Fifth Grade Thunderdome

Once a year, the weather starts to warm up, Easter decorations hit the stores, weekend festivals abound and the fifth graders that I teach are put through a grueling experience.  No, not testing, not a spring dance, not a sports competition: the grueling experience is called "Mass Choir".

How can singing be so difficult?  Children singing; just the words evoke sweetness and light, love, hope for the future, and everything that is right with the world. Most of the time, that is true for me.  I love my school and I love the darlings that I teach. We sing the cutest, sweetest songs and have so much fun.  Mass Choir, though, looms over me like a giant monster most of the school year.  Here's the background, as I am aware of it.  The superintendent declared that since the seven elementary schools feed into only two middle schools and one high school that the fifth graders should celebrate the end of the time in elementary and their coming together "as one" by performing an hour-long concert for their parents.  Every fifth grader in the district.  Whether they want to or not, whether they enjoy singing or not.

Have you ever experienced eleven-year-olds (or twelve or thirteen....) in the springtime?  I am reminded of the young creatures that spring around the barnyard, all mischief, joy and self-awakening.  I'm not saying they are badly behaved, I'm saying that by nature they are reaching for independence and acceptance among their peers.  The way in which they do that reflects whether they already possessed good behavior or not.  As planners of Mass Choir, the respective music teachers from each school do our best to find engaging and contemporary songs that these young adults will enjoy.  We also attempt to keep their "antsy" young selves busy by adding "moves" (less than choreography, more than finger-snapping) to all the songs.  From August to January, we choose songs and create moves.  We teach songs, send home lyrics and CDs, have competitions, do any positive behavior encouragement that we can to prepare the students for the big night.  We also take care of the logistics of the evening, but that's another complete story!

Imagine the last week of rehearsal. There are sixty students, in my case, one hundred at some schools, standing on risers together knowing that they're supposed to sing and move.  The superintendent never sees this part of the process.  It is the reason I came up with the term "grueling".  If not for a super-supportive specials team, fifth grade teachers and administration, it would not happen!  By nature, it is a Thunderdome of sorts - who can make whom laugh, who talks about someone else's mama, who can pass gas at just the right time - you get the picture. Somehow, some way, we manage to get them to sing and move enough to look like they know what they're doing. The only one that doesn't get the picture is the one that ordained it and will show up next week and talk about how wonderful that they can all sing together with energy and smiles and grow up to be the pride of the district.

Then the music teachers turn and smile and wave.  Within the next week we evaluate the year's show and start discussing next year's engaging music.  They all enter, they all come out, but the music teachers stay for another Thunderdome, year after year. 

When The Music Starts - My Choir at the Toyota Center! 3/9/14

It was the busiest of weeks.  I define 'busy' as any length of time where your focus is required to be on something besides that which you want to be doing.  So I guess any work day is busy.  But even work days have small breaks, lunch, planning...things like that during which you can take a breath, check your e-mail, look at your phone...without other requirements panting at you like a dog.

The undertaking of an elementary field trip is no small task.  Add in the fact that the little darlings are all in different grades and homerooms, they must wear their choir shirt, they have to perform, and certain paperwork must be turned in on every one of the forty-nine students (49!), and I received a busy week.  I was bombarded by questions, papers, looking for papers, figuring how to collect them and feed them after school, figuring out how to get them on the bus and get to the Toyota Center in time....I worked, planned, e-mailed, texted, made phone calls, and typed up papers. Don't get me wrong, I didn't procrastinate; I've been working on this since August.  It's just that the last week is crunch time, and I wanted to go over every detail as many times as possible. When the music starts, we all need to be ready!  I don't like to be wrong about anything!

