Reflection on the First Semester or "What was it you wanted me to do?"

The semester is nearing an end already, and I have begun my bi-yearly reflections on how things actually transpired in my classes versus what I planned to have transpire.  Sometimes, I am able to see how the design allowed for rich learning transfers to take place, and others, well, not so much!  At any rate, I like to take some notes on the things I want to change, tweak, add or simply drop and never, ever try again!

One of the hardest things to judge is how much I bring to the table and how much my students bring and how to entice them to bring more.  I felt many times during the semester that I cared much more than they did, and worried about them much more than they did!  Part of that is my age, knowing what they need now to be most successful in the future.  And part of it is an overgrown sense of responsibility and perfectionism I carry with me about teaching...if only I taught them better, they would learn it...another myth I need to give up on.

I have a wide variety of age levels, but seems I may have more sophomores than any other level across the courses I teach.  Seems the last few years, I have had more of the upperclassmen than that and there is a difference between freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors!  There is a difference between music education majors and education majors actually.  Not good or bad, just different. And that has had me trying to figure out if any of those differences have affected some of what I am seeing in my classes.

The truth is, I am disappointed that there isn't a sense of curiosity or wonder in so many of them.  That they don't want to take an assignment and run with enthusiasm toward an area that they enjoy, but rather do the minimum and then feign misunderstanding.  "But I thought this was right."  Or "I thought this was what you said you wanted."  And I always respond, "Is this your best work? Is this what you wanted to share with me that you have learned?"

I have office hours, I answer my emails immediately, I write out samples, post student samples, write out instructions, post instructions, explain instructions...but no matter what I do, they seem completely befuddled by more than one instruction.  Forget a complex assignment, even if we build up to it.  They don't want to have to sit down and think something through that takes more than an evening of work.  And forget following a calendar! Just have an assignment due and actually get it done on time? Nope, not going to happen.  They just hope you forget about it.  Now, this isn't true for all of them, but for many it is, sadly, the case.

I changed tactics in one class and told them that the minimum of what I wanted for our final project would be a C.  If they wanted an A, they had to work for it, digging in, and really showing me what they had learned in the course.  I wonder if it is because I run a project-based classroom, and that hasn't been the norm for them ever.  I don't give them tests with right or wrong answers - we are actively 'musicking' or asking questions with a plethora of possible responses that might ask them to think below the surface response.  Though I still get the surface responses, and then I keep asking more questions.  Anyway, that seemed to gain a bit more attention..."wait, so how do I figure out how to get an A?"  And to that I responded, "How might you be able to show me what you have learned in the class?"...and we went on from there.  I hope and pray that brings out more in them.  That remains to be seen.

So I need to change my tactics a bit.  Perhaps have more 'check-points' where they have to meet higher standards than they have of themselves.  I don't think many have standards for themselves at all.  They simply haven't thought about it that way - after all, they pay for the class, I am responsible to teach them what they need to know!  So maybe a few shocker activities at the beginning of the semester to make them realize they will be responsible for the acquisition of the knowledge we will be constructing together in the course. Perhaps more opportunities to transfer what they are learning in other classes to what we are learning together.

I have had some really wonderful moments in the semester...when my students finally seemed to really understand transposition and how to use it in score study and rehearsal...when we were studying masterworks and they discovered something in the score they hadn't noticed before...when the delight of making music made my elementary education students forget they were not (as they tell me often) 'musicians'...when they stop by to share that they really enjoyed a class discussion or topic that day...those keep me working hard.

Next semester brings a different set of courses, and different challenges.  I know I have learned much about working with the youngest of the college set, and will enjoy finding new ways to connect the material I want to share with them in more meaningful ways.  I just hope I haven't scarred the ones I experimented on this semester! Or maybe I should ask my evaluators..."What was it you wanted me to do??"

If Anyone Asks Me...

