"Nothing."
It's a saying that my parents lovingly said to each other, and still say, when they are faced with challenges of things going wrong. It makes a lot of sense to me now, as I have tried to establish some things at my middle school band program that have been met with some mixed reviews from students and parents. The main thrust of this post will be about my experiences with my attempts to have high standards and a thorough system of accountability, and kids quitting band because of it.
In order to fully grasp this, you need a little background information to set up the stories about quitting: In college, they taught us all these creative, educationally and pedagogically sound ways to enhance band, to make it more than just deficit style teaching. These methods include things like comprehensive musicianship teaching presentations, student centered questioning, and other activities that help students learn and do music that are a bit more than "no, that's wrong, play it again."
A big component of this new way of thinking about band is assessment. We were taught that it is crucial for music education to show that it is a serious, academic subject just like anything else, in order to appease administrators who are looking for evaluation tools, and to advocate for music programs by showing that we are not just an extracurricular, we are a core subject. Music (or band) is not just an activity where students are just given As if they show up. It's a course that requires lots of hard work that can and should be assessed and evaluated. So we have evaluation tools and assessments such as playing tests and practice reports.
I do believe in that, I really do. And as I sat in my undergraduate desk, I was so excited to get out there and give kids that well-rounded, comprehensive music education. Then I got a job, and now I'm trying to make it work, and it is tough (you know what's easy?)
My students, who have never experienced any sort of accountability, responsibility, or assessment, are suddenly getting smacked in the face with all this stuff that I'm introducing to them that I was taught in college. We're doing daily listening logs, playing tests, fingering worksheets, studying the rhythm tree, and other things that are completely foreign to them. They are used to barely scraping by at a sub-mediocre level, and the director singing their parts at them enough times to essentially memorize the few songs they are working on. They aren't used to being asked to figure things out for themselves, to work hard, and be held accountable for their playing. You've probably read me say that enough times now over the past few months.
The thing that really worked against me was, with all these assessments, some kids' grades suffered, because they turned in hardly any practice reports, if any, put forth no effort on listening log answers, and did not prepare at all for playing tests. But they idea that they are ingrained with is that you just get an A in band, right? That's what my they thought, that's what the parents thought, and that is naively not what I thought. I still believe in a band program based on comprehensive musicianship, assessment, and the like, but I made a big mistake in thinking it would work flawlessly from day one. It's something you have to build up and do piece by piece. I still think it was ok to do for me to start some of these new things, but I shouldn't have made it impact grades so severely from the beginning.
Because I had a bit of a revolution on my hands. Around progress report time, I heard rumblings about students quitting. I talked with some upset parents and some upset 8th graders about why their mid-term grade was what it was and how they can pick it up. Many of them did not make that effort, and when report cards came out, many students had earned Ds and Cs, which was the coup d'grace of their band careers. The best musician in the band quit, the worst behavior problem in the band quit (hallelujah?), and another 8th grader. Morale was low, from both me and the band.
I began to see that I made a real mistake. I still believed in the changes I was making, but I did not implement them in a way that would make the transition feasible for many of my students. After 3 years of a totally different system, they were unable and unwilling to jump into mine, baptism-by-fire style. So I carefully amended many grades, raising Ds to Cs and Cs to Bs, all the while trying to not compromise the solid A that most students earned. But it was too late. How could I slap my kids in the face with this new system, give them Ds and Cs for it, and then expect them to stay in this elective?
As I write this, I realize that the essence of my problem is that I am trying hard to find that balance of fun and high standards/accountability. They can coexist. They should. Some of my students don't know it yet. It's not fun to be lost every time you come to band. But it's also not fun to see a bar set too high for where the students are at this point. They weren't ready, and I just didn't realize it.
How can I create a fun, healthy, safe educational environment where standards are high and there are many systems of accountability without students feeling constantly pressured? I want the best for them. I want them to learn a ton and perform well, all the while having fun. Any teachers or anybody out there, how do you inspire and motivate your students to work hard to meet high standards while making it fun and achievable? This may be a dilemma that is solved with time, as the rebellious 8th graders are phased out, and my own kids are raised up through the program.