I must say a huge 'thank you' to our office staff and all the teachers that helped with the little details.  And I thank the principal for just letting me handle it all and staying out of my way.  I prefer to work unassisted and without a hawk looking over my shoulder, questioning everything I do.  And I got it my way!  Pure luck, I know.  The big day, Friday, rolled around and I was up early.  Packing what I would need and getting dressed and ready.  There was a five-minute space when I, the choir director, could not find my own choir t-shirt.  But it was only temporary, the shirt was found and on with the show.  Headed to school, my choir and I got a shout-out on the radio from local morning show Dean and Rog.  That made me very happy, and I hoped that a lot of our teachers and parents had heard it.  I parked at school, carried in all my 'stuff' and was late for the staff meeting.  Not only late, but had already been mentioned, so everyone knew I wasn't there on time.  I claim Rockets game excuse!

Let it be known that during this day, I taught my full schedule of classes, except when the assistant principal spelled me for thirty minutes due to having won an hour lunch with my team.  I was missing a permission slip, I had to call the parent.  I had no less than four students without their t-shirts, and only five to spare.  I typed an agenda for the afternoon to give my principal, who was riding the bus with us.  I figured out how many students I needed to place on each row for our performance from the stands. I dealt with the fact that my underwire on one side was a goner, and hoped that the effect would not be seen on the big screen.  The day went by.  I left during planning and picked up their pizzas.  I was ready for the crowd immediately after school.

They were wound up, to say the least.  I kept them corralled, with the help of precious friends that volunteered to stay for the pizza portion.  They ate healthy portions, and then the orange things appeared. Those obnoxious blow-up noise makers were springing up all around the room!  I outlawed them immediately.  Do not blow them up, put them away, I do not want to see them.  Little did I know that one parent had supplied her child with enough orange things for every one of the 49 kids to have two!   That's a new rule to chalk up for next year.

We loaded the bus.  The principal, me, the bus driver's family and 49 kids.  We told them:  same rules as always.  The bus driver turned on the radio.  The kids sang and took selfies.  I had to trust that all those ten and eleven year olds were taking decent pics!  It got loud.  We had to tell a few to sit back down.  The principal looked unhappy most of the time.  Half-way there, she informed me that we had a "seat-hopper", so she went and sat toward the back.  I frowned at my children (they know if my smile is gone, it's a biggie) and we rode the rest of the way there.

When you take 49 students on a 90 minute bus ride, restrooms at the destination are of the utmost importance.  When that was taken care of, our escorts took our group up to our spot via the freight elevator! There were some scared little darlings, but I, the fearless leader, told them if they want to be a famous singer or actor, they have to learn about arriving the 'secret way'!  Once in our rows, we waited to sing.  Parents were arriving and bringing their child some food, the arena was filling up, kids were clapping noisy orange things and asking for the restroom again... one mom (who has been precious and helpful and kind for six years now) handed me a bottle of water.  "For you, Mrs. McCarty".  True kindness exists.

We got our three minute warning and the kids put away the orange things and focused.  Once the music started, they were in auto-mode.  They got a little distracted by the big screen, but the sound was amazing - on key, energized and sweet.  I realized that I don't focus on bus behavior or how they interact with each other.  I touch on those things - but what I really teach is how they should act and what they should do when the music starts.  They did it.  I was proud.

The rest of the evening was a nightmare of restroom trips, loud clappy orange things in my ear and a few that couldn't behave. It was also a big win for the Rockets, so that made it fun.  What I am going to choose to remember most is the sound that came from my choir, because what you do when the music starts is really important.

Why Do I Teach Music? 8/3/13

I started out as a music teacher because I could explain those musical ideas clearly.  Helping other people understand notes and what they say - I was good at that! More than that, the result was fun!  I could watch young people learn how to create music.  I was disappointed to discover, soon into my career, that music teachers were looked upon as break time for the "real " teachers.  One "real" teacher used to stand at my door with her class and tap her watch if we weren't exactly on time.  I've heard an administrator describe my subject as "fluff".  I've had countless parents say, "Oh, my child just loves your class, the say it's so much fun!"  I have come to the conclusion that the rest of the world may indeed see my subject as fun. In many districts, the classes that teach the arts are the first on the chopping block when budget issues arise.  I've been fearful several times over my twenty-four years that my position would be cut. I have mulled over my personal defense for teaching music for most of those years.  As I enter my twenty-fifth year, I'd like to explain why I chose and keep this career.  Only a few experienced individuals and I know that I'm truly working hard at opening a new world for children each time they enter my door.

