Llama of the Week

Late May Pot-Pourri Pt. II

* There's a kid in band who plays clarinet. Kind of. He knows how to hold it. Kind of. I wrote him off as lazy months ago. Yesterday, I got a big envelope with a certificate in it: "In Recognition Of Outstanding Service To The Special Education Community" Also in the envelope was a nomination form filled out by Clarinet Kid: "I like Mr. Maestro. He's nice and really helpful." Boy do I feel like shit.

* I'm pretty sure I have a family of mice nesting in one of the practice rooms. Somewhere in the pile of old clothes that's been there for months. I'm going to have to clear that out real soon.

* Today my mostly-middle-school band played the school's last pep rally. They did okay, although they couldn't really compete with the drum line, nor the schools high profile dance team. Here's the victory that no one saw, though. At the beginning of the week when I said "Hey, we're playing the rally... I think we should play that arrangement of "Any Way You Want It." Immediately the kids started grumbling. I asked "What's wrong... I thought you guys liked that one?" Flute Girl raised her hand - "Umm... it's kind of cheesy, and we sound better at Charterpoint Overture." A bunch of people in the room chimed in with "Yeah". I gave them a funny look. "Guys, Charterpoint is a concert band piece. Don't you think the crowd will like AWYWI better? Flute girl stood her ground - "We sound better on Charterpoint." So today we played Charterpoint Overture. They rock.

* Drama Teacher told me today that the counselors did NOT offer drama classes to the 8th graders for next year. It's likely retaliation for the very public war he raged with Principal Palpatine, in which he gained the temporary upper-hand. I figured that if she was going to retaliate, that this would be how she did it.

* Today I got an award that I think was selected by a combination of students and faculty: Most Inspirational 'Staffulty'... A few are picked every month or so. We get a T-shirt. It was nice.

Late May Pot-Pourri

* Despite how crazy things are at school, I think I'm slowly regaining my work-zen-happy energy. This morning I realized that when I woke up, I didn't think about how it doesn't seem like 24hrs. since the last time my alarm went off.

* Another sign that I'm happy: I dread, rather than long for, the last day of school. This has less to do with the fact that I'm a potential workaholic at times, and more to do with the fact that every year I say goodbye to students that I've known for (sometimes) six years.

* Choir Mom is close to a break-down: Son has been relocated to another school because of a drug bust (He'll be able to return next year), and it sounds like the marriage is inching closer and closer to the abyss. The only good news is that she's kind of backed off since the announcement that my wife is expecting. I'm more worried about the family.

* Yesterday, Empire High School hosted it's annual "Outstanding Kid" Award Luncheon. Each teacher picks a kids who, while maybe not being the top-shelf academically, has shown exemplary quality through other admirable traits. I took Miss Katie from choir. She's a senior. Never my best singer, not even close. But she's been in choir every year since the 7th grade. She volunteers to help out at every concert. She always knows when something is bothering me, and she asks what she can do to make it better. At the luncheon, I noticed that her mother wasn't there (most other kids invited their parents). I asked "Where's your mom?" She said "She doesn't really show up to my stuff anymore. We haven't been getting along."

* Took kids to perform off-campus today for a big crowded room. They did well. We brought them back to school and ordered pizza for them. When they finally left, most of them said "Thanks Mr. M!" on their way out... and suddenly my mind flashed on what it will be like when my kid says "Thanks Daddy!" At least... I hope I get to hear that.... from time to time.

Victories and Tragedies, Great and Small

So yesterday we had our big classical concert. In light of the giant drama and dance productions that Empire High School put on this year, I felt a little pressure to produce something that wasn't a 2 hr recital of watered-down school arrangements. To that end we pulled out the choral and orchestral parts for the Gloria in D by Vivaldi and prepared the whole flippin thing, soloists and all.

I pushed the concert like I pushed no other... fliers, posters, e-mail announcements up the wazoo. When all was said and done, we had a program filled with, not only the Gloria, but several solo performances (Chopin, Pergolesi, etc) It was meant to represent everything that I stand for. I built it up as such.

Well the concert didn't end up being the perfect performance that I dreamed of... it didn't even end up being the near-perfect performance that I had hoped for. Not to say that I was particularly disappointed in it. It had a lot of moments that were good... some that were great. There was one moment after the 5th movement that the orchestra and chorus were holding a big ff fermata going into an epic release that one of the audience members whispered "wow." Nobody heard it except people in the front row... and of course the orchestra. That was awesome.

