Teaching

I can't really define what it's like to embark on teaching a class. From long experience, I know we're starting a journey through the unexpected, in spite of the best Unit Plans. Teacher and students are clumsy at first, then become coordinated in a kind of dance. Are you willing to learn this? Why learn that? Do I really enjoy teaching this or that?

I'm working with some beginning singers at Oakland Technical High School, in an after school chorus/voice class. We only meet once or twice a week to accommodate high schoolers' busy schedules. One of our projects is new this year: creating improvisatory soundscapes or mood pieces for the school's Advanced Drama production of "Dracula." Working with random vocal and non vocal sounds opens up an avant garde genre beyond music, forcing us to explore what our ears hear. It's a great activity for beginners because no one has to blend, read music, match pitches, or do anything except imagine a mood and make sounds to express that mood. No right or wrong, just freedom to take risks and invent.

My students came in a week ago saying they couldn't really sing, they had no prior training. We'll use repetition, applause for the slightest effort, exposure to new things, discovering what each person brings in, straightforward technique/training, tons of mistakes. Somewhere along the road each student's voice will open up in a new way and our group will thrill to the sound of beauty. But there won't be a map or a template. It will be a unique journey and I love it.

RIP

Rest in Peace, Ann Wood. My mom died this week. This was the first time in many years that I have looked at the obituary page of the newspaper. The passionate statements of loving relatives about a daughter, grandmother or father who also passed away this week were sad and comforting.

family

This week I am keeping vigil. My mother, who turns 95 in October, is fast asleep in a coma. In a society where dementia, Alzheimer's, old age and death are not familiar, my mom has blessed me with the chance to be close at this time in her life. We all will go through this transition, but I am ashamed to admit how unaware I have been of death as I bustled through my small daily routines. May we all discover what is truly important.

BackToSchool

"I've got 44 students in my period 5 class," says one high school teacher.

"Please be patient. We're taking a count, and sorting out class sizes," reads a message from the school administration.

"Why has my student been denied acceptance to the (name of great program)? Shouldn't priority be given to returning students over new students?" emails a worried parent.

School is back in session. The story isn't clear yet, but I wonder if some private school students have returned to public or charter schools due to the economy. Initial comments from the fray speak of overcrowding, canceled programs, and a little confusion.

Chaos is typical in public high schools the first few weeks of fall, as students are gradually assigned and re-assigned to classes. Getting the required credits to graduate is a complex business, and public school counselors are responsible for hundreds of students' schedules.

Yet as I walk through a few corridors and across a yard, I notice that except for a few lost freshmen, students seem happy and unperturbed. Developmentally appropriate behavior reigns, meaning adolescents are intensely interested in their peers. Hand holding, clusters of laughing teenagers, a few young men with skateboards, guitars or frisbees. What is not to like about high school, in spite of the fretting of adults?