Inspiring Video About Classical Music in the Congo

CBS' 60 Minutes recently aired a segment about the only symphony orchestra in Sub-Sahara Africa, located in one of the poorest countries in the world, the Congo. In a city of 10 million people, there are currently 200 members whose lives now revolve around learning and performing classical music.

I won't go into the details, but instead just wanted to set up this video. It's really very inspiring, and reminds me of El Sistema, which has for a few years now both inspired me and influenced the curriculum and system I'm trying to build in the town where I teach. It is another reminder of how classical music is life changing, and how what we do as music teachers has the powerful potential to change lives for the better. 

Enjoy the video!

Here is the link to the internet article: Producer finds musical "sweet spot" in the Congo.

Musically yours,

Mr. Cooper

Who is Responsible for Learning - the Teacher, or the Student?

Hello again!

One of the long running debates in education is the question of who is ultimately responsible for student learning - the student, or the teacher?

This is a topic that nearly everyone and their dog will contest at some point, even people outside of the education world. The student who had a terrible experience with their teachers might blame their school experience for their lack of enthusiasm for learning, or their poor lot in life. The person who fought tooth and nail to become successful might argue that it's the student's responsibility.

It's also like the argument for technology in schools. Some people say, "That's how students learn now" while other might say, "If they really want to learn, they can read out of a textbook. That's how we've been learning for hundreds of years, and it worked just fine." The answer varies from person to person depending on their personality and experience.

Everyone has an opinion. But who is right? And more importantly, how should we as teachers look at this argument? A teacher's stance on this issue has a huge impact on how they structure their classes, assignments, and teaching style. At some point, we all need to analyze this philosophical point and take a stance.

"Ultimately, the Student is Responsible"

Can you really argue against this stance?

We live in a society that believes that you can be anything you want to be if  you're willing to do the work that is necessary. Regardless of what happens around you, regardless of your circumstances, you can be successful. But it's not easy - it's hard. And ultimately, if you don't make it, you only have yourself to blame.

Just like in the classroom. You might have the world's worst teacher, or the world's most boring teacher. But does that give you license to fail? How many of us have had teachers whose class worked something like this:

"Today we're going to read Chapter 16. After we're finished you will answer questions 1-20 at the back of the chapter for your homework assignment." Either the class takes turns reading, or the teacher reads.

Were these inspiring or even interesting classes? No. We all had teachers like this. But just because they weren't really teaching, did that give us permission to fail? No. And most of us didn't. We might not have learned much, but we did the work and passed the class.

I've heard the argument many times that no matter what you do, it's ultimately the student who is responsible for their learning. After all, you can't be sure the student is really practicing. You can't make them take their instrument home, and sometimes you just know that they're forging the initials on their practice charts.

If the student really wanted to be good, they would practice, right? Right. So if they don't practice, it's because they don't care. Whose fault is that? Not caring is a mind set, so didn't the student choose that? If a band walks into rehearsal and hardly does more than waste time, it's because they don't care about being good, right?

Many would say, "Right." I've literally heard an active, veteran band director say (not one I'm close to, by the way), "The kids at my school suck." I've also heard things like, "The students just don't care.", or, "That school just has good students."

Is it true that some schools have better students than other schools? After all, some schools are TEA recognized or exemplary, while others are at the bottom of the barrel. Why do some campuses have high academic achievement while others struggle? Maybe it's the students.

And maybe it's not totally their fault. Maybe they come from bad neighborhoods, or have bad parents. I think we can all agree that schools have different demographics, and that the demographics of a school do impact the culture and present different challenges for the faculty and administration. All of those things, many will agree, are outside of our control.

But is all of this really outside of our control? Or at least outside of our realm of influence? Not according to the other camp. They believe that....

"Ultimately, the Teacher is Responsible"

After you left that class where the teacher's version of teaching was to have students grade the previous night's homework, take turns reading the chapter, and then individually answer questions at the back of the book, you probably were relieved to be sitting in a class where the teacher took a radically different approach.

Not the worst on screen interpretation
of a music teacher. =^)

I used to think I didn't like History, and that it was a weak subject for me. Non-sense. I've come to discover that history fascinates me. While I often found the first year of Music History to be boring, the second year was much more interesting. I also had a different teacher. He still lectured from notes based on the book, but he had a way of making it interesting by bringing it to life.

I enjoy watching the History channel (when they're not running sensationalist documentaries). For example, I loved watching, "America: The Story of Us". Why? Because they brought US History to life. It was dramatic. It was compelling. While I had already previously learned most of what they covered, now it was being put into context by telling the story of individuals, their struggles, and their triumphs, which ultimately were part of the nation's greater struggles and triumphs. That's so much more exciting than, "Chapter 16".