That's the perfect plan to turn things around, isn't it? Do as much as you can with the kids you inherited and then grow some super players who love band, love working hard, love music, and don't want to disappoint you. But then again, you know what's easy?
More on the subject of 5th grade band and motivation in the weeks to come!
Showing posts with label motivation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motivation. Show all posts
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Student Ownership
A nice article I recommend reading on giving students a little more ownership of the band and giving them an opportunity to help you out more: http://www.keynotesmagazine.com/article/?uid=297

Sunday, September 12, 2010
Jazz Update
Remember that post I made a few weeks ago about the improvisation curriculum we were going to put in place in my jazz band class? Remember how uplifting it was and how I was going to lift my students out of their musical shells and take musical risks and create? We were going to gel as a musical unit and overcome our instrumentation problems and our shyness. Remember how musically and personally rewarding it was going to be?
My kids hated it.
The entire concept was met with incredible resistance, as my kids wanted nothing to do with musical risks, creativity, and self expression. It really is hard for me to describe how much they resisted participation in our improvisation games, in the idea of playing for playing's sake, and in the value of playing this type of music.
Needless to say, this was super frustrating. I was so excited about the prospect of making improvisation the centerpiece of the class (since the instrumentation stinks and they read really poorly anyhow), and I couldn't believe it when I saw it completely fall apart.
So I want to briefly analyze the failure, because I want to put it in my back pocket to try it again later, I think it is incredibly valuable, and I want to see how I can improve as a teacher. I see two main reasons why it didn't work.
1) One of the key components of the failure of the improv curriculum lies in the fact that it was completely different than anything they had done before. People hate change. Kids hate change. It is clear to me that they are very used to a very different system than what I was trying to implement. That system, which is probably practiced by the majority of band directors (which I have resorted to often this year, sad to say) goes like so: 1) Pass out some music, 2) sightread it terribly, 3) kids wait for band director to tell them how to play it, 4) perform at a concert with varying quality.
In this system, the kids learn nothing, don't do any of the work, and the director does all the work. (I've already had to do this with my 6-8 grade band that marches parades, because we had a parade right at the beginning of the year. I see how easy it is to slip into this system).
Well, the kids are very used to this system, and when I presented a different approach to our class, they did not handle it very well. They responded to the improv curriculum with comments like "when are we going to play real music?" "this sounds dumb," etc. (The irony of the first comment is that they can't read a lick, which is one of the reasons I went the improv route in the first place. If I put music in front of them, at this point it's pretty much always a disaster).
So this is one of those things that, as the students get used to me and as I develop a reputation over months and years and I get to start doing things they way I think they ought to be done, this'll change. They won't be so used to it anymore. Our fellow blogger Nick sagely reminded me that "Rome wasn't built in a day."
2) The second point of failure in the improv curriculum is a classroom management one. This lies on me and the teacher before me. It was clear from day one that my kids are used to talking whenever they want, getting up whenever they want, and pretty much controlling the class. Obviously, that's something I wanted to change, and I'm working hard at it. My mentor teacher said that it's going to be December before I make a lasting dent, but I'm working hard at it, and we're getting better, but man, it is exhausting.
The 8th graders in particular are tough to deal with. They think they know it all, are super cool, and they are used to having zero structure and zero consequences. So they didn't immediately see the value of the improv lessons, and they just went buck wild. They didn't do what I requested of them, sometimes flat out refusing to do so, and they just wouldn't focus or work toward any goal. They're content with sub-mediocrity and goofing off.
And I guess this comes back to a problem that's even larger than the failure of the improvisation lessons. I hate being the bad guy. I have this concept of a good classroom manager in my head as someone who just doesn't have to punish students because of their mystical, esoteric ability to inspire respect, motivation, and a healthy amount of fear in their students. And man, I am so not there. If I were totally consistent with my rules, I would hand out 20 demerits a day, and that just seems ridiculous to me. I am striving for consistency and firmness, and it's easier in jazz band with just 12 kids, but in band with 45, it is just out of my reach right now. It's overwhelming.
