Snow Business

As the year draws to a close and the holidays are behind us, it might be difficult to find musical inspiration for the new year.  Well, for me, sticking with what has stood the test of time is always a good start.  I remember years ago watching the movie White Christmas.  Aside from the title song, the one song I always look forward to is "Snow."  It was probably deemed a "throw-away" song back in its day, but the overlaid harmonies and jazzy swing rhythms have stuck with me, kind of like a good snowfall!  Though I don't get much snowfall where I live, I do like to bring the notion of snow to my students and offer these two bits of Snow Business for you to enjoy!

Snow Business #1
Here is a variation on the song Let Us Chase the Squirrel.  I have changed the title and lyrics to Let Us Pass the Snowball:

This can be a fun warmup activity at the beginning of a lesson:  as students sing the song, they pass a "snowball" (pom pom, bean bag, etc.).  The student holding the snowball at the end of the song then throws the snowball in the air while classmates sing a vocal glissando following the up and down movement of the snowball.  The range and duration of the glissando is, of course, determined by how high the student throws the snowball.  I also add in that if the student drops the snowball (whether by accident or on purpose) then their pitch should follow the snowball all the way down.  Repeat as many times as you wish.

Snow Business #2

I offer here an interpretation of a piece from Music for Children, Volume II, p. 45 #4 Andante by Orff/Keetman (Margaret Murray edition).  I came across this piece many years ago as I was looking for a piece to teach at my Orff Level III practicum.  I ultimately used a different piece, but always had this little gem in the back of my mind.  I ended up writing lyrics for it and slightly changing one of the ostinatos and used it with my 4th and 5th grade chorus for our winter concert a few weeks back.  I hope you enjoy it!

My Special Power is Music

This past week, I was inspired to share and play around with the song/story Abiyoyo by Pete Seeger.  I was first introduced to this story years ago at a summer workshop about music and children's literature.  What a deal that was!  Two days of paid training in an air conditioned space with a packet of books and sample lesson plans, plus time to make and take any manipulatives you might need to supplement the lesson?  Okay!

Since then, Abiyoyo has become an annual favorite of my Kindergarteners, who get to sing along with the title song, playing "air ukulele" and using pointing finger magic wands to help tell the story with me.  But their favorite part is when I put the book away and tell them that they are going to help me do some more magic tricks.  They then spread out throughout the room and as I say the book's magic words - Zoop!  Zoop!  Zoop! - they turn into whatever picture I show them.  After many years of doing this, I am still buoyed by their squeals of delight as they twist and turn their bodies to form the poses.  If we have time, I finish the lesson off with a "magic ball" trick I learned in an Orff master class a few years ago.  It never fails to impress the most skeptical of students, who end up thinking that I really can perform magic.  The true test of a good lesson is when the children ask to do it again, and this one has never failed.

But then, my true special power is MUSIC.  I never really thought of it that way until last week, when I received the following from a 5th grade boy:

"One day, Mr. D was waking up.  Suddenly he saw it was 7:00!  He quickly went out to school in his D-MOBILE.  He flew over to his classroom very quickly.  He was then ready for another boring day at school.

About Mr. D --> Mr. D was a strong handsome music teacher.  He always wore jeans and a polo.  He had short hair and a beard.  But people did not know that he was secretly a super hero."










Powers --> flight, handsomeness, knowledge

      Super practice suit
      Mask
      Awesome skills of instruments in brain
      Handsome
      Utility belt of instruments
      Super D-Mobile







I can only thank Evan for this depiction of my super hero personality and, while it's true that I am handsome and have "awesome skills of instruments in brain," I am a bit envious of the utility belt of instruments and the Super D-Mobile.  And, in reality, my alarm will go off at 5:00 AM tomorrow and I will wake up, head to school and, rather than endure another boring day, I will share my special powers of music and magic (and aren't those the same thing really?) with my amazing students!  Cheers to you all for sharing your special powers to inspire those around you!

The Good, the Not So Good and the Um, Really??

Talent Show.  Depending on your experiences, those two words might conjure up feelings of anxiety, pride, excitement or dread.  Over my seventeen years of teaching elementary general music, I have experienced all of those feelings and more.  Let's take a walk down memory lane:

The Good

Luckily, I have witnessed some very talented young students.  As their music teacher, I do what I can to nurture their budding talents, but there are some things that I just don't have the time or talent to teach.  Take, for example, the 8 year old who played Beethoven's "Fur Elise."  Not just the beginning section, but the whole thing.  Flawlessly.  From memory.  I certainly didn't teach him that.  Or the 10 year old (whose height and maturity made her appear much older) who choreographed her own modern dance complete with standard ballet maneuvers and acrobatics, all very nuanced and musically expressive.  I certainly didn't teach her that.  In fact, many of the Good talent show participants had the advantage of private lessons and dance classes.  And I have marveled at their talents.  But the ones that stand out are the ones who didn't have those advantages and still showcased wonderful talents that they had honed themselves.

