Batons and Borrowed Chords

With the awareness that this is going to sound like every other woman-finding-herself-in-a-time-of-crisis, I have to say that I am entirely appreciative of so many small things during this time of quarantine and isolation. Amazon Prime Reading, for one- I already have a Prime account due to college being the bear it is and needing things (textbooks) two days from it being mentioned in class that it is indeed a necessary resource for the course. This is an expansive library of knowledge that is easily accessible and no one told me about it. Fellow college students: utilize this! In the hustle and bustle of the past 4 years, I feel like the only non-fiction reading I have actually achieved has been limited to Grimms’ Fairy Tales for the literature credit freshmen year. Whether this was due to the fact that my life has been consumed by lesson planning and trying to stay up-to-date on all things education or my attempt at a very sleepy social life, it’s now evident how much I have missed having an escape that does not require a metronome or the first quarter of the alphabet.

It’s become an essential cog in my daily clockwork to sit in a cozy corner with a mug of hot tea and my newest read. It’s extremely lovely to have an hour before lunch or the stretch of time before bed spent in pursuit of this familiar memory. My mom could always be convinced to snuggle up with me and my sisters to read another chapter of a Harry Potter book or reopen the volume of Chronicles of Narnia (usually The Magician’s Nephew). Even when I moved away to college, my baby sister would write me letters in sloppy kid lettering requesting an update on my well-being and that I bring my illustrated Alice in Wonderland volume on my next venture home so we could pick up where we left off.

At the time I left for college, the youngest of the Walker girls was only 8 years old and demanding we return home; 4 years later and this defiant creature has reached 12 years of age, about to enter middle school, and has completed 2 years of saxophone instruction. It’s a marvelous and heart-warming thing to have 10 years between you and your youngest sibling and have them call you every couple of days with questions regarding band. I was ecstatic just to hear the news that one of my sisters was interested in band (the other two had given the trumpet and percussion a shot, but alas, soccer won the extracurricular war), but it was just made sweeter when she made the choice to follow in my footsteps and learn the saxophone- even without an instrument waiting to be used. My old saxophone had been a flea market find, stored in an attic for years before it reached my eager young hands, and promptly retired to another attic halfway through my senior year of high school when I was presented a new Yamaha S-62 as a Christmas, graduation, and following birthday gift.

Anyway – the little things. I find myself thinking more and more about things that instill a subtle sense of awe in me. The sound of rain has always been a source of home for me; when I was younger I had a habit of taking a book and a pillow on the covered deck during thunderstorms and reading until I fell asleep outside. While it is important to know this about me as a person (to this day I have a tendency to get very sleepy if a storm begins while I’m driving), I believe it is also important to know and acknowledge these things about ourselves. How are we to understand and encourage these unique qualities in our students if we cannot be at peace and revel in our own quirks? I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t have teachers who allowed me to sit on the floor in the corner of the classroom to do my assignments without question; at the time I felt it was where I needed to be and it put my whirling mind at ease to have a reassuring wall behind my back. I had teachers who understood that in order to better learn material I needed to occupy my hands, and for me that meant making bracelets out of string during a lesson. I even had a teacher who didn’t bat an eye when I requested permission to have an earbud in and listen to piano music while taking a test because it made me less anxious.

If it weren’t for these understanding, ready-to-listen, compassionate authoritative people in my life, I wouldn’t want to be a teacher. I wouldn’t be the “mom” figure in groups of friends. I wouldn’t be the kind, caring, thoughtful person I strive to be every day. These people taught me the importance of just listening to students. Where would you be if people hadn’t listened to you?

It’s about 9:45p on a Tuesday, the last week of class for the spring semester of 2020. It’s been an absolute roller coaster in just about every way possible – emotionally, physically, learning capability, living space, tolerance for others. I’ve had days of major depression and blocks of time where I feel intensely motivated. I’ve questioned my ability as an educator and been hyper-focused on doing as much professional development as possible in this opportunity called isolation. It’s been so important to remember that this is something no one could have prepared for and it’s imperative we be kind to ourselves. It’s okay if we need a day to just sit and binge-watch New Girl! This is a strange and unique situation and we can’t possibly expect ourselves to be a superperson in a global crisis.