But it 's those few little glitches that maybe wouldn't have happened had we (I) been a little more careful. You musicians know what I'm talking about. We're really good at self-deprecation (and if you're a loyal reader, you know that I am particularly good at it.) In the end we got a standing ovation, and I'm not going to say that it wasn't deserved... My kids deserve a standing ovation every day, if you ask me. But as always, I walked away with every little mistake ringing in my head, along with the visualization of what it should have sounded like. And to be sure, I took the responsibility for every moment.

Today, the kids kept asking me if I was happy with the concert. They're concerned that they performed well enough for me. (Here I am fretting over how much I prepared them) But the real heartbreaker about today was when I heard through another student that Jing, one of our cellists, was upset and crying after the concert. (I didn't catch that at the time... apparently she his backstage for a while, then booked out of the concert hall). Informer Student led me to believe (intentionally or unintentionally) that Jing was upset because I didn't acknowledge her as a soloist after the whole thing was over.

I was a little taken aback - Jing indeed played several solos parts, but they were kind of accompanimental to a vocalist... which is why I didn't really acknowledge them. I immediately felt bad for her; after all she did put some considerable work into them. I made it a point to find her during her 5th period art class and apologize to her

(Oh a little background about Jing, she used to be enrolled in the orchestra class, but at the semester she chose to switch to art, being that she has plans to major in arts later on. Still, she was easily our best cellist, and we recruited her to come in as a ringer to play our concerts nonetheless. I even continued to list her as "principal cello" in the program. The other thing you need to know about Jing is that she's Korean and has some difficulty communicating in English.)

Just after the bell ended lunch, I made a bee-line for Jing's class. (Orchestra was starting. I had left the room open so the kids could get in. I knew they wouldn't get into trouble... they're a mellow class, plus the string coach was there.)

Jing's art class was one of those mostly-juniors-and-seniors independent work kind of set-ups. I found her in a corner and asked if I could talk to her. She seemed really unwilling to get out of her chair, and she refused to make eye contact. Finally I got her outside and started talking.

I went going on and on about how sorry I was for not giving her credit for the solo parts, and telling her several times that I hope she continues to play with us. Five minutes later I finally let her say something. That's when everything changed. Jing started crying and said (as best she could) that she felt bad because she got lost during the 6th movement of the Vivaldi (during one of her big solos.)

So here's the funny part.... Yeah she did get lost, and yeah it took a little work to get us back on track. But the harpsichord player carried us through, and the singer nailed her solo... so in the end it wasn't all that bad. I didn't even think twice about it... in fact, until she brought it up, I had completely forgotten about it.

So here I am thinking that she was hurt and angry for being neglected, when really it was just another example of how musicians over-burden themselves with their mistakes. When I realized what was really going on, I spent the next five minutes trying to tell her how wonderful she did despite the mistake. I couldn't completely make her feel better... that's just how it is with us music folk (While in college, I made a huge mistake on my senior recital that kept me from listening to the recording for at least six months.) But I gave her a hug and told her that it was okay. I wasn't angry with her, in fact I feel lucky that she still plays with us, despite not being in the class.

Eventually, I let her go back to class, and I returned to my orchestra (now 15 minutes into the period.) I thought I would find them sitting, wondering where I was... it turns out that two of the orchestra girls had brought in cookies, ice cream and soda for the class, in celebration of the concert. They were all standing around having a grand old time.

We decided that Jing needed to have some goodies as well, so we bundled up a little plate and went to find her (the whole class). By that time, the art teacher had sent his students out into the quad to find a shady spot to work on their projects. We found Jing under a tree right outside the music room. We gave her the goodies, and the 7th grade cello girls gave her a hug and told her they were so glad that she came to play with us again. She was crying.

Finally I decided that we had embarassed her enough and dragged the class back to the room. On my way back I realized that if I was going to so easily overlook my students mistakes and celebrate their victories, that I should do the same for myself... including the time-phasing on the first two movements, and the mis-conducted start of the 8th movement that confused the hell out of my accompanist... all noticable blunders.

But damn it was good, nonetheless.

We rock.

Not surprised, sadly....

