Thingies that happen to Steve in his other job

[SteveHopwood]

My work has been primarily teaching privately at home throughout my career; the early posts in this thread copied from that much older forum are all about private teaching. This has changed in recent years as more and more schools have employed the likes of me to work for them and teach the kids in school. This is a mistaken approach; unsurprisingly, kids do better having c. 45 x 30 minute lessons a year privately than c. 30 x 20 minute lessons (in a good year) in school.

I do still teach privately, so let me tell you about Joanna and Katie. Joanna phoned just before Christmas asking if I could teach her and her 15 year old daughter, Katie. They live in Doncaster, so I could stop by on my way home from school, albeit with a 20 minute detour.

Truth to tell, I was a little reluctant. 15 year old beginners do not tend to have the staying power to get very far. Unless she had Katie very young, then mum must be in her 40's and my experience of beginners in the 40's is not great.

I was persuaded by three thingies: Joanna was awaiting the arrival of a brand new Yamah upright piano - those do not come cheap; Joanna was fulfilling a lifetime dream to play the piano having played the flute to a high standard as a child; mum described Katie is a 'driven' girl, never satisfied with second best at anything. I took that last with a touch of salt - how many times have I heard it, only to find that the child had the get-up-and-go of moss. Even with that last reservation, I decided to give them a go.

I am coming to love my visits. These two are very close. There is no dad/husband on the scene, nor is there ever any mention of one. I have seen in the past how a parent and child can become really, really close when the other parent has gone missing for some reason. Whatever the cause, it has drawn the two together.

They are also highly competitive. Whatever one of them is able to do, the other wants to better - or at least equal; a no-score draw is probably the happiest outcome.

Katie has the advantages of youth, flexibility and stamina on her side. She has the struggle common to everyone learning to play a musical instrument for the first time; she has both to learn to read music and to coordinate her hands at the keyboard. Joanna has the advantages of maturity, and previous musical experience on hers. She can already read music but we all know how our ability to coordinate lessens with age.

Katie is determined to be an academic high flyer. She has described her study methods to me and they are streets ahead of other 15 year olds I teach. They are light years ahead of mine at the same age. They sound like those that my wife used when studying for her degree.

Joanna says that she had surgery for a life-threatening brain tumour last year and that this has left her with some cognitive impairment, especially when it comes to memory. I tell you, if the J I am meeting now has suffered some cognitive impairment, then the pre-tumour J must have been a formidable lady.

So a combination of different individual strengths + competitiveness leaves them at roughly the same place after a month of lessons. What is remarkable is the progress. They are at a stage most like-for-like beginners would reach after 6 - 12 months of lessons. 6 months is great. 12 months is just fine and allows the student to feel some progress. Wow.

So, not every 15 year old child I teach is adorable yet wet and pathetic.

Not every 40+ beginner is too old to learn new tricks.

Hey. Maybe this 66 year old can learn to code dashboards like Thomas.

[SteveHopwood]

I had a blast from the past today. I do not think I have told you guys about James Ramm because James and I would have been coming to the end of our association when I started SHF.

The local 'posh' fee-paying school is Worksop College. They offer scholarships and James was the holder of a combined music and sports scholarship that paid the majority of his fees. Not every one who sends their kids to a fee-paying school in the UK is filthy stinking rich. These scholarships can make the difference between: not taking up a place; eating beans on toast for the duration.

James played trumpet, violin and piano and came to me for piano lessons. Naturally I gravitated to becoming his accompanist and even accompanied his finals trumpet recital at university.

Aged 14, James wanted to take part in a World Challenge expedition to somewhere in South America the following year. Students had to raise the fees for the trip themselves - or that was the theory. I have no idea how well this was policed.

The Ramms are members of a strong Methodist church who will support any enterprise by one of their members. James arranged a long series of monthly concerts at the church to which he brought fellow students from Worksop College, along with local friends. I provided piano accompaniment; the performers and I would meet in the two hours or so before the concert for a brief rehearsal. I was often sight-reading some fairly hairy stuff but we always got through unscathed.

You guys often have kind words to say about my coding but you should hear me accompany wayward children in an xxxx and piano performance. Frankly, I am magnificent. People have remarked in the past that I seem to know what they are going to do wrong before they actually get it wrong. It is all about reading the signals their bodies give off. I know when, for example, a flautist is about to re-enter after a piano interlude two bars too soon because of the huge breath she has just taken. She has not taken it just because she is bored. Name the instrument; I can tell you how I know when they are going to go wrong.

