The Bad and the Good

I've written before about being a grad school student while teaching, and some of the challenges and benefits. My fall class was a lot better than my summer classes, and one idea from the class has stuck with me even though I'm done with the class now: music education is not inherently good. It seemed ironic to hear a question about whether music education was good in a music education degree program in which most of us had spent a years in the field and were currently spending $3,500 to take a music education class. But something about the articles we read and the premise of the question makes so much sense: not every educational experience is a good one.

Education as a harmful experience has helped me make sense of so many of my own school experiences, both as a K-12 student and in college and grad school. Not every class helped me learn something (though I wrote a snarky "this class has taught me how not to teach" on more than one course evaluation) useful. Not every class was worth the time and effort I put in. There's a reason some school experiences didn't work for me beyond my flaws as a student, of which there are many.

But so much of education is good. An a-ha moment about a topic students really care about. Bonding over a certain song, whether it's as part of a Red Sox victory celebration or a more serious occasion. Laughing with a class until everyone needs a drink of water. Hugs from students. Working hard on something and improving on it. Having those goosebump musical moments. It's up to teachers to make those good experiences happen more often, to help students learn and have positive school experiences. This isn't to say teachers should aim to be perfect. Or to "save" students. But if we can find something at school for every kid to look forward to every day, maybe things will be a little better. Or maybe, we can look at experiences that are hurtful for a lot of students (cough, standardized testing, cough) and reimagine a better way.

Me, I'll take the bad with the good, and be grateful that it seems the worst of my experiences as a student should be behind me.

Beginning Band and the Joy of Starting Again

If you've never heard a first day beginning band class, you should. Also, go hug your friendly neighborhood beginning band teacher. The first week of band is incredible, joyful, and totally exhausting. There's an entire world of things to teach, from how to assemble instruments to how to make a sound to how to get the spit condensation out after playing (gross, but necessary). But there's this spark in the students that makes it all worth it, even when I find myself saying "left hand on top" for the millionth time. They chose to play an instrument, and are so excited to finally get to do it. The first sounds are always full of squeaks, squawks, and whistles. They're often followed by laughter or disgusted-looking faces. But that moment right before they play, that first inhalation as a group... that's where the magic is.

One breath, one momentary collective pause, holds so much potential. They made the choice, honored the commitment and showed up, and now they're headed somewhere. It might be towards our first concert, middle school band, or maybe even a professional musician gig, but nonetheless we're working towards something. They're cooperating, collaborating, and all those other buzzwords. And they're taking a big risk, because after that breath in...

There's a sound. A joyful noise, as a I call it. Something, even if just a whisper of air, comes out of their instrument. But it's a start. Something to work from. The first note of thousands more to come. There's so much beauty in potential, in hope, in moving forward. In learning and improving. Beginning band has so much to teach... especially to this band teacher.