If you're like me, you sometimes google people out of boredom. Today I googled a flag instructor I worked with a long time ago. I hired him back in 1996 or so... when I was at my last school. He was a talented guy, but he turned out to be a drug addict and a pathological liar. He was always trying to borrow money, and he tried to squeeze more pay out of me than we had agreed upon. Our working relationship ended badly, to say the least. Two years after I threw him out of my office, he was still using me as a reference. He even put me down as an "current employer" on a couple of applications. My last contact with him was an angry phone message where he threatened to sue me for slander.(1) I didn't worry about it. I knew that whatever money he managed to scrape up usually went up his nose, so the chances of him actually hiring a lawyer were slim (not that he had a case.)

I last heard news of him from a mutual friend, just before I moved and got married. It sounded as if he had been getting worse... and I remember thinking that it wouldn't be long before he wound up dead or in jail.

Well, today I found an obituary for him. He died back in 2005... "after a long illness." 28 years old. He lived for less than a decade after I saw him last. Wow... I wasn't even married yet at 28. (2) So I scrape up what ever I can find in the bottom of my psyche that resmbles "pity" or "sympathy" and offer it up silently. There's not much, but it's there.


1) I told a car dealership that he had not been working for me for three years, as he had claimed. They had trouble finding me. He had put down the right name, but a fake phone number.

2) I also wasn't a coke addict on the run from a horde of debt collectors.

The Joys of Standardized Testing

I used to hate proctoring the state tests... hate it with a passion. These days I have been finding little blessings in them:

* While I inevitably get stuck with a classroom full of kids I don't know (mostly) I am at least fortunate enough to have been assigned to 7th graders, who are usually far more cooperative and obedient than your average surly sophomore. This year's class is pretty mellow.

* I used to cherish "assistant" duty, which was basically sitting in the testing center working on your own stuff unless they need you to go run an errand. Turns out that means giving a bathroom break to one of the proctors every... oh fifteen minutes or so.... or running extra pencils to classrooms, which happens a lot in the first day of testing. I think proctoring the test is less work.

* Once you get the test started, you can pretty much do whatever you want as long as it's quiet.

* Call me silly, I love reading the test instructions with my best "Game Show MC" voice. It cracks the kids up and they actually follow along better.

* I get to draw llama cartoons on the board for kids who don't ordinarily get to see them.

-UPDATE-

1:20 p.m. Just a little over an hour-and-a-half left for today's tests. Tomorrow the 7th graders only test until 10:30 a.m. - then they go home! All other grades test up until 3 p.m.

Nya nya nya nya

-UPDATE-

2:50 p.m. Not exactly the longest ten minuets of my life, but getting there. They've all been done for over an hour. The girl are okay... a little giggly. The boys are all trying to grab each other.

Oops - I was going to let them get a little comfy and mill around the room quietly - until someone threw a pencil. Now they're back in their seats and totally quiet. [insert evil laugh]

Llama of the Week

Help From Above

So, our district contacts with the local professional symphony orchestra arranged for some their players to come help with our big Baroque concert coming up. The players get paid through the orchestra's outreach/educational program, so it isn't costing us a dime. Today they sent a gaggle of string players to my orchestra class to work with the kids. I can't tell you how awesome it was. Well... actually I can... IT WAS FRIGGIN AWESOME!

At the beginning of the class, I did a little bit of a run through of one of the concert pieces, then I let the pro players take over. They broke the kids up into sectional groups by instrument. The beautiful part about it is that they all had a lot of experience working with kids already; one had even been a school orchestra director for 15 years. For the rest of the hour, I just walked around and took pictures of our kids getting coaching from professional orchestral musicians.

This felt like one of the best one of the best things I've ever done... reaching out to the music community....to people living at the other end of the music education process, and making a contact that seemed to validate everything I've been trying to do.

I need to do stuff like this more often.

The Sun Sets On EHS Cheer

That's right, ladies and gentlemen... Empire High School has officially lost it's cheer squad. No joke. We're now a high school without cheerleaders. We saw the early warnings of trouble last year, when the former cheer advisor (a walk-on coach) was investigated for suspicious bookkeeping. We started this year with a new advisor (one of our faculty) but the girls didn't take to it, and soon the program was a sinking ship.

.... Ok, well, we're not entirely without cheerleaders: We do have a middle school cheer program which may eventually rebuild the high school squad. However, for the time being... we have no Varsity or JV cheer.