The entry fee for the concerts included a pie and peas supper made from supplies donated from a catering company whose director was a church member, and cooked on site by volunteers. Other forms of sponsorship paid other costs such as the hire of the church, printing etc.

I have written here about how people respond to kids performing and these events were no exception. They were wonderful events whose memories I treasure.

James is in his mid-twenties now and involved in his own teaching career, so we do not have any contact. That is the way of my world. Talented kids come into my orbit. We work intensively together for a few years then they move on. This is as it should be; I have done my bit for them and what is left are the very fond memories. His dad phoned today to see if I have room for a couple of kids he knows who need a piano teacher, which is what brought these memories flooding back. It was pleasant afterwards to sit back and reflect on all those concerts.

This reminds me of more. I first met the Ramms when dad won a grant to run a competitive music festival for kids for a couple of years, and needed a festival accompanist. James would have been 12 at the time of the first one and at that time was a pupil at Worksop College's feeder prep school. Music festivals invariably have a prize-winners concert and James featured heavily in ours.

He would always adopt a limp on his way to the platform, as if to say, "Look how heroic I am. Injured, and yet still performing." The head of music at his then school was at the concert, so I leaned across and muttered, "I see James is claiming his sympathy vote." HOM grinned and muttered back, "He has not missed a musical event in all his time at school, and has limped his way through every single one of them."

A tiny notette for UK cricket lovers. James and Joe Root were contemporaries at the College. Soon after JR scored his first Test hundred and was clearly on his way to great things I asked James, "Did anyone at school ever get him out?"

James replied, "Occasionally. He had a real weakness around the 150 mark."

[SteveHopwood]

I had a lovely Wednesday catch-up afternoon in school - catching up on missed Thursday lessons from last term. Lauren walked in slightly cautiously. She sat down and announced tremulously, "I only just remembered this catch up lesson. I would have learned the piece last night had I remembered."

Then the poor thing gulped as she realised that she had just confessed to not having touched the piano since her lesson the previous week. Bright girl that Lauren is, she adopted the, "When in a hole, stop digging" principle and sat quietly, awaiting execution.

Many and varied are the cruelties that can be inflicted upon children. I learned many years ago that I had inadvertently discovered a terrible one, albeit from a kind intention. I always wanted to give a complete performance of my prepared material to my teachers when I was a student; I wanted to show them what I had done and demonstrate my interpretation of the music. I loathed being interrupted. I understood why I was always stopped at the bottom of page 1. Working on a 35 minute concerto within a 60 minute lesson did not allow for me to give a complete performance. Understood, yes; loathed, also yes.

So the first thing I do in a lesson is allow the student to give an uninterrupted performance of their prepared material.

Great, so long as it has been prepared. A pupil said to me years ago, "Steve, you never shout at me when I haven't practised. Mind, you don't need to. Having to play through something that I am sight-reading because I have not practised is torture."

I said to Lauren, "Not to worry poppet. Do the best you can."

She floundered.

She faffed.

She waffled.

She faddled.

I only made her suffer for a couple of minutes then said, "Ok sweetheart. I will stop being mean now and give you some practical help." After all, Lauren could have just not turned up and claimed that she forgot the catch-up - which she sort-of did (forget, I mean).

There followed a huge sigh of relief, so I said, "Listen Lauren. There is only one thing you could do to seriously upset me. That is to contract some hideous disease and die."

Her reply was masterly; "I will try my very, very best not to seriously upset you."

-------------

I was asked to accompany Jack's GCSE performance on the flute so we have had a couple of rehearsals. His WW teacher was in school this afternoon and I heard Jack practising, so I asked WW lady if she wanted to hear us together. She had just finished for the afternoon and so came along.

This cut into Gracie's lesson, so when she came for it I explained what I was doing and was able to fit her in for a double tomorrow. She was happy with that and sat down next to me.

"So you had better go back to your lesson sweetheart, hadn't you?"

"Can't I stay and listen?" came the reply.

"You really should go back to your class."

I think Gracie and Jess must have been having smiling sweetly lessons because Gracie smiled ridiculously sweetly at me and asked, "Please let me stay. Pleeease. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease."

I won't bother telling you how the story ended. You already know.

[SteveHopwood]

Talking to Krysztian has a certain talking-to-the-wall quality. GCSE music kids have to record one solo and one ensemble for the performance aspect of the course; these recordings are sent off to the exam board and marked by one of their examiners. I always imagined this to be a relatively simple concept. Assuming the student was awake and listening to the explanation. Trust me, the music teacher understands teens; she has not explained it just the once.

I started a duet with K a couple of weeks ago, for the ensemble. "Will we have to record this?" he asked.

