Dream Big

It’s one of those statements that caught me a little off-guard when I first read it: “If your dreams don’t scare you, they’re not big enough.”  I thought dreams were supposed to be free and simple, floating in a blue sky like white, puffy clouds.  Uninhibited.  Undefined.  The thought of being scared by my dreams surprised me at first.  Who’s scared of a white, puffy cloud? It was cause for thought.  What are my dreams?  How big are they?  How real are they?  Everyone has a “someday” list.  Someday, I’d like to live in a brick townhouse on Park Avenue-esque street.  Will I ever live in a house like this?  Maybe.  Am I actively pursuing it?  No.  As I interrogated myself, I realized this really doesn’t qualify as a dream.  A dream requires goal-setting and small action steps.  White, puffy clouds aside, what are my real dreams and how am I actively pursuing them?

Last year, I dreamt of teaching at the college level.  Fourteen months later, I am in my third semester of adjunct teaching and was recently asked to prepare a new class for the spring.  Exciting, yes.  A great opportunity, yes.  Daunting, yes.  A dream that scares me, yes.  Let’s be honest – I had a mini meltdown just thinking about it this morning.  “When will I have time between now and then to read through three textbooks?  How will I be able to write out all of my lectures, make slides, and come up with assignments on top of my current teaching load?” I lamented.  The answer is simple in hindsight: action steps.

1. Make an outline of the chapters in each textbook. 2. Distribute chapter reading over course of semester (how many chapters on average per week?) 3. Skim each chapter and pull out relevant information. 4. Determine measures for evaluation (quizzes, tests, papers, projects, presentations, etc.) 5. Create measures for evaluation 6. Determine presentation methods (combination of lecture, slides, music listening, student presentations, etc.)

I remember how I felt in the weeks prior to my first day of college teaching (late last summer).  Expecting the unexpected.  Uncertain but confident.

Do your dreams have limits?  Are they bigger than life?  Do they scare you just a little bit?  Dream big – what do we have to lose?

Daydreams

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This was the name of the piece I assigned to Bobby last week. Bobby is a well-mannered redhead, autistic, and in the 8th grade.

Now in our third month of lessons, this piece from The Music Tree, Part I is four measures long with three 4-beat patterns total. Bobby immediately brought his hands up to the keyboard and played through the piece, aggressively. Looking at me briefly for approval, I pointed to the page and said, "What about this half note?" "Oh yeah," he said quickly, replacing his hands on the keys.

Again, he played through the piece, correcting his position when he realized he was off by a step. He began again. I could tell by his body language that he was just not in the mood to play music off the page. In a moment of hesitation, Bobby suddenly diverged into another register and musical atmosphere completely, though I recognized a few patterns from "Daydreams."

"Why don't you play this version of 'Daydreams' and then play me your version based on some of these patterns," I suggested. Forcefully, he again played the four bars, struggling to keep the rhythm going. "Okay," I said. "Now play your version of 'Daydreams.'" With no hesitation, Bobby brought both hands up to the keyboard in a fell swoop and began playing his improvisation. Both feet immediately moved to the una corda and sostenuto pedals and he experimented with the change in sound with unabashed confidence.

I listened intently to the layers of sound — covering the extremities of the keyboard — very carefully placed and intentional. In some cases, it was musical babble; in others, it was very much an embellishment of the original piece. Amidst the glissandi (yes, glissandi) up and down the keyboard, the cluster chords, the quick flourishes, and even a theme from the improvisation he played for me last week (I was amazed that he incorporated this), Bobby returned to the original "Daydreams" again and again. "He gets it," I thought to myself. 

Sometimes, the patterns were played softly in the upper register (above the wash of sound he created with the pedal) and sometimes he augmented them slightly in the middle register. I also noticed a few black-key motives from his improvisation last week making a reappearance in this new context. It was fascinating to see and hear his creativity.