I teach music for the wide-eyed wonder of the Thors.  Thor entered kindergarten the same year that Mississippi had one pilot kindergarten homeroom at each elementary school.  He and his twenty classmates looked like younger siblings that had gotten lost on a school visit.  The first time this class came to my room, I sat them on the floor in a circle, sang a song called "Happy Train", and accompanied myself on the autoharp.  Little hands reached toward the instrument.  Only the most mature few could manage to listen to the words of the song, as they had been instructed.  Thor was in awe.  It wasn't quiet awe, it was bubbly, noisy, questioning awe.  I gave everyone a turn to touch, feel, and try to make a sound on the instrument.  Eventually, we sang one verse of the song with each child's name included - "I see Thor on the happy train....."  They all tried to sing along, turned red, clapped - Thor beamed.  Every new song we learned, through the weeks - "I've Been Working On The Railroad", "Chicken Soup" and "Skinnamarink-a-dink-a-dink" - Thor sang out, mistakes or no, with a five-year-old voice that bounced off the walls with exuberance.  I taught Thor every year through fourth grade.  He matured, learned to smirk, learned to talk in class and giggle with friends when he shouldn't.  But one thing didn't change, at least through fourth grade.  When I began the piano introduction to one of out 'fun songs', Thor sat up, knew when to come in, and, like very few fourth grade boys tend to do, he sang with all his heart.

I teach music for the seriously talented.  There are too many to name, and I would surely accidentally omit one, so no names here.  I have run across serious talent at every age level I have taught.  I had the joy of taking a high school choir to state-level competition.  They listened to every concrete and abstract idea I wanted them to express in Cherubini's "Sanctus in C minor".  I watched a high school group take the wide range of choral literature that we had learned during the school year, and come up with a final concert that took on the guise of a radio show.  They wrote a script so all the songs fit in as poetry, gospel hour, even commercials!  I was able to share how to hit those high notes a little better, how to pace yourself when dancing and singing the same show eight times in one day, how to pronounce words to blend with other singers.  I saw them get in trouble at home, at school, fail classes, ace classes, get scholarships, get accepted at prestigious universities (with the help of choir as an activity), try out for parts, get them, not get them, finish college, get married, not get married, have families, experience loss - but most of all, I've seen them live their dreams.  Some of them are still performing, even teaching themselves!  I am so proud.  It doesn't matter to me if they went on to study music.  I feel I have shown them a hobby that can last a lifetime.  If you love music, you can find a place where people are sharing it.

I teach music for everyone.  Some students walk into the room and are enthusiastic from day one.  Later, it turns out they can't even sing on pitch.  By the time that discovery is made, it doesn't matter.  Anyone can sing in the place I call my music room.  Just sing your own way.  Some students excel in the paperwork on notes, rests, and meter.  They discover that the great puzzle that is music makes perfect sense to them.  I can actually see them glowing from the brain light bulb while the rest of the class struggles along and asks question after question.  At that point, I allow the one that excels to take over answering questions and helping.  I also get to instruct them to help humbly, slowly, make sure that understanding happens, and never condescend.  What am I teaching at that point?  I call it music, but there is so much more. 

I teach music to recruit new members for the families known as band, choir and orchestra. I love to encourage students to join one of the groups in middle school, for musical and behavioral/social reasons.  In today's climate, students that feel they belong to a group tend to be more successful at all of their activities.  Recently I saw a family in a restaurant.  I had taught both children, and both are now in middle school band.  I smiled and spoke, they filled me in on their activities, and I told them I was proud, and encouraged them a little more. They assured me it would continue through high school.  The father looked at me and said "This is really great, because we were never in band!"  I smiled even bigger.  Mission accomplished.

Teaching music is a power tool that should be used with care. Music is a personal thing. I try to open windows and doors that expose children to all the many, many, types of music that can enrich their life.  I also still explain those notes and rests.  By teaching music, I am more than break time for the teacher.  I am handing out tools with which our children will carve their own personal happiness.