Reflection is probably the most important thing about continuing to grow as a teacher. It's a difficult concept, because people hate critiquing themselves. It's hard and time consuming to sit down and actively think about the things that you've done, their effectiveness, and their value. I think new teachers would have an especially hard time with the concept. I know when I'm leading a sectional or a rehearsal, I'm so nervous that I am completely focused on what I'm doing and pay very little attention to how it is received. I have the luxury of working with my peers right now, who are pretty attentive, serious musicians, but high school kids aren't going to pay nearly as much attention.
Reflection is at the heart of the teaching process because it is just that: a process. Teachers who stay stagnant, keep doing the same thing day in and day out without any thoughtful reflection on their actions won't become a better teacher. In fact, they'll regress in their teaching, because their students will become less receptive to their same-old, same-old as the school year progresses. Kids will get bored. Reflection doesn't have to be an individual critique. It could be a group process, like attending a professional conference to get new ideas about teaching, or actively participating in staff meetings to figure out what's working and what isn't.
I tend to only reflect when things are going really really badly...that's not a good habit to be in. I journal before bed when I've had a bad day. Plenty of good things happen in my life, but if you were to read my journals, you'd think I'd led the crappiest, most depressing life in history. I also reflect at church...God tends to bring out the best in me. :) For me, it's a very personal thing. I like it to be quiet, and I need to be focused. I always feel a ton better after I reflect on things, though.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Friday, October 1, 2010
Dispositional Blog #4: Passion
First, a random thought. If I'm going to be a teacher, I need to learn to get my butt out of bed in the morning! My alarm went off an hour and a half ago so I could finish my homework and clean my room before I left for the weekend, and here it is, 8:00, and I'm still laying in bed. Just started the homework. Room probably won't get cleaned. Bah. I like sleep a little too much some days.
ANYWAYS...
Passion is an interesting concept. I think it manifests itself differently for musicians than any other discipline. I don't think I've ever heard of a really good math problem or chemistry experiment making anyone cry...When I listen to good music, my tear ducts are directly connected to my ears. It's slightly annoying sometimes. I don't mean that crying is the only way to experience a passionate encounter with music. I just think that without some degree of emotional connection to the piece, you can't really be passionate about what you're singing or playing.
There are many things about my high school choir director that I objected to, and we had the kind of relationship where I could openly question those things. These differences of opinion, shall we say, have led to some pretty interesting discussions. One of the biggest things I'm still wrestling with as a future teacher is the role that competition should play in music. Sometimes in high school, I felt as though my fellow choristers were fueled more by passion for competition than passion for the music, and as someone who felt very passionate about just the notes on the page, this was sometimes frustrating. People were dead silent in show choir rehearsal, when there was a big shiny trophy at the end of the tunnel, but in concert choir they'd sit in the back of the room and chat when they were supposed to be singing.
Then Mr. Woodin would yell. Or cry. When people were being stupid, he would get really frustrated and give a big speech about how much he loved music and teaching and how we were taking that time away from him. As a freshman it made you feel bad. As a senior, however, you kind of started to roll your eyes and block it out. I feel bad saying that now, because I know exactly where he was coming from.
I think the thing about Mr. Woodin was that he was passionate about both music and competition. There's something buried in your genetics that unfolds into a passion for music...it can be nurtured, but you're born with it. Competition, however, is something that our society brings into everyone's lives. I don't think a single person could say "I hate winning." Plenty of people can say "I hate singing." The amazing thing about Mr. Woodin was that he could combine the two passions of music and competition to create an incredible final product. I still question, and will for a very long time, whether his proportions were exactly right, but I know there was no lack of passion in his teaching.
ANYWAYS...
Passion is an interesting concept. I think it manifests itself differently for musicians than any other discipline. I don't think I've ever heard of a really good math problem or chemistry experiment making anyone cry...When I listen to good music, my tear ducts are directly connected to my ears. It's slightly annoying sometimes. I don't mean that crying is the only way to experience a passionate encounter with music. I just think that without some degree of emotional connection to the piece, you can't really be passionate about what you're singing or playing.
There are many things about my high school choir director that I objected to, and we had the kind of relationship where I could openly question those things. These differences of opinion, shall we say, have led to some pretty interesting discussions. One of the biggest things I'm still wrestling with as a future teacher is the role that competition should play in music. Sometimes in high school, I felt as though my fellow choristers were fueled more by passion for competition than passion for the music, and as someone who felt very passionate about just the notes on the page, this was sometimes frustrating. People were dead silent in show choir rehearsal, when there was a big shiny trophy at the end of the tunnel, but in concert choir they'd sit in the back of the room and chat when they were supposed to be singing.
Then Mr. Woodin would yell. Or cry. When people were being stupid, he would get really frustrated and give a big speech about how much he loved music and teaching and how we were taking that time away from him. As a freshman it made you feel bad. As a senior, however, you kind of started to roll your eyes and block it out. I feel bad saying that now, because I know exactly where he was coming from.
I think the thing about Mr. Woodin was that he was passionate about both music and competition. There's something buried in your genetics that unfolds into a passion for music...it can be nurtured, but you're born with it. Competition, however, is something that our society brings into everyone's lives. I don't think a single person could say "I hate winning." Plenty of people can say "I hate singing." The amazing thing about Mr. Woodin was that he could combine the two passions of music and competition to create an incredible final product. I still question, and will for a very long time, whether his proportions were exactly right, but I know there was no lack of passion in his teaching.
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