After a couple of minutes, I thought to myself, "How long should I let this improvisation activity last? There are other pieces I'd like to get to in this lesson. How do I know when he's at the end?" At a seemingly logical stopping place, I interjected, "That's great Bobby! I love your interpretation of 'Daydreams,'" but he simply glanced up at me and continued on with his improvisation. I quickly realized that this was a valuable teaching moment and a perfectly appropriate way to spend our lesson time. I listened to Bobby's use of tonal patterns, rhythms, and repetition. I watched him play. He was into it. He was making music. He was incorporating things we had learned but he was making it his own. When he arrived at the end of his improvisation, I knew it was complete.

We finished the lesson with a few activities from the lesson book but I was struck by what I had just witnessed. I wondered if others would hear the things that I heard — the creativity, the sensitivity, the synthesis. I learned something new today about music as a language.

First Day of School

It's my first day of school today - second year as a professor!  What a different world it is to spend the last few weeks of summer checking enrollment, revising a syllabus, triple-checking all the technology in the classroom, and writing lesson plans.

There's something very exciting to me about this world of academia.  Students criss-crossing over the quad; tall, ivy-covered buildings; libraries full of books; the voices of lecturers drifting through the hallway.  The pursuit of knowledge can be a very exciting one if you put your mind to learning.  As I approach the academic world from "the other side," I feel like one of my primary goals as a teacher is to inspire learning.  I want my students to succeed and do well but I want them to truly desire learning most of all.  As I told a student today, I truly believe you can be as successful as you want to be.  How do you teach this level of commitment and strength of will?  How do you develop independent learners?  So you see, even professors have much still to learn.

This afternoon, I'll meet the five bright-eyed students currently enrolled in my class (as of 10:19 p.m. last night); dive into our thick, spiral-bound textbook; and pray for no major technology failures.  However, seeing as how technology is not always on our my side, the backup plan is to play "air piano" and play multiple rounds of "rhythm editing" - a sure crowd-pleaser.  Don't you wish you were in my class?!

Image Credit: personal

Preparing to Perform

This past weekend, Steve and I held a joint studio recital (our first!) at the church.  We had almost a dozen students sign up to participate and we've spent the past several weeks of lessons trying to prepare them to perform (for many, this was a first).

How do we prepare to perform?  We do warm-ups, technical exercises, and breathing exercises (for saxophone players, that is!); we practice pedaling in our shoes; we learn how to sit properly, stand properly, bow properly; we practice bringing our hands up to the keyboard and away at the end of a piece; we practice from memory; we perform in front of others; we strive to keep going no matter what happens.  I think this last item is one of the more difficult ones.  Our initial, natural response seems to be to freeze - as if to think, "Did anyone hear that?"

After many recital experiences of my own (including my 2nd grade horror story of completely blanking on Minuet 2), I feel as if I learn something new about myself each time.  There's only so much one can do to prepare for something.  Preparing to perform is no different.  As a teacher, I try to instill confidence, teach professionalism, train memory skills, and encourage students to be the best they can be.  Though, isn't it true that until we experience that rush of excitement and nerves and the flutter of muscles while playing (I have many stories of shaky hands and jittery legs), we don't fully know how to prepare to perform?  For many, myself included, it's a face-to-face confrontation with fear.  It's not about being perfect and not making any mistakes.  It's about communicating with others, sharing music, and overcoming ourselves.

How do you prepare to perform?

The Adjunct: The First Year

You're probably wondering, "What happened after that post about becoming an adjunct back in August?  How were the classes?"  Well, I'm back with a full year of college teaching experience under my belt and four classes (two each semester) on my resume.  But that's not enough for me.  I want to know what I can improve, how I can teach more effectively, and how the students perceived the class.  What better way to get this feedback than by creating an end-of-the-semester assessment!  (Dorky, I know.) The university does a course assessment at the end of each semester; however, I as a teacher did not receive this feedback until FOUR MONTHS into the next semester!  My solution: Create my own one-page assessment to give to students on the same day as the university assessments.  I had two envelopes - one for me and one for the university.  This way I get instant results... and feedback from the school in about four months.