I remember a curious 5th grader who taught himself how to play the ocarina.  By itself, that is an accomplishment.  But he didn't stop there.  Once he had figured out the ocarina, he taught himself how to play the melody of a popular song of the day.  Pretty impressive.  But he didn't stop there.  He asked a girl in his class if she would like to dance to the song while he played.  So she made up a lovely dance to go along with it.  And they performed together and I got chills.  On the opposite end of the spectrum, but just as satisfying, were the two boys who got together and did a comedy act that actually made me laugh out loud.  I still remember one boy explaining the "ancient art of phrenology" (studying the bumps on your head) as he bonked his friend's head and then did a pretend "reading" of the resulting bumps.  Ha!  Ah yes, when children are left to their own devices, their creativity tends to shine through.

The Not So Good

But sometimes, children left to their own devices just aren't ready to perform in front of others.  As a teacher, these are the ones who crush me.  I really want them to do well.  I really want to help them.  But when 70  students are trying out for a one hour talent show, not everyone can be in it and a line has to be drawn.  Sorry cute little girl, but lip syncing (in my humble opinion) is not really a talent worthy of the stage.  Especially when you forget to move your lips half of the time.  And just stand there.  Maybe next year we can work on actually singing.  I've heard you sing in music class.  You can do it!  And boys, that rap you made up about McDonald's is just fine, but your rhythm was all over the place and you forgot the words.  Twice.  Keep on practicing and try again next year. 

And the, um, Really?

And then there are those memorable talents that, for one reason or another, despite their best efforts, fell into a category of their own.  Needless to say, most of these didn't make it to the stage (although there are a couple that did and I take absolutely no responsibility for those decisions - more on that later) and for good, sometimes laughable, reason.  Now, don't think me unkind, but some of these delusions of grandeur still make me chuckle.  I'm sure these students have gotten over it and would laugh too, especially considering of they are, by now, 20-something men and women. 

Ah, yes.  My first Talent Show as a teacher was some fifteen years ago.  The veteran music teacher I worked with schooled me in how to put the whole thing together, including having other teachers help with the judging so we wouldn't have to bear sole responsibility for disappointing little would-be stars.  It was all very clear, no fuss and, in the end, easy to decide who would be in the actual show.  But when someone else was running the show, the results sometimes went a bit awry.

Witness Jimmy the Finger Bender.  At least that is how I will forever remember him.  I take no responsibility for allowing him to "perform" in the epic talent show coordinated by a colleague whose thought was, "If they're brave enough to try out, they should be in the show."  Well, sure, maybe, sort of.  So, Jimmy was given permission to bend his thumbs all the way back to his forearms, grossing out the Kindergarteners in the front row, while that music teacher wryly played "Get Back" by the Beatles as background music.  Had I been in charge, I would have told Jimmy that being double jointed, while a curiosity, is not really a talent. 

One year, the PTA of my school decided to host a talent show.  I'm not quite sure how it was all put together, but rather than select the talent, I was asked to be the emcee.  I was happy to do so and stood pleasantly by as one act after the other took the stage after my spirited introductions.  Then the group of three girls took the stage for their dance.  Now, picture this:  three girls dressed in black tights and knee-length dresses, hair pulled back into pony tails, very slick.  Two of the girls are a full head or more taller than the third.  The took their place on stage, centered and slightly toward the back, the smaller girl sandwiched between the others.  They had obviously practiced, right?  Cue the music.  They waited a few beats, then began.  Oh, did I forget to mention that they were wearing tap shoes?  Yes, they were.  They started walking forward.  Click click click click.  Then backward.  Click click click click.  Over and over and over and over.  Click click click click.  But as the routine wore on, they began to get out of sync.  Cl-click.  Ick-click.  Lick-cli-cl.  Cl-lick.  Then came the Big Move:  the group stopped and the two taller girls formed a bridge with their arms.  The smaller girl walked behind them and did a sort of "fall of trust" into their arms.  The two taller girls then flipped the smaller one over and her heels loudly hit the stage:  CLICK CLONK!  It wasn't that graceful but at least no one was hurt.  And then, back to the clickety-clack.  End scene.  This might have been more successful if not for the tap shoes. 

Like I said, I take no responsibility for those acts since I had no hand in selecting them.  If I had, I would have found a way to let them down easy or work with them on their act so it would be performance ready come show time.  But there are others that I did bear witness to and, mercifully, kept from embarrassing themselves in front of an audience. 