I find this situation very intriguing... the way the school reacts to this may give me an opportunity to communicate some of my frustrations with the way our music department has been treated as of late. After all, as unusual as it is to be a high school without a marching band, it's unthinkable to be a high school without a cheer squad. Why, the whole athletics department might just collapse into anarchy. So lets see what the athletics community (many of whom are accustomed to ordering programs like band and cheer around) will do to fill the void. The obvious solutions are:

A) Have the middle school cheer girls take over the varsity duty.

This is the most obvious, and most probable first line of defense.

Possible Outcomes: The middle school cheer girls may be thrilled to get sudden attention/appreciation... much like the lowly understudy who gets the freak chance at fame and fortune when the star suffers an injury... but ultimately I think the varsity sport schedule will overwhelm the middle school girls (and their families). Many of the parents may get uncomfortable with the sudden demands on the time and energy of their not-yet-high-school children. Also, we'll be the laughing stock of CIF if we show up to games with cheerleaders on the.... short side.

How this relates to band: Expecting a middle school cheer squad to pull varsity duty is like expecting middle school band players to do high school band duty.... But that's what we've been doing for years! This year in particular has been hard with half of those kids being beginners. Inevitably we square off against older, bigger, more experienced bands and walk away feeling like crap. Yeah, that would make me want to keep showing up to the games...

B) Utilize the nearest substitute.... like the school's dance team, for example.

Oh, just you wait... this idea is probably already formulating in the minds of the same athletic parents who have been pushing for a marching band. We have a pretty good dance club on campus (which, by the way, attracts way more attention than cheer ever did) They put on some pretty professional shows that attract big audiences. But they have also been known to perform at the pep rallies and, occasionally, at the football halftimes... which is why I'd bet that they might be the topic of discussion at the next booster/administration meeting.

Probable Outcomes: The dance teacher (who is a close friend) will have a conniption if it comes to this. Like me, she hates the idea of her students being used. Like me she wants to maintain total autonomy over deciding when to perform for who. Not only will she rage against the machine, her students will as well. It won't go down... but I bet someone will suggest it.

How this relates to band: Like dance, I have a lot of talented musicians. But they're idea of performing doesn't involve being the bitch of the athletics department. They do what they do for their own reasons... and they don't mind showing up to a game now and then. But they don't want to be "on call". I can't imagine anyone would (besides... you know.... doctors and therapists and stuff.)

C) The secret draft

I really don't think this one will happen... but Principal Palpatine might try it if she's around next year. She's the only one slippery enough to try and pull it off. Here's how it works -
Set up a class... call it anything you want: drill team, pep squad, it doesn't matter. Get some poor unsuspecting faculty member to "teach" it. Promise them that it will be a low-key thing. Fill the class with kids who didn't indicate any elective on their class enrollment sheet. Once the kids are in there, turn up the heat on the teacher to create a real cheer squad. Deny any promises you made earlier that contradict your true intentions. Insist that this is not something that the administration wants.... everyone has been asking for it. Field any complaints from the enrolled students or parents to the teacher. Meanwhile, assure athletic parents that everything is being done to create a new cheer squad, and that everyone is on the same page. Smile. Shake Hands. Kiss babies.

This seems like a really flimsy, unscrupulous way of doing things... but you know what? If you know that you're not going to be staying at a school very long, and you think you can get away with it just long enough to win the immediate support of the athletic parents (who usually have the big deep pockets)... hell, why not? You won't be around long enough to watch the whole thing fall like a house of cards. Besides, you set the teacher up to take the fall, even if you are.

Probable outcomes: One frustrated, seriously pissed-off teacher. A bunch of kids (and families) who are bewildered as to how they all got roped into this in the first place. Eventual exposure of the true evil master-mind of the plot.

How this relates to band: Oh, if you've been reading my blog... you know how this relates to band. Especially my band.

Here's what is NOT likely to happen... sadly, it's what SHOULD happen:

D) Rebuild the program with the wants and needs of the cheerleaders in mind.

See, the biggest problem is that I think the admin will not approach this dilemma from the standpoint of "We have no program for girls to join"... they're more likely to think "There's no program to service the athletic teams"(1) If I were an administrator (Principal Maestro?.... Holy shit! How did THAT thought just pop in there?) I would call in the could-be-returning-but-aren't ex-cheerleaders and have a little pow-wow. Get feedback from them. What made them quit? What might make it worth it for them to come back?