I asked the following questions about the course itself:

1. Please state your reason(s) for taking this course (i.e. elective, interest, minor) 2. Did you have any prior experience with the piano prior to taking this course? 3. Please describe your favorite aspect of this course 4. How can this course be improved in the future? 5. Did this course meet your expectations?

Then I asked students to rate my teaching effectiveness (5-point scale: 1-Strongly disagree, 2-Disagree, 3-Neither agree nor disagree, 4-Agree, 5-Strongly agree)

1. Demonstrates commitment to each student's progress 2. Seeks a good, working relationship with students 3. Selects appropriate material for learning new concepts 4. Establishes a welcoming learning environment 5. Introduces new concepts in a clear manner 6. Demonstrates enthusiasm in teaching 7. Addresses technical challenges and works to resolve them 8. Presents an extensive knowledge of musical style 9. Introduces music theory concepts in a clear manner 10. Establishes strategies for effective practicing 11. Respects the needs and goals of the student 12. Prepares and encourages students for and in performance 13. Manages class time effectively 14. Approachable; open to communication

I had 11 students submit responses.  Here are the results:

Course Assessment Question #1: Almost half stated, "Interest in improving piano skills;" about a third said, "Elective;" and only one indicated "Humanities requirement."

Question #2: Five said, "Yes;" six said, "No."

Question #3: One indicated, "Sheet Music;" one said, "How we were tested;" five students said either, "Playing the piano," or "Learning how to play;" one said, "Learning how to read music;" one said, "All of it;" and one said, "Being able to make constant strides in the understanding of the piano and how to play it."

Question #4: One commented, "Better classroom;" four students said, "More class time," or "Meet more times per week;" two had no suggestions for improvement; one suggested, "Instructor play more;" and two said, "Spend more time on important lessons rather than going at such a fast pace."

Question #5: All students responded, "Yes."

Teacher Assessment #1 - Six students said, "5-Strongly agree;" five said, "4-Agree" #2 - Ten students said, "5-Strongly agree;" one said, "4-Agree" #3 - Nine students said, "5-Strongly agree;" two said, "4-Agree" #4 - Seven students said, "5-Strongly agree;" four said, "4-Agree" #5 - Eight students said, "5-Strongly agree;" two said, "4-Agree;" one said, "3-Neither agree nor disagree" #6 - Six students said, "5-Strongly agree;" five said, "4-Agree" #7 - Five students said, "5-Strongly agree;" five said, "4-Agree;" one said, "3-Neither agree nor disagree" #8 - Ten students said, "5-Strongly agree;" one said, "4-Agree" #9 - Six students said, "5-Strongly agree;" five said, "4-Agree" #10 - Nine students said, "5-Strongly agree;" two said, "4-Agree" #11 - Nine students said, "5-Strongly agree;" two said, "4-Agree" #12 - Eight students said, "5-Strongly agree;" three said, "4-Agree" #13 - Eight students said, "5-Strongly agree;" three said, "4-Agree" #14 - Ten students said, "5-Strongly agree;" one said, "4-Agree"

I was pretty pleased with the results!  The answers to these questions are so helpful in my future course-planning.  I can self-evaluate all semester but in the end, it's the student opinion that matters the most.

If you made it this far, thanks for bearing with me!  I not only survived my first year of college teaching, I learned a great deal!  Looking forward to more opportunities like this in the future.

Creating Practice Plans with Beginning Students

*Disclosure: I get commissions for purchases made through links in this post.

Last year, I spent some time observing at the New School for Music Study in Kingston, NJ (read my notes here, here, and here). 

This school, founded in 1960 by Frances Clark and Louise Goss functions as a keyboard pedagogy lab: pedagogy students gain teaching experience, community members gain instruction, and new teaching approaches are constantly being tested and evaluated. 

One of Clark’s strong beliefs was that students should be taught to be self-motivated learners — this essentially makes the teacher dispensable!

In trying to develop independent learning in my students, I recently began introducing “practice plans” with my students during lesson time (an idea I observed at the New School). Practice plans are 2-4 specific items or practice strategies per piece, neatly written on a sheet of paper that they can keep out next to their books to (hopefully) better organize their practice time at home.

