Posts Tagged ‘music education’

Just a quick write about something that’s bugging me…

 

At the beginning of the school year I did two days of training to become a mentor teacher. I have a really awesome elementary music guy that I observe and meet with weekly. He’s doing really well, but I was a little weirded out by the way he was writing his lesson plans.

What I noticed with his was under “OBJECTIVES” he’d list what he wanted the students to know/do, but he’d also list his procedures. Am I wrong in thinking that’s wrong?

The conversation we had about it went like this…if you put something under “OBJECTIVES” it should have a standard that goes with it. It just makes sense to me. Anything else would go under another section.

He changed it, hopefully not just to make me happy but because it made sense to him as well.

Fast forward a bit…

I’m toying with putting together a website to put out a professional “hey this is who I am as a teacher” kind of thing. To figure out what I want my site to look like, I’ve been searching out other music ed professionals to see what they’re putting out on their sites. Some include sample lesson plans.  Several newer teachers do the same thing the teacher I mentor does…they put what I consider to be procedures under objectives. It just feels SO WRONG to me, lol. Am I alone in thinking it’s wrong? Is that just a common new teacher mistake? (That’s assuming that it’s a mistake at all, of course.)

(In my district, our lesson plans must be evaluated twice each semester so every teacher (in theory) is writing lesson plans. I’m going to check around and see what others in my building are doing.)

 

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This has been an interesting/frustrating/exciting week.

Story #1

My district conducts Instruction Practices Inventories (aka IPI) on a semi-regular basis.  Their purpose is to measure student engagement. After the IPI we have a debrief. Results are broken down by core classes, non-core classes, and then the overall. Monday, we had a debrief with a former administrator who’s part of our school improvement team. About halfway through the debrief…

Me: What do you consider to be non-core?

Him: You’re non-core.

Me: SAY WHAT??? “Actually, under NCLB, the arts are defined as being core classes.

Him: No it’s not. You’re wrong.

Me: ARE YOU *BADWORD*ING KIDDING ME???  “No, I’m not wrong.”

Him: We can argue this all day, but I’m right. I know I’m right so there’s no need to discuss it anymore.

(Now, for those of you who may not know this…I don’t mind being wrong. I’m wrong a lot and I will freely admit it when I’m presented with the facts. However, DO NOT *badword*ing dismiss me in front of a group of people and definitely don’t do it when it’s easy to find out the info.)

Excuse my language, but I was pissed.

I printed out the appropriate pages from the NCLB Teacher Toolkit that addresses what is considered a core academic class. When I found him later, I shared it with him.

Him: Yes, but our state doesn’t define it as a core class so I’m still right.

FACE PALM

Me: Feds say it is. Even if you’re right (which you’re not) that would trump state policy, right?

Him: No, but WV doesn’t define it as a core class. (See, NCLB leaves the definition of “the arts” up to individual states.)

Me: Can we talk about this tomorrow?

Him: Sure can! *smile/wave*

I took it to the Twitter.

For those of you who may not know the awesomeness that is Jack Deskins…he’s the arts coordinator for the West Virginia Department of Education.  He’s one hell of a good thinker. You should be following him. It’s just a smart move. Trust me on this.

(No, he didn’t pay me to type that. However, if Jack is reading this, we agreed on small, unmarked bills.)

Knowing where to track down the exact wording and policy, I printed and highlighted…jump to this afternoon.

Me: Hey! Guess what!

Him: What?

Me: You’re wrong! (recites policy numbers and exact wording from memory with a flair that would make any theatre teacher proud. Well, if we had one he or she would have been proud.)

Him: Well, our county doesn’t consider it to be a core class.

Folks, at this point I’m ready to stab him with my pen. I think at this point I shook my hands in the air with a “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME” expression on my face.

Him: For the purposes of the IPI, we don’t consider you to be a core academic class.

REALLY? He couldn’t just tell me that in the first place?

Whether my district considers the arts to be core or not, they should. Let’s redo that IPI form. If they don’t, they’re pretty much paying lip service to state and federal policy, don’t you think?

Story #2

My music appreciation class has been working on protest music this week. We’ve focused on different events in American history and the music surrounding those events. We’ve analyzed different song lyrics and determine if it was a protest song. If it was, what’s being protested? What makes you believe it’s a protest song? Etc…

The final project for the unit is for them to write their own protest song.

Last week, I previewed the unit we’d be working on this week. I told them the events we’d be looking at with the suggestion that they should look up some info on their own. (What the heck was I thinking?)

They knew we’d be discussing the Occupy Wall Street protests today. Friday, Monday, AND Tuesday I told them to turn on the news and see what they could find out. Today, I asked them to take markers and write everything they knew about #OWS on the board.

Crickets Chirp

After some coaxing, I got “New York” and “Banks” #ugh

I shared this article with them.

I questioned them. “What are some reasons there’s no good protest songs for this movement?”

