The Dark Knight Teaches

This one is for the new  teachers or would-be teachers.  Some time ago I wrote a post where I discussed the fears of teaching using the DC character Green Lantern as an analogy.

....I'm proud of that one....

Today I would like to discuss one of GL's colleagues - a man known for, among other things, his spectacular brooding capabilities, his endless supply of man toys, and his undaunted conviction that black is always the "new black".  That's right, I'm talking about none other that the Dark Knight himself... the Batman.

When it comes to actual super powers, Batsy comes up a little short - like Marvel's Captain America, however, he is touted as possessing some of the most potent human qualities a 'hero' can have - a fact that earns respect and fear from friend and foe alike.  When counting his real "powers", people always bring up his physical training, his use of technology, his vast financial resources, and his extraordinary intelligence.  But there's another quality the Batman has that keeps him at the top of the Justice League A-List, and makes him a formidable foe for even cosmic-level bad guys:  He's always prepared.  Like a virus, he gets stronger with every obstacle he overcomes.  He approaches every new opponent with not only an arsenal of weapons, but experiences as well, making it that much harder to get the drop on him (having an arch-enemy like the Joker tends to keep you on your toes in that regards).

The hard thing about experience is that you can't get it by any other means than going through the gauntlet - and if you've read Frank Miller's "Batman: Year One,"  you know that even the caped crusader had to pay his dues.  (As my conducting mentor once noted: "Before you get good at anything, you have to suck first.")   Like a fledgling hero, the newbie teacher has to learn the basics before they can start making a difference:  You have to know your city inside and out.   You have to familiarize yourself with the tools available to you.  You have to be familiar with the population (the righteous, the wicked and everything in between.)

That part is a no-brainer - everyone knows that.  What you don't see is the challenges that your training didn't prepare you for.  Bruce Wayne trained himself to fight gangsters, murderers and crooks.  A few months into his job, and a new player shows up wearing clown make-up and sporting novelty items that explode and squirt acid... and the whole game changed.  He had to change with it.  Give him a couple of decades, and he's developed resources and contingency plans for just about anything he can think of... and he can think of a lot.  So if the Penguin puts out a hit on Commissioner Gordon, he's got it covered.  Riddler goes after the gold in the Gotham Reserve, he's got it covered.   Justin Bieber fans invade Gotham Central Park,  he's got it covered.  To show you how meticulous this man is, he's got a plan to deal with just about anyone in the DC universe... including the heroes (he carries a Kryptonite bullet with him... just in case).


Lastly, Bats had to learn to be his own hero.  He wasn't born with Kryptonian DNA, he didn't get super-charged in a chemical bath, nor was he selected to wield the most powerful weapon in the universe in the name of justice.  He was formed out of necessity, and tailored his methods to meet Gotham's needs.  As a new teacher, I was constantly looking to veteran teachers for... well, more than guidance, actually.  I thought there was some kind of secret formula out there that would make me a good teacher.  When I didn't find one, I felt kind of bitter... as if there was some secret that everyone was hiding from me.  Some of them even laughed when I prodded them for advice... and to be honest, I still think they were kind of being asshats... but in the end I can see why they didn't give me very much.  It was because what worked for them wouldn't necessarily work for me

Right now, I have a student teacher clinging to my cape, and I can see the same fear in her eyes that I once had.  I want to be able to to give her my mojo... but I can't.  When I didn't get the answers I wanted from other people, I dug into my own experiences.  I relied on stuff I did as a camp counselor.  I developed public speaking methods that heavily relied on humor - which pulled from the years growing up listening to (and imitating) comedy stand up routines.  My conducting style is an amalgamation of the great conductors I've worked with.

...My teaching style is my life....

She's going to have a different path.  I can help her develop that (hopefully)... but she's going to have to find her own way.  And if you're a new teacher reading this... so will you.

Good luck.  Keep the city safe.

Why Band Kids are Special

This was a draft that never made it to post back in May when I wrote it - I think it's worth a read.

Pt. I - Hell Freezes Over

So... I'm teaching my band to march.  Yeah, really.  After years of resisting the pressure from pushy athletic parents and a particularly troublesome principal, I went there.  Willingly.  It's nothing big, just a little local parade that will last all of 15 minutes. Still, it's a pretty big step for me.  Actually, it isn't the first time - we did the parade two years ago, and it was pretty fun.  Part of that decision came from the realization that doing marching band doesn't necessarily mean getting caught up in the crazy world of competitive field shows.  A parade here, a pep rally there... We can probably make that work, have a little fun and not kill ourselves in the process. But that isn't really what I wanted to blog about.

Pt. II - Band Kids: The Late Bloomers

In the process of preparing for the parade, I asked a marching-proficient friend of mine (Bill) to come in and help us get a simple set of  marching commands down.  He said something to the group, in response to some mocking sounds we heard coming from behind a fence that separated our band from the PE class that was in session on one of the school's tennis courts... something that kind of got me thinking about the band nerd existence.

When we heard the PE kids start to tease the band, Bill stopped the band in place and gave a little speech about why band people are special:

"What you do is special.  Less than 10% of the people out there do what you do.  That makes it special.  The people who poke fun at you are jealous because they can't do what you do... remember that."

