Year 12 – Week 8: This King’s Speech – Part 8

This King’s Speech – Part 7

“You are a powerful speaker.”

For the past two months, this affirmation has been in mind. But, mostly, it’s unsettled like a leaf in the wind. At times, it brings me a feeling close to pride, and at other times, it makes me uncomfortable.

I’ve been teaching for sixteen years, and I had the perception for all of this time that I was an unclear speaker, and that my childhood speech impediment was still me with. Teaching students and talking to groups of teachers was a big part of my job that brought me anxiety and discomfort.

For years, before a class, or a meeting, I would push aside thoughts and doubts and go for it. Sometimes I would forget about any concerns I had about my speech in front of students and other faculty, and others times, I would feel that my speech was flawed.

Part of me knew that I was a good speaker.  I love reading books to students and telling them stories. Still, I’ve always doubted how effective I was in communicating verbally with other people.

The comment form the speech pathologist, “You are a powerful speaker” permitted me to be proud of my speech. Early in the school year, before teaching class, I let myself think of this affirmation. As a result, I let go of some doubt and came closer to fully enjoying speaking to my students. It’s one thing to be good at something and thinks you are bad, and it’s an entirely different thing to be good at something and accept that you are good at something. And I’m getting there.

I’m letting go more and more about concerns that my speech is not clear. I don’t feel myself avoiding words as much, and I enjoy taking the time to express things to my students. It almost feels like a dream being in the classroom now and letting myself feel and accept that I am good at speaking.

I feel like I can grow as a speaker, let my words come out more with less preparation, and participate without hesitation in conversation. I can be more of a speaker because I am more than I thought I was. I think about my students and those who don’t realize they are good at something. I hope that I can help them see themselves as being powerful and permit them to believe in themselves in a small way.

As I see myself better as a powerful speaker, I am becoming to understand better that I am a powerful teacher.

Parenthood: Week 446 – The Eve of Ethan's 4th Birthday

Do you work hard on something because you love it or do you grow to love something because you’ve work hard at it?

This question came to mind last night as I lay in bed with Ethan on his last night as a three-year-old. Diana was reading a book to Ollie so I took Ethan to the guest room to read to him. I told Ethan to get into the bed so that we could cuddle while I read to him. I watched his struggle to figure out how to climb up on the bed and carry the books he wanted to read at the same time. Eventually he threw the books onto the bed, grabbed a hold of the comforter and climbed up onto the bed.

Ethan cuddled close to me as I read to him. He had been wanting to cuddle for a good part of the evening. He’s a physical child who likes being near people. It he had his way he would be cuddling with someone most of the day. While we do cuddle him, we have our limits. Earlier, he cried and threw a tantrum when I wouldn’t carry him up the stairs and when we told him that we didn’t want to cuddle with him when watching television.

Ethan had what he wanted now. We were cuddling and I was reading a book he was really interested in. After we were done with the books, I asked him if he wanted to listen to a song as I cuddled him to bed. Ethan requested, “She Used To Be Mine,” and I played it on my phone and balanced it on the headboard above Ethan’s head.

 

As the song played and the voice of a woman coming to terms with the struggles in her life, I thought about all that I had been through with Ethan. I remembered the stress, and anxiety, around his disability. I thought about the therapy sessions that were difficult in-person that felt nigh-impossible when they were remotely. Then there were the nights. The years of Ethan waking up in the middle of the night, sleepless co-sleeping and the months of work sleep-training him to stay in his own bed.

I’ll never forget the nights sitting on the floor of his room as he stood in his crib screaming at me. I knew if I picked him up and carried him to my bed he would stop screaming, but I also knew for all of us it was best to let him scream and leave the room.

The typical tantrums of a toddler, the challenges of parenting more than one child at the same time, and the pandemic on top of the strength of Ethan personality, made being his parent very difficult at times. There have been times I’ve needed breaks from him, and there are times that I didn’t know what to do with him. However, through it all I have loved him every single day, and leaned into the work of being his parent.

It’s both. My love has made me determined to work for Ethan, and the hard work has been satisfying and help me bond closer to Ethan.