*Insert picture of me pulling teeth trying to find someone that would make even a feeble attempt at answering.*

“Well, what about the Tea Party? Did they have the same issues? Do they have an anthem?

One of my darlings answered, “Tea party? Like with dolls and cups?”

To sum up the next 15 minutes of the class, I lost it on them. I ranted and raved about how dangerous it is to be ignorant.

“How can you write a protest song when you have no idea that you’re even supposed to be mad? Do you not get what’s going on in this country? Your rights are being stripped away and your potential livelihood threatened and you don’t even have a clue!”

(I’m not sure exactly what I said to them during my little speech. However, when I was finished, several of them were ready to march on Washington. I guess that means something got through?)

At the end of class each student could articulate a topic they were passionate about and knew the angle they’re going to take when writing their songs.

Tying It All Together

My college music ed program cranked out band directors. That was their focus. I was convinced I wanted to be a band director. My first job was a band job. I didn’t last long for several different reasons.

My music ed program (which did what they did really well) did me a disservice. By being so focused on training band directors, it gave the impression that band was the most important thing. Those other classes were just things you had to do until you could get the band program you wanted.  I bought into the idea that band directors weren’t teachers like everyone else. Elementary music classes were good, but they were most important because they gave the “real” teachers a planning time.

None of my college professors actually said this. It’s what they didn’t say that led me to believe these things.

It wasn’t until I landed my current job that I got it. It was a long road that left me feeling frustrated more often than not. I was swimming against the current. My heart knew what was true even though my brain was trained to believe differently.

What I teach is important.

What I teach has value.

What I teach makes a difference.

I teach music.

Better than that, I get to teach stuff other than band 🙂

I don’t need NCLB or Policy 2510 to tell me that students need music. I don’t need some guy in an IPI debrief to tell me I’m right.

At our football game on Friday, the band directors and their assistants (that’s me) from the 2 schools were chatting. We were discussing an upcoming conference geared toward teachers who teach non-performance based music classes. The director from the other school said, “I’m not a music teacher. I’m a band director. I don’t care about that other 80% BS. I’m here to build a band program.” (Wow, sounded like me right out of college.)

I literally bit my tongue…for about 5 seconds.

Okay, I actually didn’t say much beyond, “I respectfully disagree with your position regarding music education.” However, I was cursing a blue streak at him on the inside.

I was really annoyed with that guy Friday night, but tried to not think about it once we left the game. I was reminded of it today while I was mid-rant with my music appreciation class.

Both my students and that guy have the same problem. They’re short-sighted and ignorant. Also, they don’t realize that they’re short-sighted and ignorant. My students had no clue what was going on in the world around them. They didn’t know that they don’t know and they really didn’t care to learn. After my little speech (which has been building for a while) they opened their eyes a bit.

Band director guy is very happy in his band director world, taking the easy road of cranking out a product and not having to work to reach the kids that aren’t self-motivated like his band kids are.

I bet that band director thinks his job is more important than mine because he puts out a performance each week. I bet our higher-ups would agree with him. Just like my students needed me to get mad at them so they’d stop and think and figure out what gets them fired up…to find out what they’re passionate about, I needed band director guy to get me angry so I’d remember how strongly I feel about what I do.

Does this mean that I think all directors are like this guy? Of course I don’t. But, I will say that this guy teaches at another school in my district. Pair that with the conversation in story #1 and you might get an idea of how music ed is viewed here. We’ve got it better than some, but we still have a way to go.

I’m gonna bust my ass to make sure we get to where we need to be.

 

 

 

I’m writing. I’m sleepy, exhausted, and I probably even smell a bit from being in the sun and sweating all day. But, instead of sleeping or showering, I’m writing. (I’m making the effort here, folks!)

For the last couple of days our school has hosted Pacific Crest, a drum and bugle corps, while they prepared for Drums Across the Tri-State. I wish I had the words to adequately describe the experience. They slept in our gym and practiced on our field. They suffered cell phone withdrawl thanks to our lovely mountains and our little pocket of no coverage 🙂

We’re having band camp this week and our kids have several opportunities to watch Pacific Crest rehearse…to see how hard you have to work to be good at something. In addition to that lesson, our kids were able to spend a couple of hours with the PC folks and hang out with them in their sections. Even with all the time our kids spent watching “our corps” rehearse, they still weren’t prepared to see them take the field in full uniform.

The whole thing reminded me of kids on Christmas morning…the way the eyes light up and everything is one big possibility. It was a beautiful sight. One particularly important group (Pioneer, I think) was fairly small. Compared to the other groups, they were downright tiny. They were important to us because they showed our kids that you can be small and be good. We’re in a major rebuilding year. We’re VERY small this year and the kids (and quite a few adults) are upset about it. I think/hope that our kids feel better about themselves after seeing the different drum corps perform. I hope they see that hard work DOES pay off. I hope they see that size doesn’t always matter.