Think of how much learning takes place at home during the week! If a student practices 20 minutes a day, five times a week, that’s 100 minutes of solitary time spent on these pieces (as compared to the measly 30 minutes they spend with me each week).

Here is an example of what this sheet looks like:

This student (age eight) is working out of The Music Tree, Part 1. At the beginning of today’s lesson, we reviewed the last practice plan and checked off the completed items (she was very honest about what she had and had not completed!).

After reviewing the pieces in progress and performing her two recital selections, we wrote out a new practice plan together. This is not a practice notebook where I sit and scribble notes while she plays and I hope she goes home and reads them later. Practice plans are collaborative. 

*As a side note, I do keep a lesson notebook for my own purposes — mainly, keeping up with student progress and repertoire assignments.

“What are two ways you can practice this new piece?” I asked today. 

Erin made a suggestion, I made a suggestion, and I made sure she could demonstrate whatever it was we were writing down. After all, writing “tap/count” is great, but if she doesn’t know what it means when she gets home, it’s not a real practice item.

The exercise of talking through a practice plan for each piece doubles as an assessment tool for me: by having students make suggestions for their practice time (setting their own goals), I have a better understanding of what they’ve learned and how they are applying and reusing ideas and strategies from previous pieces we’ve studied. Also, I find students are more accountable to me the next week when they have to report on the effectiveness of their practicing — they take more responsibility for their progress.

For more information on Frances Clark, visit the Frances Clark Center for Keyboard Pedagogy website.

Matthew's Lesson

Every Monday night at 6:30 p.m., seven-year-old Matthew comes for a piano lesson.  Some days, these lessons are 80% discipline and 20% playing but this week’s lesson was an exceptional contrast. In preparation for our lecture recital, Steve and I had moved the piano from it’s usual front right position to front and center (and rotated 180-degrees).  This change to our normal lesson scene made an immediate difference with Matthew.  The curly-headed, wiggly child sat right down and flipped his book open to our newest page.  “Are we starting with this piece?” I asked, pointing to the first of the two.  Without a word, he brought his hands up to the keyboard and began to play.  He meant business!  I sat to the side and observed until the end of the piece.  Matthew has an excellent sense of rhythm so generally it’s just fingering and tonal patterns that we need to review.  This performance, however, required no review!  He played the song in it’s entirety while chanting the text.  I was impressed!

We moved on to the second piece on the page by reviewing the rhythm/text.  After tapping and chanting, I asked him to find his hand position.  Again, he played straight through, while chanting the text with no issues!

Normally, by this point in the lesson, I would be kindly asking him to take his feet off the pedals, sit still, play with only fingers 2 and 3, etc.  Since he was so focused and playing so well, I encouraged him to explore the change in sound when adding a little pedal.  He played very gently – adding about half of the sustain pedal throughout.

At the end, I asked, “How did that change the sound?”  He had an immediate response.  “It stays,” he said simply.  “Yes!” I replied enthusiastically.  “It makes the sound last longer, doesn’t it?”  “Yes, and if I were just playing notes like this-” he stopped to demonstrate a pattern of steps “then I wouldn’t need the pedal.  But if I were playing here [high register] and then I wanted to go down here [moving to the mid-low register] then I would need the pedal.”  What an insightful response!  It became clear to me that Matthew not only recognized the sound difference but knew how he would use it in the future as a way of connecting patterns in different registers!

Having recently learned about 2nds, playing on white keys (this book starts on the black keys), and dotted half notes, I asked Matthew to improvise a piece that incorporated all three things.  He thought for a minute before beginning.  Thoughtfully, he played a stepwise melody with a repeated rhythmic motive.  He used both hands and a wide range of keys.  The piece ended rather abruptly but from the look on his face, this was intentional.