This week I received an email with a plan the government has for addressing the problems with education. I must admit, after the first few paragraphs, I was disgruntled. Not because I believe education doesn't need reform, but because I think that we are still missing the entire crux of the issue - nowhere in that document did the author(s) describe what an educated person of the 21st Century should look like, act like, or know. Why would we design a system to correct something when we don't know exactly what it is we want as an outcome?

You might say, well, we need accountability. Apparently, the government needs to blame A PROFESSION for this mess. So the suggestion is to test the teacher candidates...and if they pass the test, they get to teach. These teachers get jobs, but if those teachers fail to have their students in the K-12 classroom pass their 'tests' then we can hold the universities (who trained those teachers) accountable for the failure. Hmmm....with that logic, shouldn't congress be held responsible for the failings of the banks? Or the lack of jobs? I mean, who is the ONE person responsible for this mess? Seems to me, with that logic, one would be able to tag the ONE person responsible, punish them and be done with it right? All fixed. As sarcastic as I am being now, I am not saying that accountability isn't vastly important. I am just saying that perhaps we are continuing to look at education the wrong way. By looking backward instead of forward.

For instance, let's go back to a discussion of how to educate a child. What do we want for that child? What is needed for that child to become a successful member of society? As any of us of a certain age would agree, the world was vastly different during the century our grandparents lived in, and it has changed even faster for the next two generations. Change is not likely to slow in the near future. Rather than looking back to 'regain' what we think we have lost - which is a post for another day - perhaps we should begin to look forward to what we need to gain. What we might imagine the future to be. We don't need to relive the good old days - we need to create the good ol' days of the future! And we have to determine what that might look like before we decide how to assist our children in getting to a future we may never see.

I can tell you what isn't going to work. Creating a generation of Americans who can't imagine the next big thing. A generation devoid of creativity...a generation where having ONE right answer to bubble in is the only way they understand how to achieve. A generation who believes competition is more valuable than collaboration, and that winning is the only goal at any cost.

I believe our children need the kind of education that encourages them to continue to be curious about the world over a lifetime. The kind of education where each student is encouraged to be the kind of adult who uses his or her imagination to envision a better world, a better car, a better yard, a better family. The kind of education that encourages collaboration and construction of knowledge which acknowledges the multiplicity of viewpoints and celebrates diversity. The kind of education that is truly the social equalizer, where no matter how much money a parent makes, each and every child will have access to the same kinds of programs in art, music, theatre, dance, health and physical education. The kind of education where the graduates lead by example, with a highly developed sense of social justice and emotional intelligence. The kind of education which encourages the ethics of care for all life on the planet.

What do we want for our nation in the future? Again, I sure don't want a group of adults leading the country who trained in ways which were obsolete by the time they began their careers, because it was flush with tests that had bubbled-in multiple choice answers. I want adults who can solve problems creatively because they can think in many different ways, and can work well with others, finding solutions to the difficult issues that will continue to plague mankind. I want adults who care as much about the welfare of others as they do for their own, where making a buck involves lifting others up, not keeping it away from someone else.

Anyway, if anyone would ask me, that is where I would start.

The First Page...

This past week was orientation for my new job. It was roughly 8AM until 5PM each day, with so much information, my head is still pulsing! It is amazing how ready you can think you are and still have only scratched the surface of what you need to know! I have so many papers...so many notes...so much to still make decisions on...and yet, all I can think about is that first week of classes with my students.

On my walk to the campus each day, I tried to take it all in. The way it looks without students, the sounds of the bushes being clipped, the sticky breeze that is the south...I tried to attend to all my senses as I sorted through the emotions of the day. I wanted to stay in the moment, and pull everything I could from it. And I won't say I always felt the same way about the meetings, as I don't sit still very well, but I did try!

I really connected with this place in the process - I have found it to be very friendly, warm, and welcoming. A place where people go out of their way to make you feel a part of the group. Nobody will simply leave you alone, or allow you stand alone in a corner. Even the students seem to recognize instantly that I am new and ask for introductions! Some have already figured out who I am (I had forgotten my picture is already published) and have called me by name. There is so much pride in the school, such a strong identity, that I can't help but be pulled along. I also have the sense that I need to live up to those expectations, which continues to make the process of beginning the first page of a new job a little more unnerving!

