* Last night's football grudge-match with Cross-Town Rival School - We lost, but I found a $100 bill on the ground. That's way cooler.
* Autistic Billy is back in choir. He had a meltdown this morning. The aide shuffled him out of the room quickly. We could still hear him screaming in the courtyard.
* A different kid in choir was tearing up the sheet music into tiny bits and eating it. Yeah.
* I've been asked to be the adviser for the newly formed "Super Hero Appreciation Club" Gee, I wonder why they asked me.
* I broke down and bought a couple 30 gallon trash cans for my classrooms. I used to just steal some from the courtyard, but the maintenance guys were getting stinky about it - "Those are the outdoor bins!" Okay, whatever. So I bought my own and marked them "NRHS MUSIC." The guy who cleans my room saw them and immediately became my best friend on campus.
* Air conditioning report - for the first time ever, both rooms work perfectly. (I shouldn't have said anything, I probably just jinxed it.) Apparently, my units are of high interest to the district AC repair guy (with whom I am on a first-name basis.) Watching him try to isolate the problem(s) is like watching an episode of House.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Go Big Blue!
First home football game is in the can. Everything went well. In fact, it was the best season start in recent memory. We had about double the amount of band kids than I had last year. So many, that I decided to order a bus. (Usually I just have the kids meet us there.)
There's a curious thing that happens at least once a year: At some point some football parent comes up to me and says "Wow, it's so wonderful to finally have the band at the games."
Ummm...
Okay folks, I've been at New Republic High School for eleven years now... there's never been a year where I didn't take the band to at least four home games. In fact, the only home games that I've missed in recent times were due to the fact that Former Principal Palpatine crippled me at the beginning of the year by enrolling totally inexperienced kids in my intermediate/advanced band class and expected me to have them ready to perform in less than a week.
So, is it selective memory? Alzheimer's? Seriously... I mean I know I'm famous for loathing marching band, but is there some stigma that resets people's grey matter ala Total Recall to the point where they don't ever remember hearing the band at the games before?
Good thing I'm a patient man. I know how to smile and nod.
There's a curious thing that happens at least once a year: At some point some football parent comes up to me and says "Wow, it's so wonderful to finally have the band at the games."
Ummm...
Okay folks, I've been at New Republic High School for eleven years now... there's never been a year where I didn't take the band to at least four home games. In fact, the only home games that I've missed in recent times were due to the fact that Former Principal Palpatine crippled me at the beginning of the year by enrolling totally inexperienced kids in my intermediate/advanced band class and expected me to have them ready to perform in less than a week.
So, is it selective memory? Alzheimer's? Seriously... I mean I know I'm famous for loathing marching band, but is there some stigma that resets people's grey matter ala Total Recall to the point where they don't ever remember hearing the band at the games before?
Good thing I'm a patient man. I know how to smile and nod.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Problem of Attracting (And Keeping) Talent
I may have commented on this before: I always cringe a little bit when I get an older transfer student - especially an instrumentalist who came from a big school program. I say this because when they walk int he door of my classroom for the first time, they see a remedial group mixed with middle school kids, and I'm always afraid that they are going to go scrambling to their counselor to move them out of band/orchestra as quickly as possible. Sometimes they do.
Now, my problem is obvious... when my better players jump ship, it makes it much harder to recruit other talented students. I mean, I understand that it must be frustrating for a kid to sit in a class where almost everyone is younger and less capable a musician. Heck, I don't know if I'd want to tolerate that myself. At the same time, I can't help but feel abandoned.
I usually don't fault the kids for leaving if they do... I let it be their choice. Once in a while, one of them shows up in my office asking me to sign their paperwork for the state honor groups. The problem is - in order to audition for the state honor groups, they have to be enrolled in their school programs. (That's how the honor groups support the schools, who in turn send their best players.) I've had a couple of people get upset that I wouldn't just sign the paper... but them's breaks.
Now where the transfers are concerned... I have to remind myself that I can not expect loyalty out of a kid I just met. Every once in a while I get it, but I can't expect it. I do much better to focus on the kids that I recruited young - build them up, hope they get caught up in the passion to play well, and turn themselves into good players. Those are the ones that are far more likely to selflessly give back to the program. I've had a fair share of those.
I still have the problem that my better players tend to drop out of my band and orchestra altogether (usually before their junior year). Some of them try to get into my jazz class, which is a 0 period. That allows them to stay in music, but frees up a period for other classes. I also get the occasional senior who admits that the only reason they didn't want to be in the class was that they wanted to work out a schedule that let them go home at lunch.
That's the one that hurts... I mean, I like to think that despite the fact that my groups aren't the most advanced you'll find, I do manage to give them a meaningful experience. Apparently, not so meaningful that it doesn't hold a candle to being able to go hit the mall at 1 p.m. on a weekday - or be asleep in front of the TV by the time everyone else here's the last bell ring.
Whatever.
I happen to know that right now, there are at least ten capable string players walking around New Republic High School that aren't in orchestra. Some of them are caught up in the craze of building the "perfect college resume." One of them decided to switch to visual arts because that's what she wants to do for a career (can't fault her there.) A few are rumored to be avoiding me because they think themselves above the school program.