“That was beautiful, Matthew!”  I said.  “What’s the name of that piece?”  “I haven’t decided yet,” he said in a matter-of-fact way.  “Let’s ask your grandma what she thought,” I suggested.  “I thought it sounded whimsical,” she said.  Seeing the perplexed look on Matthew’s face (“What the heck does that mean?!”) she quickly added, “Like playing with toys.”  “Hmm, what do you think, Matthew?” I asked.  “Toy Days,” he stated.  And “Toy Days” it was.

We moved back in the book to review his recital pieces – “Inchworm” and “Playing Frisbee.”  We work on text from the very beginning of learning a new piece but in preparation for the recital, I’ve been working on having Matthew think the words internally instead of speaking them out loud.  We reviewed this for both pieces and as I joined him on the bench to add the duet part, I reminded him about bringing our hands up to the keyboard at the same time and lifting our hands off the keys and back to our laps at the end of the piece.  His grandmother was very impressed.

I had one more piece to review – “Merrily We Roll Along.”  This is a great example of knowing/singing a song one way and reading it another.  This elementary piano book carefully presents this song within a 3-note range for each hand and with only basic rhythms (for instance, no dotted rhythms).  I believe that reading is important, but I also know that Matthew knows this song with a different rhythm.  I’m not going to correct him with the simplified version when he can hear and play the more complicated version.  All I had to do was turn to the page and he began to play.

I had turned for just a minute to make a comment to his grandmother about practicing but I could hear him working out this song by ear.  He was looking at the book but we both knew he wasn’t really reading it.  He was singing to himself and when he played a wrong note, he would say to himself, “Wait!” and then begin the phrase again and again until he figured it out.  He didn’t stop until he could play all the way to the end.  I thought this was excellent and praised him for using his ear to self-correct.  I played my accompaniment for him and we sang the melody together (with the familiar dotted rhythm).  After that, it was much easier to play both parts because he already had an idea of how the two parts fit together.

We ended our lesson time with a few preparation steps for a new song – reading the text in rhythm and tapping while chanting.  We discussed the implications of the title (“Parade”).  “Have you ever marched in a parade?”  I asked.  “No, but I’ve seen a parade before,” he answered.  “Well, what do you think would happen if you were marching in a parade and suddenly, you decided to stop?”  “You would get run over!” he replied with big eyes.  “Probably so!”  I said.  “That’s what this song means when it says, ‘Keep the step!’”

Lessons like these remind me why I love teaching.  The creativity, the innocence, the playfulness, and the imagination make music so much more fun!  Can we all be a little more like seven-year-olds sometimes?

Making Opportunities Happen

I’ve often been advised to “make the most of opportunities” – I’m sure you’ve been there, too.  Sometimes an opportunity presents itself out of nowhere – maybe it’s an extra time commitment, maybe it’s out of your comfort zone and just when you’ve convinced yourself to pass it by, suddenly the opposing voice in your head says, “Wouldn’t this be a great experience?”  In my case, the opposing voice usually wins.

I recently had a conversation with my dad about this very thing.  In fact, he even quoted my opening statement.  As we continued our conversation, we talked about the importance of making opportunities happen.  It’s great when opportunities just pop up in front of you (Hi!  I’m Mr. Opportunity!) but let’s face it – sometimes the opportunities just aren’t there.  The economy struggles, organizations lose funding, no one is hiring.  Have you experienced this?  How do you respond?

It starts with a problem.  Problems are everywhere!  Pick one and figure out how you can solve it with your given skillset.

Problem: I moved to a town with no community music programs. Solution: open a piano studio (I have nine students after four months) and start two children’s choirs (I have fourteen enrolled this year).  I had to think beyond my comfort zone (i.e. teaching in an established organization where marketing and administration is taken care of by someone else) but as a result of thinking entrepreneurially, I now have the flexibility to set my own schedule and create my own teaching environment.

Problem: there are no opportunities for amateur musicians to come together to play or listen to chamber music in town. Solution: start a summer chamber music workshop.  I give you the Westminster Chamber Music Workshop – a week-long series of coachings, rehearsals, and special events for amateur players and choral singers in the area to come together to network, learn, and make music.  Special events each night will feature guest artists in performance and lecture – free and open to the public!