It is only me speaking from here on in. "Yes. It is your ensemble piece."

<look of blank incomprehension>.

"You have to record one solo and one ensemble piece."

<look of blank incomprehension>.

"Your solo piece is where you play on your own. Your ensemble piece is where you play with me."

<look of blank incomprehension>.

"Go and ask your GCSE music teacher to explain it to you. Again." I wish her luck with that one.

--------------------

I do not whinge about the Shame of the Black Hole of Calcutta these days because I have escaped it. I usually teach in a much larger room that is shared between drama and music. Sometimes kids will come and ask if they can rehearse something dramatic; they need the space so I move up the corridor to the main music room which is fortuitously empty during my teaching time.

A group trooped in to ask if they could use the room. I know the fact that they are unutterably gorgeous kids has nothing to do with it but honestly; you would need a heart of pre-cast concrete to deny them.

So I replied, "No. Go away." They stopped, confused.

One of them intoned, "It's OK; he doesn't mean it. Carry on guys."

Music teacher just happened to be in the room at the time and creased up with laughter. I muttered to her, "Yep. Still a lack of trembling and awe in my presence."

I told them to have a lovely time and left the room to a chorus of, "Thank you sir."

The reason I mention the Shame of the Black Hole of Calcutta is that music teacher just happened to need her room this afternoon, so I headed of to the Shame. It is all very well saying that there is nothing I will not do for a child; sometimes I have to put my actions where my mouth is and make the supreme sacrifice.

The British Empire was rightfully in its death throes when I was educated in the late 1950's through the 1960's; no country has the right of dominion over another and part of me is ashamed of the BE even though it is bugger all to do with me. I was a child of my time and so was taught British Empire History, which is why I know about the Black Hole. 50 years+ later, kids are educated in the dreadful events of the first half of the 20th century, presumably in the hope that they will not make the same mistakes; learning the mistakes of previous eras is a large part of the point of studying history, after all.

So no point in referring to the Shame as I do when talking to the kids. Or any of the younger staff either. I can feel very old sometimes. Instead, we refer to it as 'The Dungeon'.

I met Dommy coming for his lesson as I walked along the corridor. "Sorry Dommy. The Drama Brats want the big room, so we are consigned to The Dungeon" I announced.

"Fair enough," he replied. "I did get up to some mischief yesterday without getting caught, so I had it coming."

[SteveHopwood]

I am occasionally driven nuts by incoherent code commissioners who assume we can read their minds. It has caused me to abandon any number of projects in the past.

I was guilty of assuming that Lauren knew exactly what I was thinking last week when I explained that a very good strategy is to work on a piece we have just started as soon as she got home.

She came in for her second catch-up lesson this week, sat down and faddled, faffed and waffled her way through her piece.

"I could play it last week," she wailed, and continued, "I did what you suggested and worked on it as soon as I got home."

"Have you played it since?" I asked.

"No. Not until now" Lauren replied.

As a 66 year old professional pianist, the total tonnage of what I know about playing the piano would stop a stampeding bull elephant in its tracks. What 14 year old Lauren knows could be written in large print on the back of a postage stamp. It occurred to me that I was guilty of expecting her to understand more than she is capable of understanding.

So I explained that the idea is to learn the piece properly in the first place - maybe in the first two days after the lesson - then just spend a couple of minutes a day making sure she could still play it.

Lauren replied, "Yes, I do know that and had intended to but I got sidetracked all the time and forgot."

I can understand that. Kids in the UK are put under relentless pressure in school these days. Fact is though, that no consistent practise = no progress so I replied, "The downside of my laid back approach to teaching is that I invoke no fear. You would remember me better during the week if I shouted at you for not performing properly."

A panic stricken Lauren returned, "No, no, no. You mustn't. You can't. I would cry for a week." Remember that the ethos of the school is based around keeping volatile teens calm, and shouting at them is hardly likely to have a calming effect. The kids are not used to being shouted at in school and the prospect is scary for most and petrifying for the sensitive ones. Plus they are softer than butter.

So I replied, "No, I would not ever. I could not ever. I just couldn't. It is not what I come here to do."

I thought for a few seconds and decided on another tease, "Maybe I could try disappointment? This sort of thing, 'Oh Lauren, you can do so much better than that. I am so disappointed in you'."

"No, no, no, no, no. That's even worse. Shout at me first, pleeeeease."