Being a college student, this is an especially odd situation; while I’ve always had a structured day and schedule I loosely followed, that was largely mandated by class times and a commitment to show up in this place at this time. Out of all my classes I’m enrolled in this semester, I only have one that actually has kept it’s meeting time over Zoom and that is saxophone studio (which I very much look forward to- I miss my fellow Saxos). Everything else is completely hands off with only deadlines somewhere in what appears to be the far distance. Before all this craziness, I had never been forced to work at home and instead often opted to frequent cafes and libraries, therefore negating any need for an at-home work area. Now that all the cafes and libraries are closed and a stay at home order is in place, I have no choice but to make do with my current situation and recognize that I simply have not set myself up for optimal success. It was only within the past week that I finally realized I cannot do good and efficient work in bed or on the couch. With this information, I have set up shop at the kitchen table which is the best location I have yet to find despite it’s proximity to the refrigerator and my stash of hummus.

I have also discovered that without some semblance of a schedule, I have no chance of getting anything accomplished. My current schedule (we’re still in the negotiation stage, my insomnia and sleep needs are still battling it out) is as follows: wake up relatively early to shower and actually get dressed (trying to avoid sweatpants more than twice during the week!) including a short skincare routine. Then I’ll come out into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of iced coffee, make a small breakfast, and listen to some music while I eat. Then I make a to-do list on paper based off of my goals for the day as well as tasks necessary to stay on track with the schedule I have made for the rest of the semester: This allows some flexibility in my workload from day-to-day as well as gives me goals for each day in order to finish all assignments on time. Then I work until I get hungry or around 1 o’clock hits (whichever comes first) and take a break for lunch. At this point I can reevaluate my list of goals and figure out if there are any tasks that need to be shifted to another point in time. After lunch I work until I finish my list or it’s 6 o’clock, which I decided was a good time to separate my work day from the rest of my time. If I don’t split up my day like this, I find myself feeling guilty for not being productive with all the time I have.

Speaking of which- I’m going to take the rest of my evening and go relax for a while with a good cup of tea. Stay healthy and take care of yourselves, loves.

Welcome to my new project! I wanted to make this blog for a couple of different reasons: one of which being a general log of my journey into becoming and improving as an educator. I also wanted some sort of resource out there for any young adult interested in what it’s like to be a music education major and- eventually- a music educator. Education has always been my passion, and is only paralleled by my love for music. I’ve never been the most incredible musician, but the intricacies of music fascinate me and I feel strongly about the importance of music in the lives of everyone.

I am in my fourth year (out of five) in the Instrumental Music Education program at the Ohio State University. I play the saxophone, am the oldest of four girls, dating a trumpet-playing physics major, and my parents are my best friends. I was diagnosed with cubital tunnel and tendinitis in both of my arms during my second semester of school. My hobbies outside of music include hiking, reading, and yoga. One of my favorite things to do is organize basically anything and my calendar is my lifeline.

Today marks my 11th day of quarantine/social distancing since the Ohio policy regarding COVID-19 began. With all the changes that have been occurring, the biggest affect on my life has been the shift to solely virtual instruction for my classes. I’m sure this is odd for a plethora of majors at the university, but I think music education is pretty high up there on the list of things online schooling is not ideal for.

For those reading this after the fact or just unaware, OSU (and multiple other universities in Ohio and throughout the country) have moved to a completely online format for the remainder of the spring semester. Graduation is postponed and in-person instruction is strictly prohibited- including field experience for education majors. All schools K-12 in Ohio have also been shut down for an extended spring break (March 17th-April 3rd) at this point in time. Today was the order from Ohio’s Governor DeWine declaring that all citizens must stay in their homes beginning tomorrow (Monday, March 23rd) until April 6th. While I am at my parents’ house at the moment, I will be making my way back to my Columbus residence this afternoon.

One class I’m currently in is Teaching Instrumental Music Education in Elementary and Middle Schools. With the new format, we will not be continuing our field experience and therefore not be able to teach our prepared lesson with our assigned class. We also will not be able to conduct and rehearse our class lab ensemble (comprised of our peers performing on secondary instruments) with feedback from our professors. We are still able to work on and submit the projects required by the class. These projects will serve as resources for future interviews and lessons as well as allow us to refine skills such as professional communication and essential organization with direct feedback from a mentor.

One of the most difficult things about this ordeal is continuing professional development while practicing social distancing. I took the opportunity presented yesterday on my drive to my parents’ house to listen to one of my favorite band-centered podcasts called ‘After Sectionals”. Yesterday’s episode focused on classroom management, which is something I have always somewhat worried about being a female in this career. This podcast is particularly interesting because it is mainly about two female band directors and how they run their middle school program in Texas. They just gained a first-year teacher to aid their program and provide diverse perspectives on the multitude of subjects they cover. This beginning teacher point of view is incredibly valuable to me as I will be in this position within the next few years.

Stay clean and healthy! It’s tough out there, but we’ll make it through together.