It’s not always about making the most of opportunities… sometimes it’s just about making the opportunities happen.

Setting Studio Goals

This is the first week of the spring term at the Studio and I have all of my piano students setting goals. 

#1: Practice ___ times per week
#2: Practice ___ minutes per day

The idea came in part from a suggestion from a parent on an assessment that I sent out at the end of last semester. She was seeking a way to keep her 7-year-old daughter more accountable at home. 

To paraphrase her words:

“She loves playing and she looks forward to lessons, yet somehow she never forgets to do her homework but she always forgets to practice the piano.” 

In response, I created a one-page chart listing Monday-Sunday with a column for items and number of minutes practiced. The two goals are listed at the top.

It’s interesting to hear the goals these students set for themselves.

Most say they will aim to practice 4-5 times a week with practice sessions ranging from 15 minutes to 25 minutes. They also get a thrill adding up the number of minutes they will practice per week.

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I think goal-setting is very important. I could dictate that my students practice 5 days a week for 30 minutes each day but I feel that it’s important for the students to set these initial goals themselves. After a few weeks of hopefully successful practicing, I might suggest that we increase those goals. 

This way though, the student has the ownership. It’s not a mandate from me or from their parents, it’s a goal they themselves set out to achieve.

This is the first time I have presented practicing goals to my students so we’ll see how much they achieve in the weeks to come!

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Another goal-setting resource I created for my students includes space for them to jot down ideas about achievement goals, how they want to use their music for good, and creativity goals. Each worksheet is intended for a 12-week or 3-month period of time, giving students plenty of time to work through their action steps.

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Life on the other side of the fence

This week marks the end of my first semester of collegiate teaching.  I survived!  There were plenty of new experiences – leaving the room for course evaluations, grading tests, giving written feedback, and administering juries, just to name a few.  It’s life on the other side of the fence.  I am so thankful for the education I received at Eastman which prepared me for these situations. I saw the need for periodic “checkpoints” – making sure that the students are keeping up and able to master the new concepts during the course of the semester.  How can you grade piano performances by seven different students simultaneously and objectively?I developed a unique system using the technology resources in the lab.  Every few weeks, I chose four items for students to record via Garage Band.  They had 30 minutes to complete these items, which allowed them the opportunity to re-record, if needed.  I am more concerned about whether or not they can perform the selected items rather than how well they do on their first attempt.  At the conclusion of the test time, the students emailed me their files for grading.  This allowed me to use a rating scale to grade their performances on tonal and rhythmic accuracy and expression.  I generally listened to each item three times to focus individually on each of these criteria rather than having to take in everything the first time.  When the students get their tests back, they have a very clear measure of their tonal, rhythmic, and expressive performances across all four items.  It’s a great way to see areas of consistency (i.e., John is great with rhythm but could spend more time on his preparation of tonal patterns).

I graded my fourth and final quiz/exam on Tuesday (yes, I am the teacher that gives a final exam on the last day of class – two days prior to the final).  The final exam is a 15-minute jury.  Students were asked to prepare the following:

• Three 2-octave scales of choice
• Solo piece
• American Song
• Harmonization study
• Transposition study
• Improvisation study

My classes are held in the Music Technology Lab so many of my students are not used to playing on an acoustic piano.  There are four small practice rooms on the first floor of the Fine Arts building (all with Boston uprights) but I thought it might be nice to arrange the juries to be held in a space that had a nice instrument.  My students were enamored with the classroom Steinway – the touch, the sound, the pedals – I think it had a positive impact on their performances.

For the jury, I decided not to record the student performances, for time’s sake.  Rather, I developed a grading chart to be filled out while listening.  I included items such as fingering, characteristic tone, rhythmic consistency, tonal accuracy, hand position, posture, technique, pedaling, phrasing, and articulation, each worth no more than 5 points out of 100.  This proved to be a great tool.  I administered six juries on Wednesday (with grades: 94, 93, two 89s, 87 and 85) with six more to go on Monday.

Time to take what I have learned and prepare materials for my classes next semester!