I may have mentioned before that I used to wonder as a young man, why the older examiners and music festival adjudicators tended to be the kinder ones. I understand as I start to age what they understood back then, that treating children I come into contact kindly is the single most important thing in my world so I replied, "Only teasing Lauren. You are a gorgeous kid and I only see you for 20 minutes a week; I really want them to be happy minutes."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

"That's OK then" was the end of that conversation and we got on with the lesson.

I might try disappointment the next time Lauren plays like a drain, just to see how much she trusts me and how well she can ignore it. Not for more than a few seconds though, I promise.

[SteveHopwood]

Names are a problem in a large school; kids cannot possibly know all the staff and even the staff tend only to know their fellow departmental members. Take me as an example; I know the names of the music teacher, the head of Humanities to whom we all belong, and three of my fellow peripatetic music teachers. Oh, and the Head Teacher, but he is so far distant from a humble functionary such as me as to not feature in my life at all. Until he sacks me for threatening pupils with The Pencil.

So the default address to a male teacher is, "Sir" whilst for a female member it is, "Miss". This gives the kids a safe ground when addressing teachers. It also saves time. For example, "Yes Miss" is a tad on the shorter time than, "Yes Mrs Hammondly-Ingleby-Smythe, um, you are Mrs Hammondly-Ingleby-Smythe, aren't you?" OK, so a slight exaggeration but you get my drift? It also saves some horribly inaccurate renditions of a name.

Teachers use this as well. Addressing a miscreant known to two different departments by two teachers who do not know each other and referring from one to the other, "Listen young man, Sir tells me that .............."

So I was teaching Gracie whilst the music teacher was working at her computer. Gracie did something daft, as usual, glanced at The Pencil That Once Was Blunt But Now Is Sharp Because She Sharpened It and asked, "How sharp is The Pencil?"

"Pretty much as sharp as it was when you sharpened it sweetheart. It lives in my case and I use it twice a week, here in school."

I carried on, "You are safe today though. I cannot stab you with it because Miss will be a witness to my cruelty; I would be arrested, tried and sent to prison for the rest of my life."

Growled Miss from her typing into the computer, "Stab away as much as you want. I will say nothing. Just make sure you mop up the blood."

"You two are picking on me" came Gracie's plaintive reply.

I would love to report one of those wonderful moments when two unrehearsed individuals come up with the same instantaneous reply, "Yes". It was not to be. What followed was quite good though. Our replies were simultaneous.

"Yes" growled Miss, still typing away.

"Of course I am darling. You are Gracie and I am me, so obviously I pick on you. It is what you are for" was my reply.

Gracie carefully picked up The Pencil and moved it to the far side of the piano away from me, stuck her tongue out at me and proceeded with her lesson.

[SteveHopwood]

I enjoyed another lovely afternoon in school today. As usual of late, for the last period of the day in trooped the drama kids, Tamsin in the lead. I taught Tamsin for a while, so she knows me.

T gave me a smile so sweet it would have melted the sun and announced, "Sorry sir. It is that time again." As if I could ever mind.

I glared at them and snarled, "I hate you all, you do know that don't you?"

A couple of them looked slightly uncertain - I felt instantly like a child murderer for that. Tamsin and a couple more who know me better chorused, "No you don't" and proceeded to reorganise the room to suit whatever it was they were working on.

I have mentiond before that I know when I am beaten, so I gathered up briefcase, music, jacket, current victim and headed towards the door. This now-weekly event concluded with something I have come to treasure and will miss when it comes to its inevitable end. "Have a great time guys" I called on my way out. "Thank you sir" came the replies in different timbres and levels of sound. Oh boy, but they are gorgeous kids.

[SteveHopwood]

The Pencil is starting to acquire a life of its own, rather like Gareth's Folder did a few years ago.

I was teaching Heather. We are working on a piano duet for recording her GCSE ensemble performance. She was supposed to have learned her part the previous week but had failed to do so. Not a problem as the recording is not due in for more than a year. Definitely not a Capital Crime. An opportunity for some teasing, though.

At a highly inconvenient moment and 10 minutes early for her lesson, in bounced Gracie. She can be innocently disruptive so I made a vain attempt to Exercise Some Control.

"Ehup Gracie. You are early. Join us. Sit down and shut up or it is The Pencil for you."

"Awwwwwwe."

I cut her off as quickly as I could and carried on with Heather.

Next week is half-term, so it is two weeks before I see Heather again. "Listen up Heather, "I intoned, "you were supposed to learn your part of this duet and have failed to do so. Be able to play it by your next lesson or I will make you feel very guilty."

"How?" asked a clearly disbelieving Heather. I would have found a way in had she not asked the question.

I picked up The Pencil and held it threateningly towards Gracie and replied, "By applying The Pencil to Gracie."

