The Curiosity of Children

curiosity

cc licensed photo by docmoreau

I love the natural curiosity of children.

Today, my nephew (who is 5 and in kindergarten) looked at his dad (my little brother), and asked him about a song they had heard this morning in church. He said, “Daddy… will you teach it to me?” He knew the words already, but he wanted to learn how to play the song on the piano.

Because this child has grown up in a very  musical family, he has been exposed to all types of music and instruments.  My brother sat at the piano, played the song for him and sang it with him, and then started to teach him the chords. His little hands are barely big enough to play the triads, but he did it. He played an e minor triad and an a minor triad in a little less than a few minutes.

The point of this blog post is not how brilliant my nephew is.  As I sat and listened to the two of them learning at the piano, his question resounded with me, and I knew I had to write about this.  “Daddy, will you teach it to me?”

How many times as teachers and/or parents  have we heard a child ask us to help him/her learn something?

  • Will you show me?
  • Will you read this with me?
  • Will you help me?

How many times have we been too busy to do just that? How many times have we said, “Not now. I’m busy,” or “We’re not on that part of the book yet. Please sit down and wait.”

I think about some of the things that happen in my music classroom, and I wonder… if I had pacing guides or rigid curriculum scripts,  would I have the freedom to stop what we’re doing and encourage that child’s natural curiosity?

Another interesting thought… if you answered “yes” to hearing children ask you those questions, my guess is that you are either a parent/relative of young children or a teacher of young children. I have a feeling that a lot of our older children have lost a sense of curiosity or have been discouraged from asking those types of questions.

Am I way off the mark here? If so, I apologize. But if I’m not… what can WE do as parents and educators to ensure that the natural curiosity of children of all ages is encouraged and cultivated?

Investing the Time

For the record, I’m a HUGE advocate of leveraging social media for professional development and making connections with other educators. The network that I’ve built over the last few years is so very important to me, both professionally and personally.

But the keyword in that last sentence is “BUILT.” I’ve spent time building a network of people who are of value to me. A lot of time, actually.

I was thinking about something my friend, Jennifer Wagner tweeted out yesterday. By the way, I have never met Jen face-to-face. We have Skyped- a few years ago, she was gracious enough to call into a session I was facilitating about web tools- and we have conversed through Twitter and blog posts, but we have yet to meet in person. (Hope to change that status some day soon!) The point is… I still consider her a friend. She is helpful, responsive, sharing, and caring. This will be an important fact later in this post.

Yesterday, Jen said this in response to someone’s statement about the value of online communities:

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… and I remembered then that the network/community that I so value now has taken me nearly 2.5 years to purposefully cultivate. When we share our enthusiasm with others, do we mention the time investment? How many people do you think would be willing to wait that long for the pay off?

Granted, there are some great ways to get started building a network- many have paved the way and want to help make it easier. Some examples:

I built my network through reading blogs, following blog writers on Twitter, finding who they follow, and then stalking lurking through Twitter for a while until I found the people who became of value to me. When I was a kid, there was a commercial about shampoo where one person told two friends, and they told two friends, and they told two friends… I use that same philosophy with blogs and Twitter. When I first started following others on blogs and Twitter, I looked to see who my friends were following, and I started following them, too.

The most important thing you can remember about building a network… be patient. And then:

  • Involve yourself.
  • Complete your bio on your own blog and/or Twitter (this is a must! Most people I know don’t follow people with empty bio’s. We want to know who are you and what you think!)
  • Jump into conversations on Twitter.
  • Read and comment on blogs.
  • Know that you’re probably not going to get immediate responses from around the world until you’ve invested some time. A lot of people get disappointed because they don’t receive a lot of comments on their blog posts or responses on Twitter after they first start using those tools. It really does take some time.

And that’s okay… because you WILL find value in that network or community you’ve helped to build. Soon, those people whose names cross your Twitter stream or whose blog posts you’ve been reading… they become valued friends who will be glad to share, listen, and learn with you.

A Simple Request

Did you know that there are technically only two types of voices?