What many great teachers will say is that we have the power to influence them. Great teachers can make students care. They can make the material interesting. They can make class enjoyable rather than boring, or uncomfortable. They can structure their instruction to cater to all learning styles and intelligences. And so on.

While a school cannot control the environment in which it is founded, many believe it has the power to influence its surrounding community. One philosophy of learning says that to make the material relevant to students, the knowledge should be used in the context of carrying out projects that improve a student's surroundings, whether the project is focused on improving the school or the community.

And we know all of this is true. We know that the teacher makes a huge difference in the success of a student. Not only are studies showing this, but we know this from our own experiences. Tim Lautzenheiser, in his clinics, always has people close their eyes and envision the teacher that made a huge difference in their life, then reminds them that someday one of their students will be asked to do the same thing, and it will be their face the student sees.

So while students can choose to be good or not to care, ultimately we can also say that a master teacher can change that student's attitude using a slew of approaches. Ultimately, teachers are responsible.

But wait, even master teachers can't seem to get every student on board. So who is really ultimately responsible?

Choose Possibility!

Honestly, I don't think the philosophical point is what really matters. What really matters is how we, as teachers, perceive it to fit our own purposes. Our goal should always be to aim to be the best teacher we can be, to make the biggest positive impact on our students that we can with the time that we have with them.

Ultimately, you can't logically argue one point over the other. They're both technically correct, and impossible to prove wrong. This is where our friend Ben Zander comes in.

Ben Zander, conductor of the
Boston Philharmonic and co-author
of "The Art of Possibility".

Ben Zander co-authored the book "The Art of Possibility" with his wife, in which they outline 12 practices to change how you see the world around you, and operate within in. They argue a couple of interesting points that I think we can all agree with.

"It's all invented."

This is simply another way of saying that everything is what you make of it. And we can all agree with that. Different people live in different worlds, based on what they believe and how they interpret the world around them, and the actions of the people that inhabit it. Some people choose to believe that the teacher is ultimately responsible for learning, while others choose to believe it's the student. And technically they're both right!

But here's the kicker. It is a choice. You choose how to perceive the world around you. And with that in mind...

"Choose the option that creates possibilities."

If the teacher decides that ultimately it's the student who is responsible for their own outcomes, then where does that leave the teacher? The teacher, with that view point, has no power to influence the learning outcomes of their students. The students will either succeed or fail, to varying degrees, based on their own motivation (or lack thereof) to succeed. There is nothing the teacher can do about it.

Is that really what you want to believe as you go about your day?

On the other hand, if you believe that the teacher is responsible, suddenly you accept full responsibility for everything that happens in your classes. If a student doesn't get it, it's not their fault, it's the fault of your instruction. If your instruction is working for most students, but not other students, then it means (if you want them all to be successful) you can look for ways to improve your instruction to cater to different learning styles and abilities. The important thing is this...

Suddenly, by choosing this view point, you have opened up possibilities. Now, where as before you were helpless, you now have options. You can work at it until you hopefully find something that works.

That's no garuantee that you'll get every student. Individuals are different enough that we may never succeed in doing this. But I'll also say this - every master teacher I know chooses this perspective. They choose to believe that they are accountable for all the outcomes, good and bad. They don't necessarily lament the bad outcomes, but they choose to use it as feedback of their instructional methods, and then look for ways to improve their methods so that they reach the students they might have missed before. Or at least improve the outcomes in some way.

They're always looking for ways to improve. And they're already the best!

So if you happen to be of the camp that says that students are ultimately responsible, I implore you to choose a different view point. Choose the view point that creates possibilities, that gives you options, that gives you a path to make a difference. While this may not be a prerequisite for becoming a good teacher, it seems to me that it's a prerequisite for becoming a great teacher.

Musically yours,
Mr. Cooper

Ben Zander on Music and Passion

Hello again! 

On weekends I occasionally like to pass the time by surfing for cool, music related videos. Some are simply of great performances, while others are more inspirational. I've gathered quite a collection of them, and while I've always eagerly shared them with my friends over facebook, I wasn't quite thoughtful enough to share them on the blog, which after all is also a journal for my musical thoughts and ideas. My friend, John Benton over at Music Dreams does something like this, except that he posts mostly education and music related videos that he finds on TED.com.As a reader of his, I appreciate him finding those for me. I don't know why it took me so long to wise up and do this at my blog as well.

Anyway, speaking of TED, this first video is from their website. It is of one of my personal heroes, Benjamin Zander. In less than 20 minutes he explains the basics of understanding Classical Music to an audience full of non-musicians, and spreads his passion for Classical Music. I love this video, and if you haven't watched it, I can assure you that you'll love it, too. Enjoy!

Musically yours,

Mr. Cooper

A Breakthrough on Friday

Friday was one of those days where my excitement level shot through the roof. In a private lesson with a student I helped her achieve not only a major breakthrough in her playing, but perhaps personally as well! It was one of those eye opening experiences where you are reminded of the power music has to positively change lives.