I won't be Pollyanna and talk about the wonderful world of higher education. Let's be real and accept that this is a rough time to start out at this level (or any education level at all), with expectations high, pay low, and some political problems that make K-12 public school teaching look tempting again. The pressures are real, the problems are deep, and changes need to be made. And it may be my job to figure out how to be a part of the solution and not get caught up in the whirling waters of dissent and negativity. Yet, I get the feeling this is a 'scrappy' place when it comes to toughing it out. And I mean that as a compliment! At least, that is my sense at the beginning of things - the message is this: Yes, things are bad. Yes, they have gotten worse. But we have students to teach, and a new generation to help...and that is what we must do, by hook or by crook.

It makes me sad that education is still struggling, but I love that sense of digging into the problems that face us and not walking away. Not giving up or giving in. Standing tall against the voices of craziness that I hear all too often. I felt a sense of solidarity, of a group of people who may agree to disagree, but can actually find common ground to solve problems. Problems that are never simple to fix, but complex and difficult. Not in a manner that is perfect, nor pretty, but messy, ugly, and bumpy, where difficult moments lead to solutions and a better future.

So this is how I can be optimistic about such a difficult time - I am in a great place. I can be thrilled to be doing what I love to do - teaching music to others - and revel in the bone-weary exhaustion that sometimes comes in doing a job well. I almost need to pinch myself - I was teaching high school band in Indiana only 5 years ago - and here I am, living something that I often thought was just a dream! The butterflies in my stomach grow daily and I can't wait to actually meet all the students and start the good work and fight the good fight. The first page of the experience here has been written...and I can't wait to write the next!

A cat, a house, a dog...and I am not Superman!

Just wanted to share the story of my day. The things life teaches us when we least expect it!

Got up today to take Ike (our 2 year old cat) into the vet to get her wellness check so we could give her drugs for the trip to our new home. Or just whenever we want for fun, but mostly for the trip to be sure there is no mewing. Max (our 7 year old Border Collie Mix) would bark at her if she did that and there would be total mayhem in the car. Mark decided he would put Ike in the new carrier to see how she would do, about 45 min. ahead of the time we needed to leave. She was fine, staying in a few minutes and calmly walking out after the experiment. That carrier is much smaller and better suited to our 4 pound wonder cat Guyton, so we got the bigger carrier out instead. That was about the time Ike went postal on us. Seriously, if the cat had thumbs and a gun, it might have been all over. Finally, after chasing her round and round, she ran and hid under our bed. We could not even coax her out with bacon (oh, yeah, that is another story), and she ran into the guest bedroom under the bed. Well, we have now lost our travel time, so I call the vet and actually said, "I have no idea how many more places this damn cat will squeeze herself into before we can get there!" They said no problem, laughing a bit like this happens a lot, and told me we should just come whenever we can grab her and get there.

While I was on the phone, Mark had chased Ike into the living room, through the dining room and around through the kitchen. I dove at her in the family room, and she scrambled BACK into the guest bedroom. I am now cussing at this #$#@*# cat. I pulled the bed away from the wall enough to squeeze myself in and I felt cat claws and heard madcap hissing...about that time the phone rang. I disentangle myself from the bed and the claws to answer it. "Hello, this is the Real Estate Listing Service. We have a request for a showing for you today at 10 AM" and I said, "Wait...you mean in 45 min? Really?" I freaked out. Rather like the cat. My voice was about as high as Minnie Mouse or Cindy Bear...and Yogi was not calming me down. I said, "Oh, my god, no, I am packing the entire house, and chasing a cat to take it to the vet. There is no way I can do this today!! Can you ask them if there is another time?" She was great and said yes, she would let me know. I bet I said said much more than that in my pure panicked way....I hung up with the listing service and called our agent. She talked me off my perfectionist ledge, and Mark made me sit down to talk...and we decided we could have the house ready for showing by 2PM. Still no cat back in the carrier. We had no idea at this point where she had hidden.