  • a child’s voice (aka unchanged)
  • a changed voice– subdivided into male and female changed voices

Voice changes start after puberty. If you’ve ever noticed the growth spurt of a child, you’ll understand why the voice change seems so awkward for most boys and more gradual for most girls. Want to do some reading? Try these links:

The point of this post actually has little to do with the physical aspects of the vocal folds and larynx, but more about perceptions of children’s voices. It’s more a request.

As an elementary teacher, I should be working with all unchanged voices. There are a few 5th graders who are on the cusp of the change, but still not quite there.

However, with boys (and even a few girls) from Kindergarten all the way through 5th grade, I struggle with perceptions of what boys and girls voices SHOULD be. In unchanged voices, THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE. If you listen to little boys and girls talk, there shouldn’t be much of a difference at all. If there is, this is due to environmental conditioning. Boys tend to speak lower in their vocal range, because they want to sound like the males around them.

A 1st grade student told me, “I can’t sing as high as you because I have a man’s voice.”  There are boys in 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade that can sing with me in their higher ranges, but they always revert back to the absolute lowest part of their singing voices… and their speaking voices! They’re actually doing damage to their voices, because they insist in attempting to speak and sing lower than the natural range of their voices. By the way, I NEVER force my students to sing by themselves in front of the class. This is not really about fear of singing in front of their peers.

I’ve been frustrated, so I sat down with my male  students in each grade level and we just talked. I asked them,

“How many of you have ever been teased about sounding like a girl?”

I reassured them that they didn’t have to raise their hands, but most of them did. I reminded them that there is no such thing as a boy’s voice or a girl’s voice in unchanged voices. They know this. We talk about it all the time… but there is an unfortunate expectation of our boys to sound like boys… or to be more ‘manly.’  This expectation is affecting children as young as 4 and 5 years old! Have you ever heard a Kindergarten student trying to sing like a man?

So, here’s my request:

Could we PLEASE stop insisting our boys act like boys and girls act like girls with antiquated stereotypes of what boys should be and what girls should be?

Could we PLEASE stop insulting boys by calling them girls?*

Could we allow little boys and girls to be just that? Little boys and girls? Let them play, let them explore, let them discover… without the pressure of living up to the hopes and dreams of the adults in their lives?

Maybe I’m asking too much, and obviously, this hits me where I live as a vocal music teacher… but I hope you can see where this leads.  Boys who are too “girly” (there’s that insane insult again) are bullied. Girls who don’t act like girls (whatever that’s supposed to mean) are ostracized.  They don’t grow out of these criticisms when they hit puberty. Those things stick with kids for a long time. It’s about time adults learned that the little things do count with kids.

[end rant]

*I played softball as a kid and loved it. I was determined never to “throw like a girl,” because that’s what I was told by an adult in my life. As an adult, I watched two of my daughters play softball.  At one game, I witnessed one of them make a rocket-laser arm throw from 3rd base to 1st, and the subsequent look of pain by her teammate on 1st base… I proudly said, “Now THAT’S how to throw like a girl!”

Be The Change

I saw someone tweet this quote earlier this evening. It was attributed it to Marala Scott:

“May you realize the power you have over your own life and make changes with that in mind.”

As I sat around thinking about what kind of post to write for today, I kept thinking of the charge Tom Whitby called for in his post, A Modest Blog Proposal:

“Teachers often offer positive education reform suggestions with less of an audience than popular media… My suggestion is to have as many educational bloggers who wish to participate, do a Post for positive educational reform on one day.”

Today is that day.

To be honest, I’ve written so much in the last few months about what I’ve heard from the media, Oprah, our President and his staff, I was afraid I wouldn’t have anything new to add. That’s when I remembered Scott’s quote about realizing the power that we each have.

We can be the change that we want to see in our schools.

We can start the conversations with our colleagues, the parents in our communities, and most importantly, with our students.

Too many of us feel powerless, or that there aren’t enough of us to make a dent in the noise that Oprah has made. Too many of us, myself included, get all riled up, write a blog post or ten, but stop short of moving forward in our own schools and communities. While I know I have made strides in my teaching since I first started, being the change in my classroom will only potentially affect the 430 kids I see now in my school, my district, my city, and my state. What about other children? How can I help them?

To be effective change agents, we must start in our own little worlds… but we need to move outside our comfort zones and speak out, too.