Make every decision for the benefit of the cheer kid. Yes, it is understood that cheer is, by design, a support organization. But being that no one is required to participate, the program has to be designed to be appealing and meaningful for the participants. (2) Hire someone who works for the cheer kids... not for the athletics program. Make happy cheerleaders. Happy cheerleaders will want to perform... frequently. They'll ask for more opportunities to cheer.

That's how it works.

1) I know... that sounds reeeaaaalllly bad.

2) That means more than the occasional pat-on-the-back.

I have WHAT???

Shingles.

Yup.

Had what I thought was a scratch on my forehead that got infected. That's what the school nurse thought, too. Yesterday, she cleaned and dressed it. Today she thought it looked worse... so she sent me down to the walk-in clinic around the corner from the school. The doctor there took one look at it and said "Yup.... shingles." (1)

Couldn't have come at a worse time.... with a big concert around the corner and everything. Still, the overall situation could have been worse. From what I can gather, people don't take off work because of shingles, unless they find the pain unbearable. So far, my pain is not unbearable. In fact, I'm barely aware of any pain at all. The more I read up about this little gem, the more I think I'm getting off light. (2) I don't look that bad, and I can still function.

Okay, here's a little Shingles 101

For those of you not in the know, shingles is basically a reboot of the chicken pox virus that lays dormant in your body for decades, then pops up like an ex with an axe to grind. It actually hides out in the crevices of your nervous system until it's reactivated by something (usually a weakened immune system due to stress, disease or what not) Once reactivated, it travels back to the surface where it manifests in those blisters we all love. But the real fun in shingles is the way that it messes with the nerve clusters and sends false messages to the brain that get interpreted as pain. Searing, agonizing pain. There's no cure. If you've had chicken pox, you're a candidate for shingles. The good news is, like chicken pox, once you get it, the chances of a resurgence go way down. The other good news is that you aren't as much of an outcast from society with shingles as you are with chicken pox. Apparently I'm only kind-of contagious to people who a) haven't had chicken pox and b) have come into skin-on-skin contact with my open blisters (3)

Now, shingles is supposed to manifest on the torso. Mine settled in on my forehead, which sucks because anyone who looks at me immediately wonders what that scar-looking thing is. At the same time I'm very thankful that, unlike the poor folks I've seen pictures of on the web, I only have one crusted-over blister (that looks like someone hit me on the head with the edge of a clip board), one irritated red spot smack in the middle of my forehead (which may develop into another blister... I'm trying not to touch it) (4) and a few suspicious looking pimples.(5)

The only two major concerns: 1) Being on my head, there's a danger that it may spread into my eyes... which would be pretty nasty. 2) There's an obvious complication with my wife being pregnant.

The last part is particularly sticky. We called a bunch of different doctors (one of them being my Dad) and tried to get a bead on exactly how careful we have to be. I mean, "avoid contact" is kind of vague, and difficult in a one-bedroom apartment.

Anyway, other than being a little self-conscious as I walk across campus, I guess it isn't so bad. I don't feel sick, and other than a little itchiness, I'm getting by okay.


1) The doctor, who bears an unmistakable resemblance to Peter Brady and who radiates a charming mixture of aloof, condescending and mildly amused.

2) I should say "getting off light again." I once had a battle with cancer that turned out to be more of a disagreement.

3) Darn... usually I like to rub my open blisters up against people. No more of that, I suppose.

4) I'm thinking of promising the sacrifice of my first born child one of my seventh graders to whatever pagan gods in exchange for deliverance from this fate.

5) I'm sure you're all thrilled to hear descriptions of my epidermal blemishes in vivid detail.

Llama of the Week

Ask Not For Whom The Pink Slip Tolls....

No, it's not what you think. I'm not getting the axe. Yesterday, I had to give the axe. Two years ago I started up a drum line... partially to appease my nagging principal about starting a marching band... mostly because I have kids who wanted to do it.

Part of the problem getting one started was hiring the right coach. I always hated hiring coaches. Even after running extensive interviews, I never knew what I was getting. (1) I've had some luck with drum coaches. Not so much with marching techs and guard (back when I marched at my last school.)

