Almost there....

I'm nearing the end of week one, with only one day left to go until a long and well-deserved weekend. That said, that one day promises to be a lengthy one. I still feel perfectly exposed, awkward, and fumbling during my team teaching. The annoying little voice in the back of my head frequently repeats the notion that my co-teacher is a better educator than I am. It's not debilitating or paralyzing, but it is a little nerve-wracking. I try to let it roll off of my back, though, chalking up my insecurities to beginning-of-the-year exhaustion and a fuzzy future. I want to fall back into a routine too quickly. I'm training myself to nap again, which is not an easy thing to do. I want to fix everything all at once.

Today was really interesting, though. While teaching the art portions of class, students were enthusiastic and quiet--for the most part. They were involved and engaged, and they had some lovely cooperative efforts. Halfway through our seventh grade classes, as we transitioned to music, I noticed a distinct shift in mood and tone. I had to smile, because the moment that we mentioned music, over half of the class immediately began moving, tapping feet and fingers and pencils. I had to rethink my expectations about noise and participation. The class got louder, individual personalities began to pop out as students strayed from directions and intended results, here and there.... It's difficult to avoid frustration, when students aren't used to cooperative performance, but perhaps that is simply a symptom of potential. I'll have to keep exploring interesting ways to foster individuality, while stressing cooperative learning and performance. I'll have to adapt some of my attention-getting techniques to reflect common rehearsal practices. I'm excited, because I have been ready for something to challenge my thinking and my methods for far too long. (I can't wait to start playing games and bringing the percussion instruments into the mix. They always help students to listen to one another.)

One of the seventh grade classes really had me on the edge of my seat, because they have been the first group to make real connections between art and music. (The arts-integrated curriculum is already taking shape, making a difference in the first week!) When asked the question, "What is art?" one student responded with, "the visual music of the world." From there, students started suggesting that dance, music, film, plays, etc. were all art, even when the original intention was to introduce and explore visual art, on its own. Thus far, all of the other classes have still been separating the two disciplines into distinctly different chunks. Tomorrow, the lines should blur even further, as we start to discuss parallels between the elements of art and music. We'll be exploring the idea of color and value through beat and rhythm. The comparisons aren't exact, so we'll have to play around a bit. For example, value is an easy one: how much color, versus how long a note lasts in time and space. Color is a bit trickier. In visual art, one can add white or black to change the value of the original color. In music, tone color/timbre refers to the individual sound of a voice or instrument, something that distinguishes that sound from another one. I am interested in looking at references to noise colors, because they borrow ideas from the optical spectrum and apply them to the frequency of sound waves. (Oh WikiPedia, how I love you! Let me count the ways! I was able to hunt down a handful of .ogg files on sound color, so you know I'm bringing those babies into the classroom, tomorrow.) On a side note, I suspect that much of my enthusiasm for this is also a deep and unfulfilled desire for academic research. This will be fun in the classroom, but my, how I want to dig myself a deep, deep hole in which to wallow in these ideas. This little taste is not nearly enough to satisfy my rampant curiosity.

Well, I stop here for the evening, or risk certain death at the hands of tomorrow's 23-hour work schedule. No, that is not a typo. In all likelihood, I will get home at about 3:30 A.M. on Satuday. Hooray for long weekends...and kittens.

Trial by Fire

Day Three: I am still diligent, still sleepy, and still motivated. I am still in the awkward stages of academic beginnings...just beyond the scripted introductions, on the cusp of something both tenuous and incredibly strong. In a few, short days, the experimental, arts-integrated team teaching is already having an effect on me. It is even more necessary to adapt teaching styles, because now, I have to bounce everything off of my co-teacher, as well as my students. Class sizes range from a reasonable sixteen students in one eighth grade section, to a whopping thirty seven students in one sixth grade class. I have a hundred and fifty children, several other teachers, and five different curricula to consider. My IEPs are due by tomorrow, and my budget requests are due by Friday. Admittedly, this is all a bit overwhelming. It's really difficult to spread oneself so thin, to worry about the practicalities of life whilst trying to cram all of the early madness into a few, short days.