Whatever.
You know what the funny thing is... not so long ago, everyone was afraid that I wouldn't stay at NRHS. One year, one of the 7th graders looked at me and said "Mr. Maestro, promise me you won't leave until I graduate." I shrugged. Turns out that kid transferred to one of the other schools in the district before he was out of high school - someplace that was less academically competitive, where he could rank higher in his graduating class.
I know, I know... we're here for the kids, not the other way around. It just sucks, that's all... especially when there are schools within a 15 minute drive that have flourishing band and orchestra programs.
Now, my problem is obvious... when my better players jump ship, it makes it much harder to recruit other talented students. I mean, I understand that it must be frustrating for a kid to sit in a class where almost everyone is younger and less capable a musician. Heck, I don't know if I'd want to tolerate that myself. At the same time, I can't help but feel abandoned.
I usually don't fault the kids for leaving if they do... I let it be their choice. Once in a while, one of them shows up in my office asking me to sign their paperwork for the state honor groups. The problem is - in order to audition for the state honor groups, they have to be enrolled in their school programs. (That's how the honor groups support the schools, who in turn send their best players.) I've had a couple of people get upset that I wouldn't just sign the paper... but them's breaks.
Now where the transfers are concerned... I have to remind myself that I can not expect loyalty out of a kid I just met. Every once in a while I get it, but I can't expect it. I do much better to focus on the kids that I recruited young - build them up, hope they get caught up in the passion to play well, and turn themselves into good players. Those are the ones that are far more likely to selflessly give back to the program. I've had a fair share of those.
I still have the problem that my better players tend to drop out of my band and orchestra altogether (usually before their junior year). Some of them try to get into my jazz class, which is a 0 period. That allows them to stay in music, but frees up a period for other classes. I also get the occasional senior who admits that the only reason they didn't want to be in the class was that they wanted to work out a schedule that let them go home at lunch.
That's the one that hurts... I mean, I like to think that despite the fact that my groups aren't the most advanced you'll find, I do manage to give them a meaningful experience. Apparently, not so meaningful that it doesn't hold a candle to being able to go hit the mall at 1 p.m. on a weekday - or be asleep in front of the TV by the time everyone else here's the last bell ring.
Whatever.
I happen to know that right now, there are at least ten capable string players walking around New Republic High School that aren't in orchestra. Some of them are caught up in the craze of building the "perfect college resume." One of them decided to switch to visual arts because that's what she wants to do for a career (can't fault her there.) A few are rumored to be avoiding me because they think themselves above the school program.
Whatever.
You know what the funny thing is... not so long ago, everyone was afraid that I wouldn't stay at NRHS. One year, one of the 7th graders looked at me and said "Mr. Maestro, promise me you won't leave until I graduate." I shrugged. Turns out that kid transferred to one of the other schools in the district before he was out of high school - someplace that was less academically competitive, where he could rank higher in his graduating class.
I know, I know... we're here for the kids, not the other way around. It just sucks, that's all... especially when there are schools within a 15 minute drive that have flourishing band and orchestra programs.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
First Day
So... last night my wife looks at me and says:
Did I mention how much I love my wife?
Anyway, the first day went well. The usual crises kicked in. Kids crying over their schedules, begging to go see their counselors. Me crying over kids on my roster and begging them to go see their counselors (well... I was on the inside.) It didn't matter though... it was a brand new day, and I was whistling on my way down the hall. I went up to the admin office three times. Three times! The last two were just to see if it felt as good as the first time.
Only one thing made me a little sad: A few pumpkins decided to bail out of my advanced choir. Scheduling conflicts. The mother of one sent me an e-mail just this afternoon:
Hmmm... well, what I understand is that Karen has been trying to get into Chamber Singers since her 9th grade year. Two years ago she made it, but circumstances wouldn't permit her to join. Well, she kind of made it. Her audition was marginal, but I decided that she was so determined, I wanted to see how hard she'd work if she made it in.
It looks like I'll never know. Karen graduates this year. I hope she gets a chance to shine someday. If it ever fits into her family's schedule, that is.
"Ummmmm... you're working tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah"
"First day with kids?"
"Uh huh."
"......" (odd look)
"What?"
"You're usually a ball of nerves... why are you so relaxed?"
"Because I'm not worried about who's looking over my shoulder."
"It makes that much of a difference?"
"What do you think?"
"I think that had I known it would have calmed you down this much, I would have gone down there with a stick and beaten Principal Palpatine out of her office myself years ago."
"Calm down dear... you're pregnant."
".... yeah? well, get him a little stick. He can help me."
"Too late she's gone"
"Doesn't matter"
Did I mention how much I love my wife?
Anyway, the first day went well. The usual crises kicked in. Kids crying over their schedules, begging to go see their counselors. Me crying over kids on my roster and begging them to go see their counselors (well... I was on the inside.) It didn't matter though... it was a brand new day, and I was whistling on my way down the hall. I went up to the admin office three times. Three times! The last two were just to see if it felt as good as the first time.