The first guy I hired here at Empire High School, Flaky Jake, was a total wash-out. He worked at two other schools besides EHS, and he would skip out on us all the time if his favorite school needed extra rehearsals or was traveling to competition.

I got rid of him the fastest and easiest way I knew how: I told him that the funding we had for coaching was drying up thanks to Schwarzenegger's cuts to education. (2) Meanwhile I was accepting an offer from a guy I knew through a youth orchestra to move in and take over.

Norman NewGuy, however, turned out to be a bust as well. While he was a great concert percussionist, and far more professional in his attendance... he proved to be socially awkward and didn't know how to handle a group of 15-20 middle school/high school drummers. I was having discipline problems with kids who were normally pretty mellow. Also, Norm was more of a classical guy than a drum line instructor.

Meanwhile, Principal Palpatine was using heavy intimidation to get me to provide more entertainment for the athletic events. In my depseration to get her off my back. I reached out into the music community once more for help. This time we got Nick NewerGuy. The kids immediately took to Nick. He's younger, mellower... in tune with the drum line world, and able to get the kids organized and motivated.

I didn't get rid of Norm immediately. In fact, I've kept him on until the end of the year. He's been working with the regular concert band drummers with varying success. The problem is that it's not terribly cost effective to have him come back next year.

Yesterday I had to tell him that.

I figured that since he was pretty much an honest upstanding guy, Norm at least deserved to get the truth, rather than the big fat lie I told Jake. It didn't help all that much, though... He didn't take it very well. I think he's sensed that it was about to happen(3) and had been coming in extra to try and secure his job. It's no use though.. there's nothing really to be done. I mean, I could use him, but I don't need him... and he creeps the kids out.

I hate hate HATE this part of the job.


1) Apparently, this is also true for school administrators.

2) Okay... YOU come up with a better one.

3) Not that having a new drum instructor come around was any kind of a hint or anything.

Llama of the Week

A Great Start

So today I forgot my lunch. And the fun part is... I think I took it out of the fridge and put it on the counter... and then walked off. This happened about two minutes after my wife rolled over half asleep and said "Don't forget your lunch."

To round off the morning... I'm pretty sure that someone stole the Starbucks pastry that was sitting on my desk, waiting for 2nd period prep. Pretty sure. I just might have eaten it and then forgot... apparently I'm having that kind of morning. But then I would have thrown the bag in the trash... and there is no Starbucks bag in any of the trash cans in any of my rooms.

It must have happened while I was in 0 period jazz rehearsal. Kids sometimes come in and hang out in my office or in the choir room. I'd hate to think a music kid would do that kind of thing to me. But then, I've also been suspicious that people have been taking water bottles out of my refrigerator.

Time to lock the doors.

The Good, The Bad and the Ugly

GOOD

Today, I stayed after until 6 p.m. and got a ton of crap done. It felt good. I've been such a horrible procrastinator lately, and it was nice to go home with a significantly lightened load. This is the way I used to work.

BAD

There's no way I can get back to that... not permanently.... not with a kid on the way. Damn, how am I going to manage my life.

UGLY

Today I snapped at a kid for something I shouldn't have. He later sent me an e-mail that made my blood boil, saying that I was wrong to make the statement that he didn't "care about the class." The thing is, even though he didn't quite deserve to endure my wrath at that moment, he had a semester's worth of frustration on my part built up and ready to burst. And burst it did.
The thing that pissed me off was the fact that I had to apologize. He deserved everything that I said to him, but the timing was wrong.

I replied in an e-mail that was carefully re-written about seven times before I hit "send." I tried to balance the apology with careful but assertive statements about my own frustrations. I must have done a good job because the response that I received within the hour was.... non-hostile. I have no idea where we're going to go from here.

At least he's graduating.

On The Bright Side

I think it's time I give a little attention to the people who bring me joy on a regular basis, and who remind me that Empire High is, despite it's frustrations, a great place to work, and why I decided that this would be the school that I would retire from.

Mr. All-Talented-Accompanist: You are an amazing musician. The quality of our vocal program would be greatly diminished without your input. You are patient, you are flexible, you are willing to bend over backwards to help students. We don't always agree... but there's no way I could do this without you.

Ms. Bubbly 7th-Grader 1 & Ms. Bubbly 7th-Grader 2: No matter how bad a day I think I'm about to have, you two always manage to get a smile out of me during 1st period. That always makes it better. I would be very sad if you did not return to choir next year.