SO I called the service back, they changed the period of NO SHOWINGS from 10 - 2PM, and we went back to chasing said cat. No luck. More hissing and clawing. I said, "TO HELL WITH HER, I am not giving her our new address! She can stay with the house." Called the vet, they laughed and said, "Can you come at 4:30?" Mark said, "YES!! She wants to be fed then...we will trick her and it will be perfect!" More laughter. NOT from me. It is now 10:30. We have been chasing that #^@$&#* CAT since 9AM. Now I have so much nervous energy, I start rearranging boxes (the kitchen and bathrooms were scrubbed down yesterday, so they are clean), get out the sweeper, WHICH I think just might just suck up the reluctant cat, but that didn't happen either. More wishful thinking on my part I suppose, as I am still mad at that silly cat. Mark took the Wal-Mart list to get the items needed and by noon, the house was ready for showing.

At 11:30, the listing service let me know the agent will bring the clients to see our house at 10AM tomorrow morning, relieving the pressure for the day. Of course I am still worried, because I have had the house perfectly staged for nobody for 6 weeks, with about 2 showings. I sure hope the folks coming to see the house are not teatotalers and enjoy the creative decorating with liquor boxes, because they do look quite lovely in the corners. They might enjoy some of the labels. Like the one that says, "Yes, this really IS a wine box" or the one that says, "No Whiskey here, only pots and pans. Keep looking!". I was entertaining myself by creating labels.

Ike came out at lunch time, on cue, and decided we were just fine again. Probably because we control the food. She just padded right out like nothing had just transpired. WOW. So later that afternoon, not to be outdone by her again, about 20 minutes before we needed to leave for the vet...again...she was sleeping beside me on the couch. I scooped her up and dumped her into the carrier. Not a peep during my route to the carrier and she didn't fight me. No claws, no sound, no problem. She mewed a bit after my dumping her in (about 5 min.) and then was quiet. Max, however, decided that I must not understand the cat was TRAPPED in a BOX, and began his "Momma, Timmy is in the well!" routine. First he 'talks' to me. Then he barks at me. Then he runs over to the carrier and barks. Back to me. More barking. Now grabbing at my hands and being insistent. Back to the carrier, with more barking. To which I kept saying, "Max the kitty is fine! Go lie down."

Poor Max was quite perplexed and not at all happy with the situation. I guess he decided if I was that stupid, he better work on Mark. And then he had to do all that over again. Damn that smart dog! If he were just a bit more intelligent he would figure out that a cat in the box is worth two in the bush...or something like that. Mark repeated what I kept saying, and he just looked so confused and not at all ready to give in...not Mark, the dog. Well, Mark too, but that was something else I was trying to tell him about the configuration of the new laundry room in Greenville...

So we got Max settled in with a dog cookie tucked into a toy to distract him, we left with a quiet kitty cat, and her check-up was perfect. Only she never mewed. So why the heck did I do all that? TO STOP THE MEWING IN THE CAR...which apparently, she no longer does. $53 later, we find out our cat likes to ride in the car, the dog WILL bark at the cat in the carrier, and liquor boxes CAN add to the drama of staging. Huh.

And that, as they say, is the rest of the story.

Except for bacon. I will save that for another day.

The Journey, part two

The past week I started thinking about the journey I set out on with my husband four years ago. I gave up a job I loved, in the place I felt most at home in the world to go back to school and earn a Ph. D. I always thought I would love doing university teaching, but I just couldn't imagine giving up being around children and teaching music in the band room. I have found the job that actually encourages me to do both and write on top of it all. I couldn't feel more fortunate!

The fact that the first journey is complete should have already set in. Sometimes it does - when someone calls me "Dr."....when I look at my diploma...when things are just quiet and there are no deadlines to be met! And the new journey has begun, as we pack up the house and deal with the logistics of relocation for the new college job. It is a strange transition that has me so moody I have begun to feel a bit bipolar!