I was part of the team of judges that included the other music teacher, one of the PE teachers and the school counselor.  A fourth grade girl was called into the room for her tryout.  We asked her what she was going to do.  She told us that she was going to sing the pledge.  I was a bit confused, since we normally speak the Pledge of Allegiance and sing the Star Spangled Banner, but maybe she was equally confused due to her nerves.  She proceeded to start reciting the Pledge of Allegiance at warp speed, slowing down midway through to bend on one knee to tie her shoe and finish with a flourish, standing up on the word "all."  Thank you.  Next!

By far the most memorable audition featured a group of girls doing a dance.  To give you context, the Back Street Boys were popular then.  And these 5th graders were in love with them.  And watched their videos all the time.  So I'm sure, to them, it seemed natural to do the dance from the video.  Cue the music.  Standing side by side, the girls began their dance which, at first, seemed pretty routine:  lots of interpretive hand motions and mostly step-touch in place.  As the routine wore on, it became clear that four of the five girls had practiced together.  They were fairly well synchronized and knew what they were doing.  But the fifth girl, on the stage left end, had obviously been a last minute add on.  She kept looking over at the girls next to her, copying their moves a split second later and doing her best to keep up.  It was nothing that couldn't be fixed with a little practice.  Then came the big move.  After all of that step-touching, we were to be wowed with a turn-2-3-clap that became a highlight of the dance.  But not for the reason they intended.  Four girls started to move to their right:  Turn-2-3....The fifth girl started to move to her left:  Turn--2-3....and CRASH!  Then three girls continued:  Turn-2-3-clap!  And two girls picked themselves up and tried to get back into the routine.  Meanwhile, stunned and, admittedly amused by this turn of events, all I could do was look down at the paper on my desk, trying to avoid further eye contact with the doomed quintet of dancers.  I felt my face turning red as I tried to stifle the laughter that was building up inside of me.  And then, to make it even more unbearable, the PE teacher leaned over to me and snidely said, "Mr. D., you might miss something."  Teachers are awful!  In that moment, I felt my shoulders bobbing up and down as a small snort escaped my mouth.  We all clapped appreciatively for the girls who, to their credit, finished their routine and knew that all were bets were off. 

Is there a Talent Show in my future?  Probably.  Though I have mixed feelings about them, I understand that students and parents enjoy them so I will probably have little choice in the matter.  All I can do is try my best to nurture my students' talents and remind them that one of the most important aspects of any show is the audience!

Getting To Know You, Part Two

A couple of weeks ago, I had the honor to present a Saturday workshop for an Orff chapter out west.  I've been presenting sessions since 2005 at local, state and even a few national conferences and even shared a few ideas for a few hours at a time with music teacher groups supervised by friends of mine.  But this was the first time I was invited to travel, present a full day workshop and get paid for having a good time hanging out with like-minded people and sharing some of my favorite activities.  Score!

At the workshop, I openly shared this fact:  in my previous teaching position, I was lucky enough to see my students twice a week plus every other Wednesday.  That school is on a trimester report card calendar so I was able to see my students 30 times before reporting a music grade.  This frequency of instruction allowed me to really get to know my students and garner a fairly accurate knowledge of their skills.  In my current teaching position, so-called "specials" classes are on a 6 day rotation.  That combined with the quarterly report card (nine weeks) means I see my students a total of 6 times before report cards are sent home.  As any pre-schooler might be able to tell you, 6 is a lot less than 30!

Needless to say, it has been a lot more challenging to get to know my students when seeing them so infrequently.  Name tags have helped.  Seating charts (for some classes) have helped.  Luckily, I have 16 years of experience to keep me afloat as I navigate these new waters.  Aside from getting to know my students, I have had to take a really good look at what I'm teaching them.  Thinking back to my first year of teaching, not knowing any better, I just taught the next song each week and never really allowed my students any time to get to know the material.  Over the years, I learned that spending some time with the material is crucial to fostering students' understanding of it.  Worrying about checking off a list of standards that students should know does not foster good musicianship.  Spending time with good material, enjoying it, nurturing it and watching students grow with it is, in my opinion, much more important.