It's a tempting to believe the bit about jealousy, but I disagree.  When other kids make fun of band kids, it isn't because they are jealous- it's because they genuinely believe that a kid who voluntarily picks up a clarinet is as deserving of ridicule as a kid who looks or dresses differently.  By definition, they are an outcast - and no image-conscious kid would dare be associated with something that would jeopardize their social standing.  Telling the kids anything else is rationalizing, and the kids know it.

At the same time, band kids are special.  Maybe not the kind of 'special' that Ambercrombie and Fitch CEO Mike Jeffries has in mind... but being willing to forsake general popularity in favor of participating in something that you love makes you special.  It takes a certain amount of courage to do that.  True, some people might argue that nerds gravitate towards band because they have nowhere else to go, but let me tell you something about my nerdy band friends - none of them ever feigned affection, stabbed me in the back, stopped talking to me for petty reasons, or decided whether or not to invite me to the party based on  how my image was holding up that week.  That tends to happen in the popular circles.  (I could go on about how the value of having the ideal AF image is an invented one, but in the interest of shaving down the post to a reasonable read, I'll forgo that for now.)

But the thing that makes band kids *really* special is the fact that they tend to develop qualities that help make them awesome adults.  True, you don't have to be a band kid per-se, but the absence of an image-conscious social structure allows them to build a community of cooperation , trust and acceptance.  The other thing is that the very activity that draws them together is far more impressive if and when they carry it into their adult lives.  To be sure.... I am WAY more popular now than I was in high school... and for the right reasons.

It's hard to make that promise when you're working with teenagers, though - they can barely see their lives past graduation.   Still, I must be doing something right to keep as many kids going in the program as I do.  And frankly, I don;t have to wait until they are older to see the payoff - I think they are awesome now.

First Battle - Aftermath

So, continuing the saga from my last post...

Willy the flute player ended up dropping out of my band, so that he could proceed with his membership in the youth orchestra.  The only problem is, said youth orchestra has a policy that all enrolled members must also participate in their school programs.

This is pretty standard - all the independent youth groups I know of have a similar policy, because they rely on the school programs to provide players.  It's usually in everyone's best interest if we support each other.  The director of  Willy's orchestra takes his commitment to the school programs pretty seriously.  He also happens to be a friend of mine.

Unbeknownst to Willy and his family, I called the director to see if we could cut a deal.  It turns out, there was no deal needed - the director insisted that Willy honor his commitment to me before that of the youth group.  I informed the director that it could mean that Willy could end up missing as many as nine rehearsals in the next three months.  "We'll manage" he said.

So... umm.... problem solved, right?

Only problem is, Willy never came back to band class - his name registered a drop notice on the roll sheet.  I mulled over what to do about it - it was my right (and some would probably say my duty) to inform the orchestra director that Willy was no longer eligible for his group.  At the same time, I didn't see the benefit of entering into a struggle with this family.  It was pretty clear that they didn't value my program very much.  Even if he came back, I imagine that we would come to a similar conflict in the future.

I called my friend and left a voice mail.  I told him what happened and left it up to him as to whether he wanted to continue letting this kid play for him... but  I figured that he should at least know how that went down.  The next day he called me back and told me that he wouldn't let Willy continue in his group.  To be honest, I'm feeling kind of embarrassed that my friend immediately jumped in with bigger cajones than I did.  But then again, he doesn't have to walk across his campus and bump into Willy, nor cross paths with his parents at school events.

In any case, I am deeply appreciative of my friend, the youth orchestra director, and at the same time  I'm saddened that my relationship with Willy ended thus.  He was actually a nice kid and a decent player.  Alas.

First Battle of 2013 / 2014

Incoming e-mail from a returning student's parent.  She wants me to know that her son was accepted in an independent youth group, whose rehearsals will conflict with all of our Friday events.  She wants assurance that we will work around his schedule and give him opportunities to make up the performance points...  for every single Friday event....  of which there may be nine in the first semester alone.

*sigh*

I understand this - the mom wants her kid to be a player in a classical group, not a football pep band.  To be honest... so do I......  But in lieu of a real marching band, I have accepted my fate as having a role in the school culture, one that involves at least providing a pep group to produce in-stand entertainment. That keeps our relations with everyone else on campus amicable. 

But that's not her problem, it's mine.  All she knows is that the NRHS band program is railroading her son into an activity that they are not really interested in, and preventing him from being a part of a group that is much more up his alley.

I'll let you know how this plays out.

2013-2014..... I am ready.....

.... or at least, as ready as I'm going to be in the next few days.

This is going to be an interesting year.  New principal (again), new people in my department, new student teacher...  I'd like to get a new chair for my office too, but that will have to wait.

The new boss is hitting the ground with guns blazing, giving the impression that she's not going to take any prisoners.   It smacks of Principal Palpatine from some years ago, except that Palpatine came in with smiles and handshakes... it took a while to see her hands slipping under your shirt to grab your throat from below.

This one... well, if she's a straight shooter, I'll be able to work with her, even if she brings up the whole marching band thing again.  I'm prepared this time.

A moment of silence for Principal Leto...  He left NRHS rather bruised and beaten, and I wish I could say that he didn't bring it on.  In hindsight, the best thing that I can say is that he was a buffer between two aggressive principals - I'm not sure we could have gone straight from Palpatine to.... whatever I'm going to call this one.  I'm tempted to call her Captain Janeway, but I have to see more of her leadership.