So I guess the nexus of the problem really lies in motivation. If I can sell to my kids the value of my educational vision for them, then they'll focus, do what I ask of them, and put in the work. If I don't, then I'll be fighting my kids, dragging them along forever.
Wow, this reflection was helpful. And now I'm pumped! I have a renewed zeal to just impart my passion for music and music making in my students. I know it's not gonna stick for all my kids, especially some of these hardened 8th graders, but 5th grade beginning band is just around the corner.
My kids hated it.
The entire concept was met with incredible resistance, as my kids wanted nothing to do with musical risks, creativity, and self expression. It really is hard for me to describe how much they resisted participation in our improvisation games, in the idea of playing for playing's sake, and in the value of playing this type of music.
Needless to say, this was super frustrating. I was so excited about the prospect of making improvisation the centerpiece of the class (since the instrumentation stinks and they read really poorly anyhow), and I couldn't believe it when I saw it completely fall apart.
So I want to briefly analyze the failure, because I want to put it in my back pocket to try it again later, I think it is incredibly valuable, and I want to see how I can improve as a teacher. I see two main reasons why it didn't work.
1) One of the key components of the failure of the improv curriculum lies in the fact that it was completely different than anything they had done before. People hate change. Kids hate change. It is clear to me that they are very used to a very different system than what I was trying to implement. That system, which is probably practiced by the majority of band directors (which I have resorted to often this year, sad to say) goes like so: 1) Pass out some music, 2) sightread it terribly, 3) kids wait for band director to tell them how to play it, 4) perform at a concert with varying quality.
In this system, the kids learn nothing, don't do any of the work, and the director does all the work. (I've already had to do this with my 6-8 grade band that marches parades, because we had a parade right at the beginning of the year. I see how easy it is to slip into this system).
Well, the kids are very used to this system, and when I presented a different approach to our class, they did not handle it very well. They responded to the improv curriculum with comments like "when are we going to play real music?" "this sounds dumb," etc. (The irony of the first comment is that they can't read a lick, which is one of the reasons I went the improv route in the first place. If I put music in front of them, at this point it's pretty much always a disaster).
So this is one of those things that, as the students get used to me and as I develop a reputation over months and years and I get to start doing things they way I think they ought to be done, this'll change. They won't be so used to it anymore. Our fellow blogger Nick sagely reminded me that "Rome wasn't built in a day."
2) The second point of failure in the improv curriculum is a classroom management one. This lies on me and the teacher before me. It was clear from day one that my kids are used to talking whenever they want, getting up whenever they want, and pretty much controlling the class. Obviously, that's something I wanted to change, and I'm working hard at it. My mentor teacher said that it's going to be December before I make a lasting dent, but I'm working hard at it, and we're getting better, but man, it is exhausting.
The 8th graders in particular are tough to deal with. They think they know it all, are super cool, and they are used to having zero structure and zero consequences. So they didn't immediately see the value of the improv lessons, and they just went buck wild. They didn't do what I requested of them, sometimes flat out refusing to do so, and they just wouldn't focus or work toward any goal. They're content with sub-mediocrity and goofing off.
And I guess this comes back to a problem that's even larger than the failure of the improvisation lessons. I hate being the bad guy. I have this concept of a good classroom manager in my head as someone who just doesn't have to punish students because of their mystical, esoteric ability to inspire respect, motivation, and a healthy amount of fear in their students. And man, I am so not there. If I were totally consistent with my rules, I would hand out 20 demerits a day, and that just seems ridiculous to me. I am striving for consistency and firmness, and it's easier in jazz band with just 12 kids, but in band with 45, it is just out of my reach right now. It's overwhelming.
So I guess the nexus of the problem really lies in motivation. If I can sell to my kids the value of my educational vision for them, then they'll focus, do what I ask of them, and put in the work. If I don't, then I'll be fighting my kids, dragging them along forever.
Wow, this reflection was helpful. And now I'm pumped! I have a renewed zeal to just impart my passion for music and music making in my students. I know it's not gonna stick for all my kids, especially some of these hardened 8th graders, but 5th grade beginning band is just around the corner.
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