I spent some time reading through the student questionaires this afternoon, and I'm glad that I asked more questions, this year. Some of the answers made me smile, some of them surprised me, and some of them broke my heart. Teaching is a lovely profession, but a difficult one for someone who is a bit insecure. I often wonder how many students I am able to reach, and how many I miss. I was really surprised at several eighth-graders who requested my class again, this year. Many of them were outcasts. Many of them struggled in my class--and truthfully, I got a few who selected my class as their first choice, when I was convinced that they hated me or hated music in previous years. I really only got one extremely negative response. I wish that I could make everyone love my subject area, that I could uplift every one of my students, and that they would all feel more valued and successful at the end of each semester.

For now, I am optimistic. Team teaching will make me more aware of myself and my students' needs. With any luck, this year will be the most successful one yet.

Day Two: I felt a lot more confident, today. I was able to use my planning time to the fullest, and I still had time left over to get some extra work done. I got some minor practice time in, my room is still clean, and my new classes were receptive and fun. That said, it's only Day Two.

I am feeling a bit rebellious. I'm not being particularly kind to myself, concerning sleep. (Obviously, it's 1:15 A.M....) I've been so used to working nights, and I want my body to adjust NOW. I just need to be a bit more diligent about getting myself on a schedule, and try not to worry too much about being tired or a bit grumpy. At the beginning of the year, these things are to be expected. Still, I'd like to learn how to nap again. It practically saved me during student teaching, all those years ago, but I haven't quite gotten the knack for it in my professional life. I need to be particularly nice to myself this year, considering all that I am trying to do with my classes and with my life.

I have a lot more to discuss tomorrow, but for now, I think I should follow my own advice and go to bed, finally.

First Day Blues

...and pinks, and purples, and sunset orange-and-yellows....

Today was my first day back at school; the whole world turned upside-down. I had a new haircut and color, a new classroom set-up, new students, and a new schedule. This is the year of change, apparently. I really like the method and the madness behind my decorations, this year. Although I will teach vocal and general music as usual, I will also be exploring the concept of heroism with my students. What makes us crave superhero movies and Olympic wins? What makes us sympathize with the villians? What makes heroes--and artists--human? In addition to my regular curriculum, I am also part of something new and exciting, this year: arts integration. Not that I didn't integrate the arts in my own classes before, but this semester, I am team teaching four classes with the visual arts teacher. Admittedly, it is a bit daunting. I just received my official schedule on Thursday, a mere four days before classes began. Needless to say, it didn't exactly give me ample time to prepare. I felt like I was scrambling to get everything done before this morning. That said, it was still more relaxed than it was, last year. (Until this morning, that is. Both available copiers misfed, after waiting twenty minutes for one, and printing only twenty two copies on the other. Argh.) Between the odd hours from my summer job and my lack of necessary information, I was left feeling less prepared for the start of the year than I would have preferred.

In all likelihood--and with any luck--this will be my last year teaching in Baltimore City. This realization brings with it mixed emotions. On one hand, I am feeling a bit more adventurous about the entire year. I'm more willing to try new things and take a leap into unknown territory. I'm more interested in my role as teacher and more motivated to live up to it. On the other side of that coin, though, is fear. I worry about making this year one of the best. I worry about the success of my students, both in music and in life. I felt awkward today, in comparison to my co-teacher...less in command of my words. I stumbled. I made a huge blunder that I regret, in retrospect. All of this will pass. Beyond this, I have hope for the future. Grad. school, reconnecting with the people who mean the most to me, and reconnecting with the process of making art of my life.

I have a lot of inner work to do. I'm currently reading a lot of books on creativity and the arts, music cognition, fear, teaching.... I think that's why I didn't blog as often as I had intended, last year. Perfectionism, the dreaded beast and my longtime foe, got in the way. I wanted this place to be clinical, analytical, and completely impersonal. I just wanted to brainstorm and discuss current articles, news, etc. I craved anonimity. I've since realized, though, that being a teacher implies a very real need to connect with one's own humanity, as well as the community in which we work. I didn't want to allow my failed lessons and faulty reasoning to creep into my entries. I wanted to admit that I was learning, but I didn't want to admit what I didn't already know. I have to throw all of that out the window, now. If art is process, then so too is life. I have to get used to this action and reflection, so I can continue to grow as a person and as a teacher.

Wish me luck.