We'll say her name is Susie. But I'm getting ahead of myself just a little bit.

As mentioned in a previous entry, I've been taking the time to pull about a student a day from the full band rehearsals at the camp I'm working for private lessons. I started with the weakest students and gradually worked my way up. Most of what I dealt with were theory things: note names, understanding key signatures, chromatic finger pattern, figuring out fingerings, etc. etc. The last couple of days I worked with stronger students. When the director decided that he might give the band Friday off until picture and performance time, I realized I might not get to work with a couple of the students who had asked for help. On Wednesday I managed to get through two students, but that still left one who really wanted a lesson, and two tubists who were improving in their sound production through our sectional time, but still needed additional help in that regard. I wanted to pull at least two of them on Thursday, but decided since it was their last rehearsal before Friday's concert that they needed to be in the band. Instead I offered each of them a time to meet me on Friday, since there were no rehearsals. All three students eagerly agreed to show up.

Susie, a trombonist, was the first, and as it turns out, the only one I worked with Friday.

On her music bio she basically wrote that she wanted help with everything. Rather than a simple line, it was a paragraph of bullets. The thing is, she was one of the strongest brass players. She had good playing technique for a freshman. But she was also very hard on herself, which I later explained to her is both good and bad. Good that she can recognize and wants to fix what isn't going well, but bad because she wasn't giving herself credit for good things she was doing.

I then discovered that she wasn't even hearing the good things!

She confirmed my suspicion that she suffers from low self esteem, which carries into her perception of her playing, despite making the All-Region Band twice. I knew that to help her have a breakthrough in her playing, I also had to start planting seeds for her confidence and a better self-image.

Since we had done enough breathing in sectionals and had so many things to cover, we went straight to long tones and a discussion about warming up. She was blown away by this information because their previous teacher never really discussed what to do when warming up, and had never given them warm up exercises for individual use. She said she never really knew what to do when practicing. So I gave her the elements of a very, very basic warm up. Stretching, breathing, buzzing (we did a couple of exercises there), long tones, lip flexibility (which I pointed out was part of her band warm up), articulation and scales. I got her to a point where she was playing with a great sound on her long tones... but she couldn't recognize it!

Remember when I previously discussed how the entire brass section seemed unable to get excited about doing something great? It was like that, but worse. Even when she did something great, all she could hear was the one note she missed, or the hardly noticeable wavering of pitch on the last note, etc. etc. She couldn't recognize the tremendous progress!

Of course I asked her time and again, "Yes, there was that, but don't you think it sounded a lot better that time?" She often agreed, though timidly, and there were times when I didn't ask, but said, "Wow, that sounded so much better!" To which she often responded, "It did?"

So we had a talk. I talked to her about how the brain is hard wired for success, whether you succeed in playing poorly or playing well, doing something or failing at something, if you believe either one, you will succeed in that outcome. I talked to her about rewording her internal dialog so that instead of saying things like, "That was really bad" she could say "That wasn't as good as I want it to be." or "I can make that better". I talked to her about recognizing and appreciating progress, that while you should never be content with where you're at, you should be proud of any progress that you've made, because after all there is no limit to how good we can make a piece of music.

But in spite of her progress, she still didn't like her sound. I'd told her in the first week that she had a good sound, that trombones were supposed to sound that way, but it was as if she didn't believe me. So we went into the office and the director pulled up a video of Joe Alesi performing "Blue Bells of Scotland".

Given she wanted to discuss so much, I had scheduled her for an hour and a half. That ended up being a good decision.

So after she captured the actual timbre of trombone in her mind's ear, we went back to long tones. We also had to grease up her slide. It was sticking so bad that she couldn't play notes in time. Once that was fixed, she had less to feel bad about in terms of her playing. Okay, what else?

So she got to a point that she was feeling pretty good about her sound. She thought it could still be better, and I explained that she was right, but that it would take some time, with the promise that if she used long tones 4-5 times a week and pushed herself on the exercise, then her sound would continue to improve, and she would notice a major difference in the next couple of weeks and beyond. But we finally got to move on.

We did a very simple articulation exercise. I drew a diagram of what the tongue should be doing in the mouth, and we used quarter note wind patterns so she could practice a relaxed, light, but quick tongue action. She quickly caught on, and picked up her trombone and used a very nice, legato articulation. Then when I demanded she do it with the same sound she had on long tones, she did that as well. Articulations were another very frustrating point for her in her playing, and when she heard herself she finally felt a jolt of excitement!

My second student hadn't shown up yet, so I decided to apply these things to some of her music. She was game. So we pulled up her opening solo from the ballad. It's just three bars quoting the melody, but it was perfect for the exercise.