If you’re wondering where to start, there are well over 100 blog posts linked here – http://www.wallwisher.com/wall/REBELSbloggers – by educators who want the same kind of change you do. Follow these blog writers. Get involved. Talk to the people in your own school and community about how to move forward.

But most importantly, be the change you want to see. If you’re not making some changes yourself, why should anyone else?

An Apology to Former Students

Do you ever look back at some of your educational practices as a new teacher… and cringe? I do. I cringe a lot when I think back to those early years. I was ill-equipped.

When I started my first year as a teacher, I came to the school with a fairly new degree in music and a semester of substitute teaching under my belt. That was it. Not uncommon for many new teachers, though.failsmall

My first teaching assignment was at a 7-12 school in 1992. It was a much smaller school (350 students total in 7th through 12th grade) compared to the schools I had attended (520 students in my own graduating class). There was no curriculum at all for the classes I was to teach. First year teacher- had to write curriculum for 4 classes… “oh, and by the way, we need you to teach reading, too.” Also no curriculum, other than a textbook. [image credit: cc licensed image by griffithchris]

So, to say that the above was anything less than daunting would be a lie. However, I had a pretty good foundation of what kids should know and be able to do in music classes. That task was time-consuming, but a good experience. I felt pretty good about what I accomplished in this area.

Looking back, I am maybe a little proud of myself for being able to crank that out. But honestly, I’m a lot more embarrassed to share my ridiculous grading policies for the 7th and 8th grade classes I taught.

In general music, I met with 7th and 8th graders every day, all year, and was required to give them a percentage grade on their report card (no letter grades or rubric scores). There were days when we spent a lot of the class time singing, but we also had music theory, music history, American musical theater, improvisation, and music interpretation units (and probably quite a bit more that I’m not remembering right now).

And I assigned lots of homework. Why? Because I needed a body of work for grades. (ugh) That is the reason for homework, right?

The grades I recorded in my gradebook (which I made in Claris Works spreadsheets!) were averaged (ugh)  on homework grades, quiz grades, test grades, project grades, and participation points (a HUGE UGH!). Participation points were based on behavior. I gave every kid 100 participation points. The points were theirs to lose. If students didn’t do their homework, I gave them zeroes. If they turned in the homework or projects late, I took off points for late work.

As I mentioned at the beginning of the post… this is cringe-worthy.

Do you know how many 7th and 8th graders FAILED my classes? Many. Too many. And the issue is this: I don’t think a single one of those kids failed my class because they were unable to demonstrate their understanding of the concepts. They failed the classes because I was unable to see the difference between a behavior and an academic score.

I pleaded with my students to turn in their homework on time. I even took time out of a lesson to show them the math on the board. “A zero is devastating to your final grade!” I explained how I was helping them to learn to be responsible.

I’m cringing even as I type this.

Ken O’Connor wasn’t a blip on my radar back then, and I didn’t see his book, How to Grade for Learning, until long after I had left that classroom. As a staff developer a few years later, I was introduced to Ken O’Connor in person. I listened to him talk about the problem with grading behavior and academic progress within the same scores. He provided real examples of why averaging grades across time actually shows less progress. He discussed the need for allowing students to re-take tests to show that they have learned and made comparisons to driver’s license testing. O’Connor asked why we set arbitrary deadlines when we knew that not all kids learn at the same rate.

And… it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been that teacher who used grades as a punishment– a punishment to kids who didn’t care about their grades. Everything I had ever been taught about grading and assessing students was so off the mark. I wished right then and there that I could go back in time and start over again with my 7-12 students.

So this is my apology post, more than a decade too late, but here it is:

I was wrong, guys… and I’m truly sorry. You deserved to have a teacher who was more compassionate… a teacher who understood that maybe you really did lose your homework… a teacher who assigned homework only to those who really needed the practice… a teacher who reported your behavior separately from your academic progress. That wasn’t me back then, and I apologize.

If it’s any consolation at all, I am a huge advocate for children now when it comes to grading practices. In my own classroom, I report academic/skill achievement completely separately from behavior. I share my Ken O’Connor book with many people and then try to have open discussions with them to find grading practices that make sense to them. That doesn’t help the kids from my past, but I hope it helps kids now.