Ms. 2nd Period TA: Every day you ask what you can do for me. Most days I don't have anything. You ask anyway... and when I say "I can't think of anything" you at least try to tidy up a little. You rock.

Mr. Not-So-Beginner Horn Player: Somehow we managed to infect you with a genuine desire to play your instrument well. You are a very bright kid with a driving curiosity and a natural likeability that makes you a pleasure to teach. You are starting to show a lot of loyalty... I dearly hope that I will continue to reward and encourage it appropriately.

Ms. Sparkly Trombone Player: I wanted something that would encourage a sense of fun and community in 3rd period band. You came up with "Pie Day." It was silly, but it worked. That's the kind of energy you bring to the room. You're worried about being the only "experienced" trombone player next year. I'd be far more worried If I didn't have you around.

Mr. Heir-To-The-Throne Drummer: You had big shoes to fill when our former Jedi-Master graduated and left our jazz group with a slight feeling of uncertainty. well... you didn't fill his shoes.... you brought in your own pair. There was not a single day that I ever said "Wow, I wish old JM was still here" (Well, I mean I did.... but just because I missed him... but not because... oh you know what I mean.) Talented, intuitive, loyal, committed. I have one hell of a letter of reccomendation waiting for you.

Mr. Sleepy Bass: Here's what I love about you - you are the drama club president and the stage manager for most of the shows. You probably work twice as hard as anyone in the cast. And while you haven't always been awake, I think you've always made an attempt to be a part of the 0 period rehearsals. I wish more people would follow your example.

The Teacher's Lounge Lizards: I doubt I could find a group of people as fun to work with as you. It used to be that I couldn't be lured out of my room during lunchtime. These days I don't want to miss out on whatever mayhem you guys whip up in the 40 minutes that we have to talk to people older than 18.

The Knights of the Union: Because no teacher should feel like they have to go through it alone.

The Asian Soprano Sisters: Only two three things are certain in life... death, taxes, and the fact that the first people to show up to 0 period will be the two of you. It makes me smile to hear your surprisingly-cheery-for-6:30-a.m. voices float through the door as you approach from the darkened parking lot.

Assistant Principal Tom: I'm sorry I called you the "Step-Jeff" at the beginning of the year (Being that you replaced our dearly loved and missed AP from last year). You endeared yourself to me by continually standing up to Principal Palpatine. (Albeit never on my behalf. Still... it's nice to know that someone up in the front office has the cajones to do it.)

Mr. Kingpin Trombone: You are the last of a generation of great trombone players, and one of the few genuinely motivated and intuitive musicians I've had the pleasure to work with. You were one of those students whose ability greatly surpassed that of most of the people in the group you participated in... and yet you continued to contribute without complaint. Alas, I wish I would have relied more on your leadership this year... I have such a bad habit of failing to utilize my student leaders to their potential.

Ms. Prodigy Saxophonist: I should be paying you for the privelege of giving you lessons. Playing duets with you is more than satisfying... it's therapeutic.

Ms. Wholesome Soprano: Why... WHY didn't you join our advanced choir sooner? You have an infectious good attitude and a sense of dedication that endears you to me more than you know. I think you are going to play a much bigger role in the group next year.

Ms. Principal Second Violinist: Had I known how awesome a kid you are, I would have hunted you down in your 7th grade year and forced you to sign up for orchestra. I love having you in the class... even if you are an incurable gum-chewer.

Living in Drama's Shadow

Today, the Empire High School Drama Department finishes its run on its music theater production. I have a love/hate relationship with music theater. On one hand, I like being a part of the show. It's fun, and I get to work with kids that I don't ordinarily see. On the other hand, music theater tends to be a major distraction where the students are concerned. It's no secret that drama students suffer grade reductions across the board while the show is in full swing, and expecting them to fulfill any other commitment that they may have attached themselves to is nearly impossible. (1)

This year, I was not a part of the production. Usually the shows call for two people to handle the music: one to train the cast, one to prepare and conduct the orchestra pit. I'm usually the latter. As far as the staff hierarchy goes, I'm the lowest man on the totem pole. I don't have a problem with that... it's not my show. I'll even bow to the demands of the musical director, who is usually a walk-on that the drama teacher hired.(2) This time, however, the musical director wanted to conduct the pit himself from the keyboard. While I was disappointed at being excluded from the show altogether, I was also happy to get about 100+ hours of my life back.