So I just let her have at it. Her inhalation was good, and I only had to occasionally remind her to keep her shoulders relaxed. Her articulations were awesome. But her sound was not (though better than usual). So we went to the part of the long tones that goes through that range of the instrument to recapture that sound. She played the solo again, this time significantly improved. But she wasn't happy! Too many small mistakes, not enough progress. Which was fine by me once she at least recognized the better sound. From there I had her play, buzz, and play again. Much better (of course). She noticed that whenever I had the brass section play, buzz, and play, it always sounded a lot better, so I explained why that happens, and that she should always feel free to use that trick.

There were still a couple of small issues left, but we eliminated those as well, and suddenly she sounded like an All-Area trombonist, if not something close to an All-Stater!

And this time, I didn't have to tell her how good she sounded.

Her face lit up, her eyes beamed, and her voice raised in pitch, in fact her entire body was bouncing in excitement! She was going giddily on and on about how much better she sounded and how happy she was. When she later went to put her instrument away, she practically hopped over to her case! It took two hours (though admittedly at a somewhat casual pace), but the transformation and the break through was totally worth it. In two weeks I had never seen more than a forced grin from her, and a single genuine grin from her boyfriend when I helped him with his solo the day before. Now, finally, she was filled with musical excitement and accomplishment!

If I could change one thing about that lesson, I would've liked to have done the same work in probably half the time. But it really wasn't because I didn't know what to do to help her. I made one right step after another. It was in part because of our attitude talk, in part because I was explaining too thoroughly, perhaps, in part because of the Joe Alesi video, and in part because of the time she took to grease her slide. But all in all, I don't regret the lesson. Guiding her through that playing transformation and hopefully a small personal transformation was indeed well worth the time and effort. My pacing could've been better. It's always worse in lessons than in ensemble rehearsals because I want to take some time to explain what's going on so that their understanding reinforces their concept of how it's physically done. But anyway...

THIS is the power of music education. I later reminded myself that band programs have the power to achieve that on a large scale, and then let myself dwell in the possibilities.

Through our programs, we have the power to transform lives.

We can create a safe and supportive atmosphere in which individual students with low self-esteem eventually feel comfortable enough to come out of their shell, be themselves, and open up to fellow students about the issues they're going through at home or otherwise.

We can use music to help them feel a high level of achievement. This is something they can become good at, and be proud of, and feel good about. The feeling of reward that comes from hard work paying off through inspired musical performances and thrilled audiences.

We can also use music and the mission of music as a whole to make them feel like they're part of something greater than themselves. To give them a sense of purpose. We're not just playing music for ratings or trophies. We're thrilling audiences, but more than that, we're delivering the deep personal messages of the composers and of the cultures/people from which the music originates. In this way, we can also challenge them intellectually to grow.

And we can take the opportunity from time to time to spread attitude concepts about self-esteem, time management, and the slew of other things that will help them grow into happy, healthy human beings.

That is the real mission. To use the power of music to change lives. We have the chance to not only change their lives, but perhaps if our performances are exciting enough, to perhaps get a few more audience members interested in the genre as well. After all, as Benjamin Zander argues, Classical music is for everybody.

So am I on the right track, or just crazy? I know we can't save them all. We can't radically change everyone, but even a few would be remarkable, don't you think? And you can't tell me that if we're providing that kind of quality educational and musical experience mixed with a supportive atmosphere and a dash of life coaching, that we wouldn't have a significant positive impact. Feel free to leave your thoughts!

Thank you for reading and sharing this journey with me. Until next time, take care!

Musically yours,
Mr. Cooper

Looking in the Mirror

Monday's Brass rehearsal was rough. A group that had come to be pretty disciplined and was developing a great sound was, after two days, giving half the effort on everything from breathing to the warm up to, well, everything that happened during my hour and fifteen minutes with them. I went home and thought about it.

If I'm going to subscribe to the school of thought in which I take full responsibility for how my students are acting, then what was that rehearsal telling me?

That I had not given my best that day. Far from it. Although I'd walked out initially thinking, "Man, I really had to push them to get them to do anything, and it was still a mess," I came to realize that there was quite a bit I hadn't been doing myself. I'd made a few small excuses, but I decided to work around certain limitations and try to fix other elements that were holding me back.

For example, I didn't have scores for any of their music. I think I'd requested them, but amongst the chaos of my friend's first week, he wasn't able to do that. Having had scores for the music at the last camp I noticed how much easier it was to identify problems and communicate things quickly with the students (as a tech, I've never been provided scores until that point). So I asked my friend again, and also told the other techs I was hoping he could get them for me. Because they were so considerate, when I arrived the next day they'd taken the liberty to copy the scores for me during the marching fundamentals session.