Sometimes life just slips in through a back door
And carves out a person
And makes you believe it's all true
And now I've got you.

Year 12 – Week 7: The Joy Of Teaching WIth Imperfections

The general approach that music teachers should take in preparing their lesson as if they are a performer. If they teach a song, they should know the lyrics by heart, if they teach a dance, they should be able to teach the choreography without reference, and if they are playing an instrument in class, it should be at a high level.

I’m not there right now.

After a year and a half of not teaching singing, my voice is not at its best, and my guitar playing is rusty.  Songs that I taught for years are taking an extra second to come back to since I didn’t teach many of them last year.

This is a feature of this school year that I’m okay with. It’s getting better. But it doesn’t help that I decided to add some things to my curriculum that I’m not very good at.

With the challenges of this school year, I decided that creating routines would be really good for my students. I wanted these routines to teach foundational skills and also help them bond.

The answer: solfège.

Solfège is a way of teaching music that attaches syllables to certain notes (e.g., Do, Re, Mi). This educational method teaches aural skills, notation, and sight-reading. It can be an empowering tool that can help people better understand and learn music.

I’ve never formally taught solfège. In the past, I’ve played some solfège games and introduced the syllables and hand signs through rounds, but I never systematically taught solfège. I’m not sure why after teaching for sixteen years, I felt a need to teach something new, something that I have not mastered and very little experience with as a teacher and a student. I do know feels right to try to teach it now, and I kind of enjoyed the challenge of doing something new.

Every day as part of the opening of my class, we work on tonal patterns using solfège. I don’t have these patterns memorized, and currently, there are two out of about sixteen that I have trouble singing in tune. When I first started the year, I would play the piano along to know what notes to sing. Now I only use the piano for the two patterns I still struggle with.

It’s going really well.  The students don’t complain or point it out when I make a mistake. They enjoy the routine, and I’m really excited about the musical growth I’ve seen.

It’s easy for teachers to fall into habits and routines, but it can be fun and rewarding for teachers to take a chance and teach something that they have not entirely mastered. I didn’t like this feeling when I was an inexperienced teacher, but doing something new is rewarding right now.

It’s humbling, and a great reminder that I am a learner and sometimes that teaching can be imperfect and effective.

Parenthood: Week 445 – Lucas Tang 10/18/21

Sometimes I wonder what Lucas is thinking.

A couple of months shy of two years old, he is in full toddler mode. He walks around the house freely and climbs all over the couches. Lucas hasn't reached the "jump off of things" stage, but he gets himself into plenty of trouble. For example, he climbs on our coffee table and onto chairs, reaching for things left on the kitchen table. He does understand to get down when we tell him to.  Lucas can pretty much run now, though he hasn't quite figured out what to do with his arms when he does run.

Lucas has mini-tantrums.

For example, when he climbs up on Ollie's chair, I will pick him up. Then, with my arms around his chest under his elbow, I can hold him away while his little legs kick and he squeals in protest. More often than not, he gets over this pretty quickly. There have been rough moments with him when the crying has continued, but usually, it's related to something like teething or a cold.

In the park, he will run happily around the playground. But, like most toddlers, he trips every so often. He stands up, looks at his hand, and tries to brush the dirt off of them most of the time. His little brow furrows when he tries to figure out what is on his hands. It's a very serious problem for him when this happens.

Lucas is doing more independent play at this stage than his brothers. Maybe it's because he has had to learn how to entertain himself. After all, he has the share the attention of Diana and me with his brothers. Or maybe it's just his personality. For example, he will bring me plastic bins of toys to open for him and books to read.  However, he doesn't insist I sit with him. When he asks me to read him a book, he happily will sit next to me. When I tell him that I can't read to him at a certain time, he usually walks away and looks at the book himself.

One of Lucas' new favorite games is chase-kiss. He will run around the couch, and I will catch up with him, and he will pause, then I kiss him on the forehead, and he starts running again, waiting for me to catch up so he can get another kiss. The sounds he makes, the grunts as he runs, and the giggles as I kiss him to fill the house with energy and positivity.