A World of Thanks to Teachers

Today is World Teachers Day. Have you thanked your favorite teacher today?

In my last post, I asked for names of teachers who make a difference. In this post I’m going to list them– as well as many of my own teachers– to celebrate their hard work and dedication to help kids learn.

I would like to thank the following people, some of whom are no longer with us, for what they taught me about life and learning:

Ward Carhart– my 6th grade classroom teacher. He was the tough teacher that everyone hoped they wouldn’t get. There was another teacher on his team who was seen as the fun guy. Not Mr. Carhart. He was gruff and he expected a lot out of his students. When the phone call came about a week before school started, I was a little sad that Mr. Carhart was on the other line. I wanted the more popular teacher… but during that school year, I knew that I was actually one of the lucky kids. We were challenged by Mr. Carhart. He expected us to do our best. A compliment from him really meant something. By the end of that school year, I was proud to tell everyone who my 6th grade teacher had been!

Barb Wagner – Barb was my AP American History teacher my junior year of high school and also my Civics teacher my senior year. She was the first teacher to ever give me a progress slip because I was NOT doing well in her class. In fact, everyone in our AP American History class received one. We were honor students. Every single one of us on National Honor Society. None of us had ever received a progress slip because of poor performance! Talk about total devastation! But… she made us realize that we were not giving our best. We were doing mediocre work. We were writing essays that were poor quality on our exams. She asked us to provide answers that made us analyze and critique, rather than to simply recall or apply. She wanted well-formed arguments that defended the points we should be making. No teacher had ever done this before. When I look back at my own teaching career, I have always tried to remember Ms. Wagner’s challenge to have high expectations for ourselves and our students.

Mike Janis, Dwayne Price, Ruth Stephenson, William A. Wyman– each of these teachers taught me that music is an essential part of life, that I have an obligation to share the talents I was given with others, and that only my best is good enough for my students and audiences. They also had high expectations and modeled how to learn about life through music. I learned more life lessons from these four individuals than I could possibly recount in a blog post.

While putting my list together… I was more concerned about the people I would leave out. I’ve had some amazing teachers! I’m luckier than most, because I am able to see some of these people quite regularly and tell them how grateful I am for them!

A few people left comments on my last post and specifically named teachers that they feel are amazing! Here’s that list:

Jen Wagner said:

A teacher that needs to be noticed is Brent Coleyhttp://mrcoley.com/
He is encouraging his students to think daily and is showcasing their work for others to see.
He is encouraging his students to succeed by creating studycasts for their review before tests.
He is encouraging his students to share what they have learned by creating coleycasts which then can be used by other classrooms around the world.
He is encouraging his parents/fellowteachers/peers to keep in touch with him by providing a variety of ways to contact him.
He is encouraging other teachers by sharing what is is doing and how to do it. Plus, shares his resources freely.
His #1 goal is the success of each and every one of his students……individually and as a class.
He is a teacher to be watched. He is a teacher to be emulated. He is a teacher we should clone.

Kelly Tenkely said:

So here are just a few of the amazing teachers I have had the pleasure of working with:
Kerry– currently battling breast cancer (again) after being cancer free for 21 years. She takes the time to know each of her students personally. When she talks to her students she immediately drops to their level. She celebrates everyone of their successes and cheers them on when they are stumbling. Everything she does with the students is a learning adventure. She doesn’t settle for status quo.
Matthew– constantly challenges his students thinking. He doesn’t let them get away with the easy one word answer. He makes them question their beliefs and think critically. He helps them break free of the robot mentality and causes them to be real thinkers.
Susan– A P.E. teacher who believes that every student can shine and should try their best regardless of their athletic ability. She helps those kids who aren’t athletic feel valuable and encourages them to try everything. She celebrates them right where they are.
Karen– a librarian with a real passion for helping students discover that they love reading. She spends hours with them to discover their passions and interests so she can recommend a book they will love.
Christa– an art teacher that helps every student see the world through the eyes of an artist. She breaks down art into manageable pieces so that every single student feels success.