Next on my list was to write out the objectives. Don't misunderstand, I always thought through what we were going to do, but for whatever reason I didn't write them out. I did at Junction, though not always on paper (only when I had ideas right before bed that I didn't want to forget). But I was at the band hall early each day, and having already thought through things, I wrote out the objectives on the white board for all students to see, knowing that was a good practice. The details were marked in my scores, but regardless, not having to work from memory does help save time, even once you've established a routine.

I didn't have a white board, or any board in my rehearsal space, and apparently there wasn't one on wheels they could transport there. So I had not physically written out the objectives. Bad! I didn't know if it would help the group's work ethic (since they couldn't see the list), but I wrote it out anyway, knowing it would help me, and knowing I could always verbally run down the list of what we needed to get done at the start of rehearsal. Hopefully that would help their motivation some.

And of course, Tuesday's rehearsal was remarkably better, and perhaps the best of the camp to that point. Wednesday I realized another error - not reminding them to bring pencils, and not having had them mark their music after fixing things. So I reminded them, and they all brought pencils. I made sure we used them, if not over used them (is that possible), and of course, Wednesday's rehearsal was even more productive.

We were accomplishing things in some respects. Their ensemble sound was improving every day. They were grasping many of the concepts of playing together as a group. They were retaining more (though not all) of what we'd fixed. But something crucial was wrong.

One of the strange things about this group of students (at least the Brass) is that whenever they would do something really well, they would often be expressionless, except perhaps one or two trumpet players. Last blog I discussed the idea (originally presented to me by Peter Boonshaft) of making sure each rehearsal had at least one "pearl", something, anything, that sounded really great so they could feel accomplished and musically excited. Well, we had been doing that multiple times (at least 2-3) each rehearsal. But no reaction! Even with my genuine responses to it. It was so strange! Everyone else seemed to notice their improvement day after day, and I had told them something to the effect of, "You guys are sounding better every day" every day! So what was it? Why weren't they getting excited when they played well?

Because then my other concern was that it was contributing to their lack of retention. When you get excited about doing something well, you become intrinsically motivated to continue doing it that well, and when you don't, you feel a sense of loss that motivates you to recapture it. So why wasn't that taking place?

Again, on Wednesday night, I looked in the mirror.

They had come a long way. They rehearsed with great etiquette, especially considering they weren't used to having structured rules about how to rehearse. I moved quickly and efficiently with rare exceptions. What was it? Was it just them? Was their self-esteem as players just not very high? What?? And the reminder came:

"You can and should take full responsibility for the good and bad things that are happening in rehearsal."

I remembered the Tim Lautzenheiser clinic I attended at TMEA. He gave this awesome demonstration in which a line of people were each holding cards in front of their foreheads. They didn't know what they said. Another row of people were tasked with communicating to each person, in one instant of non-verbal communication, what that card said. Everyone either figured out what their card said, or came very close. The lesson was that we all wear a card on our head, and our students react to that. If we're enthusiastic, they will be, too. Etc.

So what card had I been wearing? As Ben Zander says, "Who are you being that their eyes are not shining?"

I thought about it. Did I smile at them? Sure I did, when they did something well. Was I being respectful? Absolutely, and so were they. Was I enthusiastic?

Well....?

Kind of. But not nearly enthusiastic enough. I wasn't smiling nearly enough. I was energetic, but often failed to relieve the tension that comes with focused work, especially for long periods of time. So I gave myself another goal for Thursday's rehearsal.

I was going to show up with a different mood. I was always excited on some level about rehearsals, but I wasn't excited enough, because I wasn't showing it enough. I was going to smile more - a lot, in fact. I was going to compliment them more, even if they only did one thing right among a pile of problems. A lesson with one of the trombone players that day revealed that he had low self-esteem, even in regards to his playing, and even though he is the best in the section and, in my eyes, has been great both weeks. When I told him he was sounding great, and I was smiling and excited about his playing, he grinned for the first time all camp. How wide spread was this? And when I thought about the individual students, there were only a few I could safely rule out from this possibility. So let's tell them the problems, sure, but at the same time I definitely needed to stroke their egos a bit. Much more than I had been trying to.

So I did all of these things today. I even managed to use a couple of humorous analogies. Of course you would expect them to do their best playing further into the camp, but except for some range issues the 1st trumpets were struggling with on featured melodies, they were sounding much better than anticipated. We had what was easily the most productive brass rehearsal of the two weeks. And while their enthusiasm and excitement over things played well didn't match mine, there was a significant difference. The further into that time we got, the better their responses were.

Had I started this on Monday, who knows where they would've been at this point? But then, the past is merely data to be learned from.

The important thing is that they were starting to make good music, they were retaining better, they were starting to get excited. The retention and excitement things, while not a total turn around, were noticeably improved over previous rehearsals. So then, it worked! After all, Rome wasn't built in a day!