"Awwwwwwe."

Heather grinned hugely and replied, "That's ok. So long as you are not applying it to me" and fled the room.

"Awwwwwwe."

Towards the end of Gracie's lesson, I decided upon one of my reality checks. I am dealing with children, after all.

I asked, "Sweetheart, you do know don't you that there are no circumstances under which I would allow you to come to harm were I present to prevent it? That if I came across someone hurting you that I would stop them? With lethal force if necessary?"

What followed was pure teen class. Gracie picked up The Pencil, walked to her bag, opened it and deposited pencil inside bag. She sat down again and said, "Of course."

Gracie gave me back The Pencil at the end of the lesson. She recognised The Helplessness of the Pencillesness Piano Teacher.

I have said it before; I will say it again. If more people spent more time in the company of happy teens, the world would be a far, far happier place than it is.

[SteveHopwood]

Year 7 in the UK is 11-12 year olds; year 8 is 12-13 years olds; year 9 is 13-14 year olds and so on.

I noticed that Y9 Dommy had a "Prefect" badge on his blazer, so I asked him what he is required to do.

His reply was, "I am not sure of the full extent, but so far it has involved herding year 7's and trying to make them be quiet."

I have mentioned before that the ethos of the school is based around keeping volatile teens calm. Children are not allowed to wander around in gaggles of groups not doing anything in particular. They have to be: somewhere they are supposed to be; en route to somewhere they are supposed to be.

They are supposed to walk quietly and in single file. The corridors are always staffed during times of high movement by many staff members. Calls of, "Single file please guys" and, "Quietly please guys" ring out all the time in the same calm, non-confrontational way. The discipline is quiet and kind, yet relentless; it is effective.

It may seem petty but here is an overwhelming truth; teens will kick out against whatever boundaries they meet. It is how they are learning to deal with the world around them. Give them something 'petty' but safe to kick out against and they will not kick against something dangerous - or at least be less likely to do so. Like carrying a knife for example, or bringing class A drugs into school. Much better to have them whinging about walking in single file than showing their mates the pistol they just smuggled in and grumbling about not being able to wear it in a holster visible to all.

Y9/10 13-15 is particularly volatile so I can see value in the idea behind investing some responsibility into them. Even so, my imagination boggled at the idea of Dommy herding Y7. I asked, "How good are you at herding your Y7's?"

"Absolute rubbish" he replied. "I have zero authority."

I laughed and replied, "And now you know how I feel when dealing with you."

"Ah yes" he replied after some thought, "but you have The Pencil."

We continued the lesson. On his way to the door at the end he paused, turned and asked, "Could I borrow The Pencil please?"

"No. Get your own. Now go away." Off he fled.

[SteveHopwood]

Today is the day we heard Trump's latest lunatic idea: let's arm school teachers. I can see his point and, let's face it; I am on record here as saying that I would use lethal force to stop harm coming to any child within a 100 mile radius of me. Even so, I am not entirely sure that kids would feel confident being taught by someone packing a lethal weapon, or that the atmosphere inside school would be improved.

I mention this because it came up in 15 year old Alice's lesson, when she asked how sharp was The Pencil before playing to me. I got the message and told her that under a Trump administration my threat could be a whole lot worse.

We discussed the concept for a few seconds. Al concluded it with, "Apart from anything else, what happens when the teacher goes mad?" A couple of seconds of thought. "After all, with me in his class he would go mad. All the others have."

And yes, A's playing was bad.

--------------------------

JC is not one of my pupils. He is a gorgeous and talented Y10 boy taught by the guitar teacher. I have come to know him through the school musicals and because of his closeness to the guitar teacher. Guitar teacher does a lot of 'gigs' alongside JC's dad, so JC is often involved as well.

JC and I gang up on guitar teacher after school each Thursday. Guitar teacher has a lot of stuff to carry down to the car and JC always pitches in to help. There is no getting off the school car park for at least 15 minutes after the end of the school day because of the lunatic behaviour of idiot parents. We take our time leaving the building.

So, I am chatting to guitar teacher when we are joined by JC and the teasing begins. Guitar teacher takes it very well. This is just a bit of happy background.

The point of this story is one told to us by JC this afternoon. JC explained that he was in a Religious Studies class discussing a religion that expects the Messiah to appear again. They had discussed the Biblical story of said Messiah being born the first time around in a stable after Mary travelled to Bethlehem on a donkey.

The teacher asked the class if anyone could suggest a reason for the continued Second Coming not actually happening yet. A class wag replied, "Because the donkey had broken down."

Teacher took it very well, according to JC.