Mary Anne said:

I am drawn immediately to Heather Foster…a 3rd grade teacher here in town…she is able to encourage, challenge and nurture students at all levels in her room. Students who have had her previous years will say, yeah, I am in the Foster Family, and that is how they feel. They are free to experiment, reach, think and learn in her room. Mistakes are avenues to continue the learning and are celebrated. Each student is really motivated to do his/her best…
As a parent, I want her cloned…I want each child to have a chance to have a teacher who loves her job and loves them. The investment in each child is obvious to everyone around.

Lissa Metzler said:

My first year teaching I was fortunate enough to work with Gwen Baccus who with over 30 years of experience could work wonders with first graders. She had them writing amazing sentences, learning fractions, and one student who entered and won a speech competition. I learned a lot from her and her students were better people for having her.


Thanks to all the great teachers out there! You ARE appreciated more than you know!

It’s My Pleasure

My parents brought me up to say “please” and “thank you” all the time. I insist on this with my own children as well as with my students. I also prefer to say “You’re welcome,” instead of “No problem.” But I really I love the French response, “avec plaisir,” which means “with pleasure.”

Have you ever been to Chick-Fil-A? When you thank any of their employees, they say, “It’s my pleasure.” Apparently at Chick-Fil-A University (or whatever they name their training program), all employees are instructed to respond in that manner. The first time I ever went to Chick-Fil-A, it was almost a shock to hear, because most people in customer service roles usually mumble “no problem,” if anything at all.

In a previous post, I Am A Teacher, I wrote about how happy teaching makes me, and how no other career opportunity has filled me with such satisfaction. This morning, while on front door duty, I held the door for all my students as they walked through. While saying good morning as they entered, one student thanked me for holding the door. I responded with, “It’s my pleasure.”

And then I thought… my whole job is “my pleasure!” I love teaching kids. I love watching their faces light up when they are excited about learning. Some days are just phenomenal. Some days are downright exhausting. But I wouldn’t teach if I didn’t love it… and because I love it, I want to be the best teacher I can be.

  • I don’t teach for summers off. My summers are filled with workshops, classes, and conferences… more learning to be a better teacher.
  • I don’t teach to show off how much I know. It’s not a power trip. I’m not the sage on the stage in my classroom. Every day, my kids teach me something new. We are learning together!
  • I teach because I love to learn and love to help others learn!

As we listen to the pundits rail on and on about bad teachers and burnt-out teachers, I think it’s important that we stand up and make a case for all the amazing teachers out there. My kids have had some truly incredible teachers. I have had inspirational teachers… those that have forced me to crawl out of my comfort level and really stretch myself… and I still have those teachers in the workshops and classes I continue to take.

So, are you listening Oprah? Bill Gates? Michelle Rhee? I believe there are more of us who are dedicated to our students than not. I believe there are circumstances in children’s lives that can’t be solved by threatening teachers to raise test scores. I believe that test scores show a microscopic view of what a child knows and is able to do ON THAT DAY AND THAT SPECIFIC TIME.

Want to improve education in the United States? Stop the incessant testing of our children. Who would want to go to school to be tested and tested? Empower teachers to help students learn and be creative… and think critically… and solve problems.

If you agree with anything in this post… and even if you don’t… please add a comment about a great teacher who is teaching right now. We need to fight the bad press with some good press.

Thanks for reading. To those parents who trust me with their children: thank you for your brilliant, creative, funny, and wonderful kids! It’s my pleasure to be their teacher.

Edit: P.S. My next post will list all the names from the comments, as well as your accolades!

The Art of the Opus

Opus 140309

Opus 140309*

As I sit back and read news about more and more schools considering cutting arts programs from schools while standardized testing gains in popularity and emphasis, I’m reminded of some scenes from the movie, Mr. Holland’s Opus. As a music teacher, everyone expected me to love this movie. To be honest, I thought it was good, but it wasn’t going to be the film I counted on to inspire me daily as a music educator. At the time of its release (1995), music education programs were getting “the axe” in a lot of states. This movie was supposed to help us advocate for our programs, but at the time, I didn’t really see the connections to my own school and program. Looking back… I don’t really know why, so I’ll blame it on the fact that I was young and just trying to survive in my first few years as a teacher.

