Good times, Bad times

I always prefer the bad news first, so I'll talk about the bad stuff and then end on a higher note. My seventh grade choir had morning rehearsal this morning. We have it every other week because throughout the normal school day, the choir is split up into four different classes. Morning rehearsals give them a chance, albeit a very small chance, to practice singing together as a large group. I get really antsy about these rehearsals. I realize and am overcome by their importance and am almost rendered useless by that fact. I am hurried; I try to do too much, or not enough. It's like I can't just calm down and run my rehearsal. I tried again today. This time I wasn't the problem. My kids were dead. Perhaps they were still asleep. Perhaps they were ill-motivated. Regardless, their sound was discouragingly wimpy. Sixty-eight kids sounded like twenty anemic kids. The concert is three weeks away. My nerves are daily getting more and more on edge as my mind is flooded with things I and the choir have yet to do or accomplish. We don't have T-shirts, we don't have our performance polo shirts, we haven't memorized our music, we have yet to finish learning the combined piece. So why was I so disappointed in my choir this morning? I think it's because I have such high expectations. I see the potential not only in each voice, but in the combined efforts of all voices. It's almost like one of those Spiderman-blessing/curse things. It's great that I have such high expectations, but it kills me this time of year as I'm preparing for performance. I was reminded by a good friend that it's not me, its 7th graders. Perhaps it was simply an "off day". I suppose time will tell.

Okay, enough of that. Here's a story from yesterday. I had choir classes all day (love those days). When fourth period came, I zipped over to the band room to ask Ms. Marshall something. She was showing a new band student his instrument. That's right, it's the middle of October and someone transferred into band. I went back to my room and began class with fourth period. Within minutes, we were shaken from our seats as a blaring sound came from the hallway. One student was teaching the new band student how to play his saxaphone... for the first time! The blind leading the blind! Every time I tried to speakHONK! or SQUARK! It's like that commercial with the couple in the hotel room. Every time the guy tries to talk to his wife, he gets interrupted by construction! Eventually, he stopped, or so we thought. I had my class singing a major scale on solfege. I told them that I wouldn't be using the piano this time and gradually wanted them to be able to sing a major scale completely on their own without my help at all. "Why don't we just try to do that now?" one student asked. Bold. "Ok," I said. I gave them their starting pitch and they were on their own. It was like I had pushed them out of the nest and they were flying by themselves! They went all the way up, and were on their way down staying perfectly in tune! It was a magical moment! .... Fa, Mi, Re, Do (they nailed it!) Before I could even catch my breath... HONK! It was perfectly timed. We lost it. It ruined all their hard work in a hilarious way. We sat and laughed for a good two minutes before we could continue rehearsal. I love when I genuinely laugh at work, which I do often.

One final note to other DMS teachers: anyone else sick of seeing seventh grade girls on crutches? I'm not buying it.