To that end, I have looked at some of my traditions and had to say, "maybe next year."  There just isn't time enough to do them justice.  Happily though, some have remained in tact because I feel they are worth the time.  For example, during the last entire grading period, my Kindergarten students learned about the Bremen Town Musicians.  It is a unit that typically lasts 6 class periods or, in this case, an entire nine week quarter.  But it has been worth it.  Every one of those 6 class periods was packed with singing, movement, literacy, instrument playing and, well, standards.  For the curious among you, here's what we did:

• Classes 1 and 2:  read through the Bremen Town Musicians story.  Any version will do, but I prefer the illustrations in the Ilse Plume edition.  As I read the story, the students make the appropriate animal sounds each time one is mentioned (donkey hee-haw, dog woof woof, cat meow, rooster cock-a-doodle-doo).  Each time an animal "goes down the road to Bremen Town," we sing a theme song I wrote and get up to move like the animal just introduced (gallop, walk, tiptoe, run).  We also run when the robbers run away, tiptoe when one of them comes back and run again when he runs away at the end.  One the story is finished, I show the students how to make rhythm patterns from pictures of the animals and play them on instruments.
• Class 3:  Rooster Day - we do a movement activity to Mussorgsky's "Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks," we sing Let's Put the Rooster in the Stew along with John Feierabend's Choppity Chop rhyme.
• Class 4:  Cat Day - we sing Ding Dong Diggidiggidong (from Music for Children), we share stories of why the cat might be gone, we sing The Cat Came Back.
• Class 5:  Dog Day - we sing BINGO and practice taking away the letters one by one, we sing Bow Wow Wow and learn the lovely circle dance that goes with it.
• Class 6:  Donkey Day - We sing Sweetly Sings the Donkey, Donkeys are in Love with Carrots (with movements I learned from someone at a recent Orff workshop - thanks!) and sing and move to the Donkey Riding Song.

After spending so much time on Bremen Town Musicians, you'd think the students would get bored with it but, no.  Not true.  Not one student groaned, "not again!" as I suspected they might.  Instead, they enthusiastically asked, "What animal are going to learn about today?"  Score!

Getting to Know You, Part One

Happy New Year!  Okay, so I'm a bit late, but I wanted to make sure the first month of the year didn't go by without writing something.  Three months into my latest teaching gig, I've started to get more comfortable with who, what and how I'm teaching.  Even though I've taught for 17 years, any new situation is likely to throw off my game and make me question myself:  how do I compare to the teacher I'm filling in for?  Do the students already know this?  How receptive will they be to active music making?  Luckily, these questions pop up less and less the more I am there and, thankfully, I am winning over most of the them.  This process of getting to know my students and reflect on my teaching reminds me of two of the more profound learning experiences of my life.

I don't quite remember the reason why, but one day in my college calculus class, the professor asked if any us spoke German.  I awkwardly raised my hand, something I didn't often do in a math class.  He asked, "How do you say 'to know' in German?"  I was happy to explain that there are actually two ways:  kennen, which is used for social knowledge (Ich kenne Susie = I know Susie) and wissen, which is used for factual knowledge (Ich weiss zwei und zwei macht vier = I know two and two makes four).  The difference here is that factual knowledge is just that:  memorized, never-changing and impersonal.  Social knowledge goes much deeper.  Of course, his point was that a lot of mathematical thinking is based on facts, but to succeed in advanced math, those facts must be applied at a deeper level.  Now, I'm no mathematician but I am grateful for that conversation because the underlying principal can be applied to almost any endeavor.  As a teacher, getting to know my students is one of the most important aspects of my job.  At first, I might know Susie's name but that's about it.  I don't know Susie in a way that will help me effectively teach her.  After a few months, I am not just remembering students' names, but getting to know them better.  I know that Roniyah will ask a lot of questions and needs redirection because of her ADHD, but loves to sing and actually is listening when it seems like she isn't.  I know that Christian and Cameron, brothers, are both taking music lessons and enjoy being challenged.  I know that Nakayla is a student leader and winning her over has helped my cause (e.g. If she likes it, other students in her class are likely to give it a try).

Getting to know my students is, obviously, something that will take more than a few months.  They have to get to know me and my style of teaching, too.  I, like possibly many others, have often sprung things on my students that I knew would be a big hit only to have them fail miserably.  And then sit there wondering why aren't they getting it!  Well, either they weren't ready for it or I didn't take the time to teach it in a way they understood.  This makes me remember another profound teaching moment from my Level II Orff training.  Any of us who have taken levels have to realize that we are living in an Orff dream world for two weeks.  Trained adult musicians will learn a lot faster than typical elementary school students and it is easy to forget that when we bring something back to students and wonder why they aren't getting it as quickly.  This point was brought home to me by master teacher Mary Shamrock as she wrote lyrics for one of the pieces my group was sharing at the end of our two weeks together.  We threw together our skit in just a couple of days, once again giving the false impression that students might be able to do so just as quickly.  But Ms. Shamrock, having wisely practiced Orff approach for many years, included in the closing lyric of our skit, the reminder that what we are doing will take "patience, work and time."  In other words, give your students the time it takes to know what they are learning.  It will make a big difference.  More on this topic soon!