One particular quote from that movie stuck with me through the years, though. As I now read through some of the arguments for testing, testing, and more testing, I’m really nervous again for arts education. Over and over again, I hear about how important it is for our students to excel in reading, math, and science. That usually means bad news for arts education in public schools. A friend of mine (not an educator) usually teases me when I start to rant about the necessity for arts education in the schools: “Oh, you’re just afraid you’ll be out of a job.” I can’t stress enough that I’m not nervous about my job. I’ve worked in other fields before and could easily go back. This is not about me. This is about our kids. This is about how important arts education is to these children as human beings.

And that’s when I return to the quote from the movie.

Gene Wolters, a school administrator played by William H. Macy, has informed Glenn Holland (Richard Dreyfus) that his program, as well as other arts education programs, has been cut. He won’t have a job the following year. When Holland argues that Wolters doesn’t care about the kids, Wolters replies:

“I care about these kids just as much as you do. And if I’m forced to choose between Mozart and reading and writing and long division, I choose long division.”

Holland responds:

“Well, I guess you can cut the arts as much as you want, Gene. Sooner or later, these kids aren’t going to have anything to read or write about.” [my emphasis]

The term, opus, is defined as a work or composition. Its Latin origins also refer to a great labor. I sometimes use the definition of a “labor of love.” For Glenn Holland’s character, it was the legacy he left to his students through music.

What will your opus be?

Or better yet… will each of your students have the ability to create their own opus? How will you know? I’m pretty certain you won’t find that task on any standardized test.

*cc licensed photo by Dennis AB

Mostly Cheers

I love my students. Every day, someone says something so funny or sweet, and I know my face is beaming with pride… I have the privilege of teaching and learning with these kids! Sometimes, their quotes are so hilarious (most of the time, unintentionally so), that I think I should start a blog just to keep them for posterity. My friend, McTeach, aka Karen McMillan, did exactly that- check out her Quotes from Middle School blog!

There was one moment today, however, when I felt so perfectly awful

I made a kindergartner cry.

I KNOW. What a horrible teacher!

Here was this sweet little boy, with his spiky blond hair, angelic little face, dressed like he just stepped out of a Gap Kids commercial. The girl who was sitting in front of him in music class today kept putting her arms up, and he couldn’t see. So, he pushed her arms down so he could see. I quietly reminded him that we never push someone’s arms down, and would he next time please ask quietly? “Do you think you could apologize to your friend for pushing her arms down?”

I didn’t yell at him. I didn’t use “THE LOOK” that I reserve for some of my 5th graders (yes, it works). I even smiled when I said it! Honest! But then… there it was. The quivering lower lip. And pretty soon… big, fat tears rolling down his face. I’m trying to think if there’s a worse feeling as a teacher than seeing a child cry. Nope. Can’t think of one right now. Luckily, the little girl turned around, told him that she forgave him, gave him a hug and said, “It’s alright. We’re friends.” I love kindergarten. 🙂

After class was over, I spoke with him to make sure he knew that he wasn’t in trouble and that I couldn’t wait to see him again in music class. He hugged me. Whew!

TV Guide used to have this section called Cheers & Jeers. It still might… I haven’t looked at a TV Guide since cable came to town about a million years ago. When thinking about this post, the first thing that came to mind was that Cheers & Jeers section. My little kindergarten friend crying– that part of my day deserved a Jeer.

But since I can’t end on an sad note, I’ll leave you with a few Cheers.

We’ve been talking about The Star-Spangled Banner this week. September 14 is the anniversary of Francis Scott Key penning the poem that would later become the national anthem for the United States. Here’s how one class went today:

Me: There was a special birthday yesterday, but it’s not the birthday of a PERSON.

Student: Was it YOUR birthday?!?!?

Me: What? I’m not a person? Am I a robot? [insert “Mrs. Baldwin is a music-teacher-robot” voice here.]

Me: It’s the birthday of our national anthem. It was written on September 14, 1814!

Another Student: Were you there?

Me: Do I look like I’m 196 years old?

Another Student: No, you look like you’re 27.

Me: You are my favorite kid in the whole wide world.

The End… Cheers!