When Lucas is hungry, sometimes he goes up to the high chair and tries to climb up into it. Other times he goes into the pantry and sees what he can find. That's why I found a bag of almonds lying on the ground when I got home today. A couple of days ago, I heard a crunching sound, and I saw standing in the front of the television reaching into a family-sized box of cereal. This box goes up to his chin, and he can barely carry it. He has to put his whole arm into the box to retrieve cereal, and he calmly puts the cereal in his mouth. I was about to call him to tell him to stop, but I let it go.

It was just too cute.

Year 12 – Week 6: Responding To Sexism In The Classroom

Teachers can control what they bring into the classroom, but they can’t control what students bring. When children walk into a classroom, they bring the love of their families, memories of life outside the school, and their incredible potential for hope and kindness. They also bring their anxieties, fears, and words and phrases that dehumanize and oppress into the classroom.

“Your mom.”

When he whispered “your mom” into the boy next to him, both of them laughed to themselves. I had just commented how they need to stand up straight and keep their hands to themselves while they sing. I was initially puzzled because my comments were a nonsensical set-up for a “your mom” joke. However, I quickly remembered that as of 4th graders, and most likely when they heard a “your mom” joke, they probably didn’t understand it. However, they did know that they were was something funny to some people about this joke.

When I asked them directly, “why did you mention his mom?” they both looked at me like they had been caught doing something they knew they shouldn’t have done. I told them that jokes about people’s mothers are often degrading, sexist, and racist. Joking about others in a demeaning way has no place in the music classroom.


“Oh, I LOVE talking about Frozen.”

He was trying to figure out a way to get in the conversation. I was playing some music from Frozen 2, and a couple of students debated which Frozen film was better. Most of the class was engaged in this debate, but this one boy wasn’t until he yelled out.

He spoke in a high, sarcastic, mockingly feminine voice.  I responded, "What did you say what you said in a high voice? To me, it sounded like you were trying to sound like a girl? Are you saying that only girls like talking about Frozen?”

In his eyes and the way he squirmed in his chair, I could tell that he wasn’t sure how to answer my question. I explained how my sons like Frozen, and my brother and I have talked about these films and even mapped out a plot for the third film.

The boy was surprised to hear about the affirmation that boys do enjoy Frozen. He couldn’t explain to me why he had interrupted in that voice. I left our exchange stating, “be thoughtful about what it means when you use a feminine voice.  What you did sound mocking, and I know you don’t want to make the girls in the room feel less than.”


“She looks SO Old.”

I was so excited to teach my students more about Sarah Bareilles. I clearly remember the first time I heard “She Used To Be Mine.” It was a wonderful moment of musical discovery, and I wanted so much for my students to have a similar moment.

This is why I was straight-up annoyed when one of the students yelled out, “look at her wrinkles!!! She’s so old!!” in a disgusted and mocking tone.



I put my hand up, and she stopped speaking, immediately knowing that she had done something wrong. I took a deep breath, and then we talked about ageism.

I asked her and the class to look around the classroom. They are were all different heights with different faces and they were all the same age. We talked about how you can’t judge people based on their skin color, and you shouldn’t judge people and place value on others based on how old they think you look.

Then I told them the harsh reality that women in society are judged far more harshly for having wrinkles and looking older than men are. The room was quiet.  I was still annoyed that the moment of enjoying the wonder that is Sarah Bareilles had passed, but I felt satisfied knowing  that we took the moment to talk about the intersection of sexism and ageism.

Parenthood: Week 444 – Volunteering

I didn’t really think that much about the women in this safe house.

I knew they were victims of spousal abuse; I knew that they came there with their children and left their homes in ways that were closer to an escape than a move to a new residence.

One of the reasons I didn’t think a lot about the women is that when I volunteered at this place, I didn’t interact with them. My job as a volunteer was to help prepare dinner, do chores around the house, and most of all provide child care for the women who lived in the house while they had other obligations like therapy or work.

I needed to get volunteers hours in to make my transcript look better for college. I didn’t want to be stuck doing one thing, so I found this summer volunteer program through the park district. They had this packet, almost like a course catalog for college, that had all of these different volunteer opportunities, the dates and hours they would happen, and you would sign up for what sounded interesting. The only obligation was to do a certain number of minimum hours to be in this program.