The real shame is that I didn't get back on that track until today. I felt like I was on a roll after the last camp, and granted, those kids had incredible attitudes. But still, I allowed myself to react to the chaos of the first day. I allowed myself to react to my friend's first day jitters, to the total lack of rehearsal etiquette by the band, to the circumstance that I didn't have scores to study, or a white board to use, etc. etc. Let the record show that when this camp started, there were plenty of obstacles, both enormous and small.

Instead of allowing myself to react negatively to that, I should have just done what was necessary to put those things to rest so that I would be free to be my best. And don't get me wrong, I was still putting in effort. Actually, between sectionals and my lessons with a kid per day, they were making pretty good progress in a lot of areas each day. I was a good teacher. But I wasn't great, and had I responded differently to everything that happened at the start of the camp, I would've been great the entire two weeks.

So all I had to do was look in the mirror and really think about who I was being during rehearsal, and in preparation for rehearsals.

I've always bought into the idea that, as a leader, the organization is truly a reflection of you. Followers are rarely ever as committed to the vision as you are, but that's okay. You don't let them know that you expect that, but you do for your own sanity. Granted, you don't take credit for things, and you accept compliments graciously and humbly, but in private you accept responsibility for everything good and bad that is going on in the organization from the top down, pat yourself on the back for the good things, and problem solve the bad things.

Having seen that principle in action (both from leadership positions and as an observer), it's only natural that I would buy into the idea that how a band rehearses and performs is a reflection of who you're being, and that you should take full accountability for the good and bad things.

Again, I'm kicking myself in the butt for not putting my feet to the fire sooner just because they were making as much progress as they were from day to day. But eventually my idealism came around, and to me, the entire experience merely reaffirms this ideology.

Problems with the organization? Problems with rehearsals? Chances are the answers to at least most of those problems are staring at you in the mirror. That's what I've learned more than anything else in the past two weeks.

Well, that and some trumpet fingerings!

Thank you for reading! If you have any stories about similar experiences, or would like to tell me how wrong I am and why, then (as long as you're civil) please leave a comment! And until next time, take care!

Musically yours,
Mr. Cooper

Using Compassion Instead of Fear

Sometimes I'm a little afraid to blog about stuff like this, because I don't know how experienced music teachers will respond to it. Please understand, always, that in my blogs I'm not trying to bash anyone for a particular method they use. However, I am trying to explore the true effectiveness of various methods. As Peter Boonshaft would say, the past is merely data to be learned from. If I disagree with a method you use, that doesn't mean I hold it against you, and I hope you won't hold my disagreement against me on a personal level! I just thought I might need to throw that disclaimer out there. After all, I'm still in college and have very little experience, and certainly none in the day to day grind of teaching music. However, I am very interested in what methods are not only effective for achieving the end result, but also awaken the possibilities for music making in the individual student, and in the band as a whole. For example, you could teach a student to play something by rote, and get a Division I, but I think it fails to awaken the true musical possibilities that lie within the student! Anyway, onto the blog...

A couple of nights ago, Jenn and I watched Freedom Writers. The movie is based on a true story, which most educators are probably familiar with. A first year, idealistic English teacher takes a job at a school that has recently integrated a slew of low income students of various race. In two years (by the time the teacher starts) it has gone from being a top school to a war zone. The first year teacher initially thinks it’s exciting what the school is trying to accomplish, but quickly realizes the frustration of trying to reach students who seem uninterested in learning, and more interested in surviving the real world each day. Meanwhile, she can’t get any support from her administrators or fellow teachers, because they feel burned after their own battles to get the students to learn, and many blame the students for the school’s downfall. Books sit unused because those in charge are unwilling to give them to the students, since experience shows they will just destroy the books anyway.

Over time the teacher seeks to understand the daily lives of her students, and changes her initial curriculum and activities so that it can be more relevant to them. She picks up two part time jobs to buy supplies (like books and composition notebooks) for her class. They slowly open up to her and give her a chance. After learning about the holocaust, they start to treat each other differently. Eventually that room becomes the only place where they feel safe, and able to open up and be themselves. They start achieving and believing that they can make a difference. A lot of other things happen, too. It’s a great movie, but an even more incredible true story. This teacher sacrifices nearly everything for them, including her marriage after her husband leaves her. In the movie it’s because he seems jealous that she’s living her calling, and he’s not, but that it’s not due to neglect. Was that the real reason? Who knows, but it’s something I may touch on in a later blog.

Freedom Writers is also a book, a compilation of the student’s journal entries in which they vent about the struggles of everyday life. It deals with race wars, violence, sex, family issues, survival, but also hope, and tolerance. It has actually been banned at many schools for its content. This is really an amazing series of events, and it makes me remember something important about education.

Everyone has potential.