I figure, if it is a bit painful to make a break from where you are - that is probably one of the greater blessings of having established important bonds with special people! I will always love this place, these people, these incredibly special moments of my life. It is where I found myself, where I have come closer to becoming who I was meant to be, and because of that, the individuals who encouraged me to grow and stretch will remain treasured mentors, colleagues, and friends. It isn't that this is a more important place than others in my life, but it may be the place where I was able to change the most since childhood. So leaving is both wonderful and painful and a bit scary. I know I lived my life to the fullest here and I don't regret any minute of it! I never wanted to be anywhere else in these four years, and I can almost count the number of times I was sad...so it was a very happy time.

Looking forward, I know there are more changes ahead and yet, I have little sense of what they might feel like. Intellectually I know I am ready. My heart hasn't caught up with my head quite yet. I am totally thrilled to have the opportunity I have! I have a job that actually pays me to do exactly what I wanted to do, in the place I wanted to do it in, close to our children, on the east coast, and to put the icing on the cake, with a wonderful group of people I feel a bond with already! I know in this economy, that has not happened for many of my colleagues who graduated this spring. I worked hard to get in the position, but I also realize that the stars had to align for this to happen. To say I am thankful is an understatement.

The last week I spent conducting a junior band at THE MOST WONDERFUL summer music camp with the most amazing group of people. One of the other conductors called it "Disneyland for band nerds" and that is the perfect description! I was inspired by other directors, impressed with the number of directors working as rehearsal assistants, thrilled by the musicianship class material that aligned with my goals for the week, and humbled by the sheer musical talent flowing around me. And the best part? I was home. Heart, body, and soul - at home. What a beautiful way to end the time I have spent in Greensboro!

I can hardly wait to finish the move and settle into the new job and new community! No matter what bumps we have along the way, we are happy and together and doing what we want to dow with our lives. How great is that? But right now, I should get back to my to do list for moving!

Rest in Peace

This week, a former student wrote to share that a former classmate had taken his own life. She only knew that this young man had been in band with me, and wanted to be sure I knew. Her reaching out was so very thoughtful and caring, and I was touched that she would know that I would care to know this. She didn't know the rest of the story.

Jason had been my son's best friend from nursery school until about middle school, where their interests went different directions. Though they remained friends, they were not as close as they had been as little guys, giggling together over something silly, digging in the woods for 'lost treasure' as they told me...eating pancakes at the breakfast table after an overnight stay. They played trombone together in the band, and weathered many storms of pre-adolescence. Jason was very sweet, cooperative and easy-going. The two together seemed to laugh a lot, and both seemed to drag their feet when it came to growing up too fast. Jason's family taught Ty how to ride three-wheelers, and their family activities were quite physical and outdoors...very different from our family, and I thought good for my son as well. I enjoyed short chats with his parents and older brother, waiting for the boys to clean up their messes before taking one or another home. How did that time seem to last forever, but now represents only a heartbeat so long ago?

Both boys graduated from high school and went their separate ways, to different universities, and different lives. Jason became a Sergeant in the National Guard after graduation, and got home in December from a tour in Afghanistan. I am not sure what the story is after all that, but I would guess, from the limited knowledge I have, that he may have suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. The Jason I knew was bright, sensitive, loving, caring, and very loyal. I believe he was that kind of young man as well, and was probably a very strong leader serving his country. To end his own life - we can only begin to imagine the pain he was in and why he felt this was the only way out. I think of him several times a day - lamenting the loss of an incredible young man, knowing a light went out in the world, and worrying about his family. I have no words for his family that can ease a loss of this magnitude. I can't even begin to explain the pain I feel myself, which pales in comparison to theirs.

And there is the pain my children feel as well - much deeper, much fresher, more acute. My son may feel he lost a big part of his childhood and though the two men hadn't communicated much over the past eight years, I know he wants to reach out to the family that provided a second home for him for so many years. My daughter reached out to her brother, to be sure he was supported as well. We are all too far away to be with the family, and the distance feels obscene right now. Almost as if through the act of moving, we have forsaken the ties that were so important for so long. There is some guilt lying underneath all of that I suppose. Perhaps the feeling that I have disengaged my children from their community roots without their permission.