This year the show generated far more publicity than it ever has, due to its controversial nature. That pretty much ensured that the seats would sell out for every single performance. It also inspired the cast to be particularly motivated towards putting together their product. When I say "motivated" I mean they made it the single most important priority in their life.

Now, understand that I have a symbiotic relationship with the drama teacher, given the number of students that we share. I use the term "symbiotic" with reservation, given that we don't stand on quite equal terms... when one of the programs has to make a sacrifice for the sake of the other, its usually the music department that takes the hit. I am also very clear where the loyalties of the shared students lie: A lot of them would drop a music concert for a drama rehearsal without a second thought.

Part of the problem is that our current drama teacher (who has been here about five years) is far more prolific than any teacher in the last two decades. Where there used to be two major plays a year with a smattering of smaller rep shows, we now have at least three plays a year as well as rep shows, improv teams and various student-run productions. Obviously, that's not a "problem" for the drama program. In fact he's doing what he should be doing... expanding the breadth and depth of the student experience. And to be sure, this year's show was probably the most professional production I've yet seen out of our theater.

But I'm starting to think that the days of kids being able to commit to both programs may be over. The attendance at my advanced choir rehearsals for the last few weeks has been dismal. Furthermore, once the show is done... those same students who were out due to "fatigue" may miss even more rehearsals as they use the 0 period time to make up test, quizzes and homework in other classes.

Now, one might ask why I don't just put my foot down and demand that students either adhere to their committment to the music program -or- gracefull bow out and focus their entire being on the drama productions. The situation is a little more complicated than that:

I. The heaviest talent usually comes from the drama kids. Although it is not always the case, most of my heavy singers in the last ten years have been drama kids. Forcing them to opt out would mean a drop in the quality of our product. Now, one thing I have to say is that Drama has more to offer the seriously talented student: There's the flash of costumes and lights, and the fact that drama productions are far more liekly to sell out than... say... a Vivaldi concert. Drama is fun and exciting. Choir is... well you get to sing... like classical music and stuff... which is cool... if you're into that sort of thing. It's hard to compete for the attention of teenagers with a comparison like that.

II. While I have no problem with my advanced choir dropping from 40 kids to 20 kids (or less), I understand that administrative types (especially with the budget crunch) are less likely to keep a class on the books if they see a dramatic drop in enrollment. One thing I'm constantly worried about is the possibility that they will condense my two choirs into one, effectively mixing the beginning, intermediate and advanced levels. (3) That's what they did to my cross-town rival/colleague. My current administration would do it without a second thought if it ever occured to them to do so. After all, one of my defenses against doing marching band has been the simple fact that there is no room for it in my schedule.

In general I have to admit that I've always been somewhat envious of the community enthusiasm for drama and dance shows that my music concerts have never gained. But then, my performing arts colleagues are far better showmen, and more meticulous perfectionists than I. They worry about every little detail, from lighting to the quality of paper that the programs are printed on. I focus in on the music and... well everything else is sort of insignificant. Sometimes I wonder if that sends the message that my overall product is insignificant by comparison. I've thought about trying to find ways of upping the excitement level in my program. The only problem is, I'd have to do it across the board for all classes, and for one guy who's already trying to manage an all-anclusive 7-12 vocal/instrumental program, that may be more than I can handle.(4)

Now, there are some other elements to this issue as well -

* It's not just the music program that the drama students have a tendency to flake on... it's everything else. Classes.... jobs... relationships. I was comforted a little by a conversation with a colleague who assured me that the drama pumpkins have been prone to missing her (AP English) class as well. At least I'm in good company.

* I Must... I MUST remember that while I'm presently focused on the kids who have forsaken me for drama, there are many who haven't. Aside from the kids who seem to be able to handle the drama/music combo, I have students who have dropped other activities to be more involved with music.



1) That's not really fair of me to say. I have students who do the shows and never miss a day of class. They're just getting fewer and fewer.

2) Our drama teacher goes through musical directors like Henry VIII went through wives. He always finds some reason not to work with them again.

3) Which is the fastest way to get the talented kids to quit the program altogether.

4) And folks lets also not forget about the other little project I have coming up next year.