Most of these kids were involved in gangs, even though they couldn’t admit it in class. Most of these kids had lost at least one, often more close friends or family members to violence. Many of them had witnessed, or were directly involved in violence, including violent crimes and other crime. It’s easy to understand that if this is what their lives are about, that they wouldn’t be interested in learning, or that they would have difficulty understanding how any of the subjects would be relevant to them. And because of that, it’s also easy to understand why many teachers would view them as “bad kids”. How do you reach kids that aren’t interested in learning, anyway, especially when you’re competing with other things going on in their lives that are of that magnitude?

I honestly don’t know. One day I’m sure I’ll have to figure it out.

But what this teacher proved is that they were not bad kids at all. To get them interested in English, they needed literature that wasn’t comprised of the masterworks, necessarily, but of stories that they could easily relate to. She gave them journals with the expectation that they had to write every day, but they could write about whatever they wanted to. It wasn’t graded for grammar, and she promised not to read the entries unless they wanted her to. But the point is that they were writing! They came to appreciate these journals, and writing, as an outlet for their daily struggles. She then used a field trip to a holocaust museum and later reading the Diary of Ann Frank to teach them lessons in tolerance, and where the road of intolerance eventually leads. And she later empowered them to make a difference, both as individuals and as a class.

These weren’t bad kids. And their apathy towards learning was only made worse by teachers who they knew didn’t believe in them, and ultimately didn’t care.

Fortunately I haven’t had to work with students like this, but I have worked with students that some might consider “slow” or “behind the curve”. And I’ve already learned that these students can surprise you.

It reminds me of something Benjamin Zander says, that when you take responsibility for how your students are acting, then when they’re not interested in what’s going on you get to ask yourself a question,

“Who am I being that their eyes are not shining?”

When I arrived at the first summer camp I was teching, the director warned me of a student. “He’s a Hispanic kid, tuba player, and from what I was told he likes to joke around and talk during rehearsal. He can be disruptive. He’s one of the problem students in the band.” Neither of us had dealt with him directly.

But it turns out that’s only who he was for the previous director.

This director's first language is Spanish. The fact that the two could converse in Spanish helped this student relate much easier. I was jealous and kicked myself for not paying more attention to my Spanish classes in high school. It makes me want to learn sometime in the future.

During the first day he actually was much better behaved and more motivated than the section leader! After all, he had a clean slate with us. He missed Tuesday morning for work. During a break he walked by the office and asked us a question, and we decided to chat with him. Turns out that his work involved waking up at 5 AM to go cut down logs with his dad and a couple of other guys and transport them to a factory. Hard work! I gave him props for that kind of hard work, and said, “You know, if you could bring that same kind of work ethic to the band, that would be a great example to set and a great way to lead.” He understood, and complied happily. And after more of the section leader screwing around, he asked us what was involved in challenging for that spot. He was a senior, and the section leader a freshman, so it then came out that the reason he wasn’t section leader is because he missed a marching contest due to something going on with his family at the time. But because he missed that performance he was disqualified from the office. The freshman was a slightly better player, granted, but didn't yet match this kid’s level of maturity and motivation.

(By the way, we quickly got the section leader to act according to our expectations, and did it without yelling or threatening, but that’s another story!)

If the previous director had shown compassion in this case, would the student have given him attitude problems in the Spring? I’m not bashing the previous director, by the way. While these students all shared a weakness in breaking down rhythms, they could also do a LOT of great things (like playing comfortably in more keys than most small school bands), and they showed up with a great attitude. But directors often are very harsh on students who miss performances... and typically with good reasons. The previous director surely was trying to impart a life lesson onto the student with this consequence, but in this case it seems to have backfired. Nobody is perfect.

We offered compassion for what happened, and lifted him up for his great work ethic and his leadership, even though he wasn’t an officer. All in addition to us previously giving him props for having a tough job and still being dedicated enough to show up to band after a hard day’s work, only to work hard with us the rest of the day. This motivated him even more to work harder for the band. What an incredible student!

So far this last week I’ve worked with two tubists at the current camp who might be considered by some as behind the curve. And in both cases they were timid, almost afraid that I was going to be ugly towards them for not having already known these basic, beginning band concepts. Things like note names, accidentals, key signatures, fingerings, etc. But I was compassionate, and explained that all I cared about was helping them to understand these things so that they could be on the same level as their band mates moving forward. Both of them were in high school, and ranked under a freshman tuba player who did understand it all. Turns out that was a good thing, too, because the freshman tubist discovered that band conflicted with agriculture, and decided he wanted to do that more. These guys don’t have him to lean on anymore (at least this year). I found them just in time! Where other teachers may have just frowned or even said ugly things about these kids for their lack of caring, or inability to learn, or whatever, I just saw possibilities. And trust me, they worked hard to get the concepts, but once they did, you saw the light bulbs go off, the smiles on their faces, the relief, the excitement. No, they weren’t incapable, they just needed a little more help. Even the student I helped who doubles as a member of the football team got excited once he understood how to read key signatures and figure out how to get from the Eb fingering to the E natural fingering. His previous teacher probably wasn’t one of those teachers who tries to rule through fear and intimidation (based on what I’ve heard), but you know you’ve met some of those teachers who, regardless of which school they subscribe to, think lesser of students who can’t play at the level they should be at by a given time.