I have no words of wisdom. The cold, hard truth of life sometimes just is what it is. Everything about this is horrible. And for my children, this is only the beginning of learning to deal with loss. And there is no softening of these blows. Wrapping my arms around them can no longer protect them. It merely lets them know I am still here.

So, I dug up the old home movies of the boys to copy for my son, the memories that were made over a very short lifetime. We wrote notes to his family, and sent money off to Wounded Warriors. I suppose that is the best we can do right now. Except perhaps - Rest in peace, Jason. You will be missed greatly by many.

The Fine Art of Becoming...

We are all becoming...each moment of each day, we are becoming someone older, someone wiser, perhaps more cynical, or even more loving. I always hope each day brings me a bit closer to who I am meant to be. And in a practical sense, sometimes that means figuring out who I am becoming as a university professor!

Ever since I finished the dissertation, or the beast as I have referred to it, I have felt a mild sense of foreboding, a tightness in my chest that offered up the doubt I am sure anyone who has written a dissertation has: Could it be I only have this one document to write? Is that it? As is my usual fashion when I become overly-anxious, I seek counsel from those who have stood where I am standing now. So I did just that - asked anyone and everyone I have found to talk to the question "How do you find time to write and publish?" In my unofficial research, I found that nobody seems to organize their writing in the same way and nobody feels they have the tiger by the tail so to speak!

I gathered lots of sage advice. Write every day. Get up early and do it first thing. Write before you go to bed. Schedule a time every day to write. Writing is hard. You will get rejected a lot - so write a lot. Expect to struggle. Use your students. Do collaborative projects. Have different research projects at different stages at all times. Have at least three projects going all the time: one that has been submitted, but may need revisions, one that is in process, and one that is being developed. Some people write in their vacation times, others only one or two days a week. Most suggested the every day approach, however, but admitted that they didn't follow their own advice. The best gift I got for graduation (beside my family gifts of course) was a small book by Paul Silva called, How to write a lot: A practical guide to productive academic writing, a gift from one of my professors. It was a quick read and well-worth it. The tips were not anything lofty or unimaginable, but rather a stab at all the excuses university people make for NOT spending time doing something that can eventually lead them toward publication success (rather than perish, of course).

That book inspired personal goals for the summer - the overarching goal is to discover how productive I am and what I can produce in a given time period. I am keeping track of what I write, how much I write, and some extended notes so that in the future I can plan out my projects and estimate the time it may take me to do so. I am learning when I write best, when I do not and what I need to be happy doing it. I am lucky that two of my projects are collaborative. One I am leading and one I am following...so I have the opportunity to experiment in a safe environment. So far, I have been pleasantly surprised. Keeping detailed notes helps me organize each week's sessions and my list of to-do on each project is progressing nicely. I have managed, in two weeks time, to write well over 2,000 words, arrange a meeting to discuss a collaborative project, plan an article and presentation for November, finish an article I had in a file and send it to a peer for review, outline a paper for another collaborative project, detailed with references, begin a book review for MEJ and write up a synopsis for an idea for the graduate course I will teach in the spring.

When I look at the time I put in - only about 14 hours a week - it is amazing to me that I am moving forward in many areas at once. I am learning what takes more time (reading, preparing to write, editing) and what takes the least time (outlining and actual writing) for me personally. I have a nice journal started that will assist me when the fall gets fast and furious too. Mind you, rather than taking a part-time paying job this summer, I have devoted that time to writing. When I think of it in those terms - loss of salary - I push myself a little bit harder. I have to make my time worth something after all!

Maybe I am feeling full of myself right now...and I know from life experiences that there are going to be some dark days of rejection ahead of me, but I want to revel in the new experiences I am having of becoming...and I am excited to see where my next words will take me!