When Sam was a newborn and I was on maternity leave, I had a lot of time to think (usually while nursing or changing diapers) and I came up with a list of "why newborns are like a drunk person."  Thinks like "wake up in a different place than they fell asleep" and so on.  So, now, with five years of motherhood under my belt, I present you with:

Why Raising a Toddler is like Owning a Dog.
1. You have to keep the garbage hidden or locked up.

2. You find yourself saying "YOU POOPED ON THE CARPET AGAIN?!"

3. You spell words out loud like T-R-E-A-T or W-A-L-K or P-A-R-K

4. Everyone you meet (especially people without any of their own) is an expert on what you could try differently for behavior modification.

5. You recognize certain noises and whining to mean specific things, but none of them are actual words in any language.

6. The whining is usually the result of not spelling P-A-R-K or T-R-E-A-T

7. There is a race and wrestling match after every bath.

8.  You share table scraps and aim for the dish but don't always care if they eat off the floor.

9. It doesn't matter if you get the food in the dish, it's gonna end up on the floor.

10.  If you don't take it for a walk, it's going to bounce off the walls ALL NIGHT.

Jazz and Wynton Marsalis

One day, while teaching in Chicago (praying that one of my students would show up to class high, because he participated better when he did), my friend Heather called me and said that Marshall Field's (now Macy's) was sponsoring the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra over at the symphony hall.....FOR FREE and all we had to do was stand in line, did Tyson and I want to go? Of course, I said yes and we went with her and our other friend Krista, listened to it and had a great time.  We went downstairs to use the restroom, and one of the ushers says "hey you guys wanna go backstage?"

(well DUH)

So we got to meet Wynton and the band, and while Krista, Tyson, and I were totally geeking out and being awkward, Heather walks right up to him like she owned the place and shakes his hand saying "I think you're brilliant, and you should come have a drink with us at the Green Mill [a jazz club in the north part of town]."  He says he'll talk to the guys and maybe that sounds like fun.  We walk away and get a cab, chattering about how cool he was and YEAH RIGHT he's not coming up there, but we can go hear some more music anyway.  Told the bouncer what happened, and he sat us right next to the entrance in a giant booth AND HE CAME IN AND SAT WITH US.  Had tea, and sat in between Heather and Krista ("best seat right between two attractive ladies") and talked with me and Tyson about teaching music in the inner city, and the issues we were having with African American kids from the projects not being all that receptive, despite our successes with the same demographic in Seattle.

Fast forward almost ten years, and we go see the LCJO again in Portland.  With a lot more musical and life maturity behind us, and a different philosophical view of the purpose of music.

All the way through the performance, I thought two things: "Why am I not having an emotional response?" and "wow they are REALLY GOOD.  That's how that's supposed to sound." It felt a lot like being at a symphony concert.  For the most part, I marveled at the individual skill of the players, the polish of the ensemble playing, but in my head I heard Wynton's voice from the first episode of Ken Burns' Jazz documentary "I can walk into a club and say 'hey let's play a blues' and we can have a conversation." After I thought about that, I couldn't get out of my head the idea that it felt wrong to be listening to jazz in a place a) without a dance floor b) with stuffy, snobby audience behavior, although it wasn't as stuffy as a symphony concert, there was definitely very little interaction with the performers until the very last piece, when they FINALLY did a song that non-jazz-scholars would recognize.  It bothered me.  How did jazz go from being nightclub music to symphony halls and conservatories?  Is it contributing to the general public feeling like jazz is "inaccessible" if they aren't educated about it?  How sad, if that's true.

However, if there's anything that can be said about Wynton Marsalis, it's that he is a tireless advocate for music and music education. Tyson pointed out that it's entirely possible the program was set up to "educate the audience," avoiding the well-known hits, and introducing us to pieces we likely hadn't heard before.  That's all fine and good, and having it in a symphony hall definitely allows more people to see a group that is this amazing than if they had played in a little club or dance hall.  But overall, I just couldn't shake the feeling that it was less of a "conversation" and more of a "lecture."  Too bad Heather wasn't there to find out what club they were going to play at later that night.