Which reminds me there was another thought I was going to blog about in this post, but it really deserves it’s own post. The differences between the two schools of dealing with students. Compassion/Collaboration vs. the old school of Fear/Intimidation (made famous by William Rivelli and used by nearly every teacher I’ve had). I’ll discuss that more later.

But anyway, I just wanted to write about some of these recent experiences. I could write about more of these kinds of students. I meet them nearly every time I work with a group of students. The kids who you may think are here more for the social experience. The kids who don’t seem to care that much. The kids who just seem a little slow.

Chances are they’re not bad kids at all. Chances are they just need one of two things (or both). They might just need some one on one time to help them understand some fundamental concept they missed (even if they can’t afford lessons... it will be worth your time!). And if they don’t care, they probably just need a high quality music making experience. It doesn’t have to be a performance, or an end result. It can be what Peter Boonshaft calls a “pearl”. It’s one thing per rehearsal that you really work to perfect so that the kids can experience something truly amazing in band that day. A crescendo, perhaps, or a single chord played beautifully. When a kid is part of making something like that happen, when it happens, they feel it somewhere deep down. Remember that feeling? It’s that feeling you get when something sounds so amazing that you just get pumped, or otherwise filled with excitement. If a kid doesn’t care, it’s probably because they either haven’t had that experience, or they haven’t had it regularly, or have been too long without it.

If what I witnessed at the last camp is any indication, if you can deliver at least one pearl a day, even, they’ll be hooked. The first three days of that camp were not typically fun. We worked them really hard to get them caught up on their counting abilities, or at least to where they needed to be for their show music (which involved some of the most complex rhythms you’ll find in 4/4). But on Thursday they played beautifully on the “slow song” of their show, and every kid got excited. We knew they were hooked after that. But if there was any doubt, then when they created the wall of sound previously discussed on “Iron Man”, they were definitely hooked! From what I’ve heard, they’ve had something exciting like that happen nearly every day, even if it was just a really well done crescendo.

Some people think that guys like Ben Zander, Peter Boonshaft, or even Tim Lautzenheiser are just guys who run around making a living by making other people feel good about themselves, or by telling jokes that only we would get. Yes, I may be idealistic, and I’m sure that will be tested. I expect it to be tough (and luckily, I’m pretty tough myself). But actually, my youth and idealism has allowed me to, with relatively little fear, try out some of these things during the camp season. And guess what - I’m a believer.

Sometimes you have to be firm. I understand, and I agree. Hey, I’m a father, after all. But if a kid doesn’t know something, don’t blame the kid. Blame yourself or whoever was supposed to teach them. Don’t beat yourself up, and certainly don’t beat the kid up. Just try to get the kid to show up after school or during lunch for a bit so you can help them. Because they really just need your help.

Of course if you yell at a kid for being way behind, they’re going to feel bad about themselves. But most kids I’ve found aren’t motivated to act based on that. They just shut down and feel more worthless, and less motivated. I know that old school was used on most of us, and it can work when done properly. But what about when it doesn’t work? And what was the cost to the student, and/or to the trust/relationship you’ve established with that student? Try being compassionate instead.

By the way, this does not explain my thoughts about classroom management. Please don’t interpret that as such. I have other ideas about that, and am still developing some ideas on how I would handle it. So far I seem to be doing good things, but it will be more difficult once I am the teacher rather than a technician. Here I’m just referring to how you deal with students individually, whether it’s in front of the ensemble, or outside of class.

And help them to take part of a great music making experience. Part of why the kids at that last camp are hooked, and why their old director is now old news (even though they still love him), is because they have never sounded this good. This was a band that made it to the Area finals for the first time last year, but they’ve reached a new level in their music making ability. Of course they’re excited! Anytime a band does something well, the kids will be excited. Even if “well” just means “good compared to what they normally sound like”.

Anyway, I’ve rambled for quite long enough. If you have disagreements, or other thoughts, I’d love to discuss it! After all, the more I have to think about this stuff, and the more I can discuss it with other educators, or future educators before I’m actually employed next year, the better!

Thanks for reading, and until next time, take care!

Musically yours,
Mr. Cooper

PS. If you haven't watched Freedom Writers, and you're a teacher, please go rent it! Or at least learn about the true story and the current state of that movement by checking out the foundation's website: www.freedomwritersfoundation.org