I chose a variety of things that looked appealing. I spent an afternoon pulling ivy off of leaves, which was not fun. Then, there was the time I helped out at a music concert with a person who ended up becoming one of my best friends in high school. I’ll never forget the orange-poppy seed muffin we shared and sing “Faith” by George Michael to her. What a way to start a friendship. I also helped out with an art fair and worked on forest trails.

Then there was the safe house. It was run by two nuns, which to my surprise, were not wearing habits. There were happy to have us there but were very direct. A graduate student from the University of Washington helped run the house as well. The one rule they told us was not to tell the children that we would see them again. The nuns instructed not to say goodbye to them by saying, “see you later.” There was a good chance that if we came back, they would be in this place and that we weren’t helping these children by leading them on. Also, they told us not to promise these children anything.  With all that these children had gone through, they didn’t want these children to be let down by us.

There were projects and supplies set up for us in the backyard, where we spent most of the time with the children. We made type-dye shirts and played hide and seek. When they found out I had the time to pay attention to them, some of the children would never stop talking to me the entire time I was there, and others wouldn’t acknowledge I existed when I spoke to them.

I liked coming to this place, and I visited there seven or eight times over two summers. I knew about domestic violence, but I didn’t understand this issue like I do now and how incredibly challenging this is to deal with, and how much more we need to do as a society to address this issue. I sensed at the time that there was a more significant issue going on, and I didn’t think that this experience would affect me. But now, as parents and teacher, I see clearly that this experience with these children in this place has helped me understand what I can be and need to be for the young people in my life.

Recently,  I’ve been thinking about those women in that house. As I parent, I wonder if I had the strength to do as they did, I wonder about their journey, and I wonder what more I could have done for them and what I can do for parents right now with an abusive partner, struggling to keep themselves and their children safe.

Year 12 – Week 5: Where They Are At

As I watched the chaos of my 5th grader moving to retrieve a pencil, a worksheet, and a clipboard from the front of my classroom, I was baffled. What was going on? It was a mess.

Some students were up in the front of the room looking lost, other students had made it back to their chairs without the worksheet, and other students were taking far too long picking a pencil out of the pencil box. The fact that all of these pencils were brand new and the same made this delay seem even more ridiculous.

This had never happened before with any of my other 5th grader classes.

This year, talking about students as being “behind” and needing to “catch up” is unproductive and ridiculous. Standards for what measures students learning and success were flawed before the pandemic. Now that we are in the thick of the pandemic, calling students “behind” for not doing what students before the pandemic isn't helping build up out students.

At the same time, I fully understand that students have experienced an atypical school for the past two years and that there are things that they haven’t learned and skills they haven't developed.  Students mustn’t feel bad for not knowing things or now knowing how to do something because they are “behind.” It’s not their fault, and we as teachers need to be sensitive to this.

I expected that the students would have challenges singing. This has been true. They are less comfortable singing in a group, aren’t singing as loud, and are learning songs very slowly. I expected that dancing would need work. This has been true. Simple dance moves have been a challenge for the students, so we’ve had re-teach the basics of walking, patting, and clapping to the beat. Last year in music class, we couldn’t sing, and we couldn’t dance around the room. So, the fact that my students need time to develop these skills was perfectly reasonable.

There have been other ways that my students showed me that they need more support. After a school year where they rarely moved around their classroom, it shouldn’t be a surprise that they would need more explicit directions to gather their classroom materials. However, I didn’t see this coming.

Part of being a teacher this year is giving our students space to show us where they are and what they need. Not having a typical school year for two school years will manifest in ways that we expect and ways that will surprise us. The effects of the pandemic on our students will not be fully understood at least a decade from now.

We have to focus on where our students are, help them grow in meaningful ways, and show them a way forward with a supportive hand. Our students didn’t deserve the last two years of school, but they do deserve our best efforts to embrace and celebrate where they are in their lives and let go of where we think they should be.  Only then will be able to help our students focus on who they want to be, and help make this vision a reality.