Only one thing made me a little sad: A few pumpkins decided to bail out of my advanced choir. Scheduling conflicts. The mother of one sent me an e-mail just this afternoon:
Mr Maestro,
We're sorry to tell you that Karen will not be able to be in Chamber Singers this year. There is a scheduling conflict with her sibling, and we can't get her there for the 0 period rehearsal. We hope you understand.
Hmmm... well, what I understand is that Karen has been trying to get into Chamber Singers since her 9th grade year. Two years ago she made it, but circumstances wouldn't permit her to join. Well, she kind of made it. Her audition was marginal, but I decided that she was so determined, I wanted to see how hard she'd work if she made it in.
It looks like I'll never know. Karen graduates this year. I hope she gets a chance to shine someday. If it ever fits into her family's schedule, that is.
Monday, September 7, 2009
New (School) Year's Resolution
S0 on the eve of the 2009-2010 school year (for which I have generated much enthusiasm), I make this promise to myself, my students, their families and my colleagues:
1) Be a better music teacher - Get back to basics. Focus on skills, not just preparing for the next concert. Include regular playing /singing tests. Get on top of attendance.
2) Be a better conductor - perform regular self-evaluations through video-captured rehearsals. More score study. Fix time problems. Fix posture and movement problems. Get my goddam head out of the goddam score!
3) Be a better planner / communicator. Call club meetings on a regular basis. Return phone calls. Return e-mails. Start pre-event tasks at least 2 weeks prior to the date.
I know that it's all well and good to make promises, especially the year in which my first child is due to arrive. I remember when I was doing my Masters: I was so busy I was forced to organize my life that much more. I was a better teacher then. I'm hoping that the little one will produce the same side-effect.
1) Be a better music teacher - Get back to basics. Focus on skills, not just preparing for the next concert. Include regular playing /singing tests. Get on top of attendance.
2) Be a better conductor - perform regular self-evaluations through video-captured rehearsals. More score study. Fix time problems. Fix posture and movement problems. Get my goddam head out of the goddam score!
3) Be a better planner / communicator. Call club meetings on a regular basis. Return phone calls. Return e-mails. Start pre-event tasks at least 2 weeks prior to the date.
I know that it's all well and good to make promises, especially the year in which my first child is due to arrive. I remember when I was doing my Masters: I was so busy I was forced to organize my life that much more. I was a better teacher then. I'm hoping that the little one will produce the same side-effect.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Growing Pains
So, here's what I've figured out about Principal Leto: Not only was he a band teacher - he was a good one. It wasn't the way he announced in front of the faculty that he once had a nationally competing band and orchestra program (not meant to intimidate me, I'm sure... he was drawing an analogy of the panic that sets in after realizing that you've succeeded in reaching a goal and becoming burdened with the task of improving on it.) It was the side conversations where we briefly got into the thick of band-speak: repertoire, instruments... all that good stuff. And let me tell you - any man who's lead a high school band through Lincolnshire Posy deserves a good deal of respect.
What does it mean for me? It means I'm going to be working my ass off. For ten years I've worked under people who didn't know my discipline - that allowed me be lazy about a lot of things. Now, with Leto at the reigns, I'm feeling pressure to clean up my act a little bit. Or a lot. Not to say that I've been completely slacking for ten years, oh no... I've done lots and lots of stuff that I'm proud of. But there are things that I've always let slide a little (or a lot) that I'm sure another music teacher would pick up on.
Now folks, here's the important thing to keep in mind - Leto hasn't even so much as step foot in my classroom yet. He hasn't asked me for a syllabus, he doesn't know a thing about my daily M.O. In fact I fully expect him to be totally hands-off. He probably wouldn't suggest changes unless something blatantly called for it - like an abundance of student/parent complaints. (Which I do not generate.) No... he hasn't even seen my program yet, but the fact that he is (or was) a music teacher worthy of respect makes me want to earn his respect through a well-run program.
That means I'm going to work harder as a teacher... way harder than anything I would have done for Palpatine. And he didn't even have to ask for it.
What does it mean for me? It means I'm going to be working my ass off. For ten years I've worked under people who didn't know my discipline - that allowed me be lazy about a lot of things. Now, with Leto at the reigns, I'm feeling pressure to clean up my act a little bit. Or a lot. Not to say that I've been completely slacking for ten years, oh no... I've done lots and lots of stuff that I'm proud of. But there are things that I've always let slide a little (or a lot) that I'm sure another music teacher would pick up on.
Now folks, here's the important thing to keep in mind - Leto hasn't even so much as step foot in my classroom yet. He hasn't asked me for a syllabus, he doesn't know a thing about my daily M.O. In fact I fully expect him to be totally hands-off. He probably wouldn't suggest changes unless something blatantly called for it - like an abundance of student/parent complaints. (Which I do not generate.) No... he hasn't even seen my program yet, but the fact that he is (or was) a music teacher worthy of respect makes me want to earn his respect through a well-run program.
That means I'm going to work harder as a teacher... way harder than anything I would have done for Palpatine. And he didn't even have to ask for it.
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