Thingies that happen to Steve in his other job

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Mon Nov 09, 2020 8:36 pm

Again today I only taught two kids at school but they were good ones. Gwenyth is making fabulous progress and I was able to spend an hour with her. Charlie wandered in early towards the end of her third session of the day. Last thingy on Monday for Charlie is spent with his tutorial group doing not a lot, so he came to see if there was any extra time going for him.

Bad mistake.

Charlie is part of the Y11 group of GCSE music students doing a preliminary performance recording in the morning. Gwenyth is a bit of a late starter at 13 and needs to know the sort of standard she needs to reach in just over two years time. Excellent opportunity to torture Charlie and show Gwenyth where she needs to get to.

Charlie had sat himself at Miss' desk so I said to G, "Darling, see that pointless miscreant sat just to your left? He thinks his name is Charlie but it is actually Sam. He has even convinced his mum that he is called Charlie. The lad is an idiot."

Charlie merely gave me that look. G simply looked confused; she has only known me for a few weeks, after all, so her confusion was understandable. I can have this effect on kids.

I explained what was to happen to the Y11 students in the morning and that C is representative of the standard required and made him perform his particular brand of mutilation of Fur Elise to G, who was dutifully stunned.

Beethoven's Fur Elise is deceptive. It sounds simple yet to play it beautifully requires the skill of an international concert pianist. Kids murder it. No doubt Miss thought she was doing a good thingy for Charlie when she presented it to him to learn for his GCSE performance. She was wrong and the next piece I shall help him learn is much more suitable.

Mind, C's elemental assault on the piece is masterly in his musical understanding and technical control when compared to that of Lois but that is another story altogether.

I sent G away with my usual, "Now go away. I have endured enough of you." C and I settled in to discuss his performance. Dismal though it was, it was fine by the standards of GCSE music.

I said at one point, "Charlie, your performance is far from perfect, but I would cheerfully bet you a fiver that it is one of the best in your group, behind only Billy and Henry. I bet Amy isn't great on her drums."

C nodded in agreement so I asked, "What is Amy like on her drums."

"Loud," came the instant and authoritative reply.

"Any finesse at all?"

"Nope. Just loud. What do you expect from a drummer?"

In my mind I can just imagine Amy lacing into her drums with the force of a teen girl releasing the pent up rage of a child who has not found her early teen years easy. I hope she enjoys herself; I am sure she does.

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

Fantastic news broke today. There is a vaccine. OK, so it is a while away from wide distribution, but it exists. There is hope that this bloody virus will piss off and leave us alone. For sure there is now hope that sometime in the spring, the corridors will again fill up with children and the Motley Crews of Musical Reprobates will again be in place when I arrive to teach at school. I cannot wait for this wonderful day to arrive.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Wed Nov 11, 2020 7:59 pm

I was back in school yesterday morning for an extra visit - GCSE music performance recording. These are 'emergency' recordings in case the world goes badly tits up again and recordings become impossible later in this academic year when they should be happening.

Miss has a wonderful talent. I am not sure if she has actually mastered anything but is clearly a jack of many trades. She is able to draw the best out of teen students whatever they are trying to do - a much more useful skill in a school setting than someone like me being able to perform Rachmaninov piano concertos.

I arrived just as guitarist Billy was about to make his first recording. It was good. Miss told him how to improve and he did a second recording. It was even better. Miss told him how to improve still further and he did a third recording. Miss told him how to improve still further and he did a fourth recording. There were four professional musicians with a variety of different skill in the room. We all sighed with joy at the end of the fourth performance and agreed in unison that Billy had nailed it. There were moments of magic in his performance and I said so; I received the full Billy beam in return.

Then it was my turn to accompany a singer and a double bass player. The same pattern followed. Not quite the same magic as achieved by Billy, but he is an exceptional talent. The same pattern resulted in a performance far in excess of that which I would have expected from these kids.

Miss is a force of nature. I hope she sticks around for a while. Or if not, that she takes me with her when she moves on.

Being in awe of someone c. 45 years younger than me is a new experience.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Fri Nov 13, 2020 9:06 pm

A couple of stories from yesterday (Thursday) in school.

The first included 11 year old Bailey. Our lesson was proceeding when Miss bounced into the room and searched haplessly for something or other. Eventually she bounded towards the piano, lifted a sheaf of papers and grabbed a book left underneath.

The following exchange started with her and was all done in whispers.

"I have been looking for this for ages."

"Why don't you put it down in the same place every time?"

"Don't know."

<Still in whispers, remember.>

"You need to be more organised." <a bit rich coming from me

>

"I know."

"Why are we whispering?"

"Don't know. You know?"

"No."

Off she hurtled to 149 where the book was presumably desperately needed.

I turned to Bailey who was shaking her head in despair and giving me that look. I said, "I know sweetheart. You feel you are in the company of lunatics here?"

Emphatic nod of B's head.

-------

Julia came for her lesson. She is being required to play a black key for the first time, in her right hand. This means playing the key with one of the two most difficult fingers to move - one in each hand. Anyone reading this who ever played the piano even briefly, knows which fingers these are. She complained, "My fingers are too short and I find it really hard to press the key."

Although less diminutive than last year, there is still not much of Julia. I noticed that her fingers are actually quite long, so I said, "Hold up your hands darling." She did so.

I put mine next to hers and pointed out how similar they are in length to mine. I said, "There is not a lot of you poppet, but quite a lot of you is in the length of your fingers."

Then I finished with, "And the rest of you is in your brain. Size of a planet."

You should have seen the grin I received in response to that.

So, a thoroughly happy afternoon yesterday and still a couple more stories to tell. Those are for tomorrow.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Sat Nov 14, 2020 8:40 pm

A lovely story from Thursday for you. Sam/Charlie is the glue to this diverse tale.

I had a short gap and was wandering back from the loo, to find Miss swearing mightily at the photocopier.

This blasted machine is new. It is an all-singing-all-dancing-bells-and-whistles machine. Which is all very well if you can operate the damn thing. Bit of a bugger when it gets into a spin which the user cannot get out of.

Mostly, I just turn it off at the wall switch and start again. Trouble is, like all machines lacking a solid state drive, starting again takes about five minutes.

Miss was trying to get the damn thingy to take a copy of something simple. I left her to it.

A few minutes later and Sam/Charlie and I were looking for a book that Miss demanded we use but had hidden very well. AGAIN. Given that the language from the photocopier had become richer by the second, neither of us cared to risk asking her where she had hidden yet another blasted book that was essential to the pair of us.

I wandered up to 149 to try a search there, to find a little girl awaiting her singing lesson with Miss. Little girl is a very sweet child. I said to her, "Miss is being beaten up by the photocopier. I know how she feels. It beats me up every week as well. Miss will be along as soon as she can."

Sweet Little Girl replied, "She is copying a song she wants me to learn." I replied, "It will be worth the wait eventually."

I have heard Sweet Little Girl sing before now. She has a gorgeous voice. She would tame those starving child-eating Tigers with lunch on their minds that I have described previously being tamed by LSS.

40 minutes later and I had need to wander down to 149 again. Miss was just finishing off with Sweet Little Girl. SLG and Miss clearly adore each other.

Just to make sure, Miss was saying, "I know I might have seemed a little harsh on you, but that is only because I know how much you are capable of. I do not mean to be unkind, ever."

Of course not and SLG was entirely unworried, so I could not resist. "Plus, Miss hates you."

"Oy. Not true" exclaimed Miss.

SLG looked me up and down dismissively and started to leave. Fact is, she does not know me, so time to make sure.

"Darling, come back" I called out to her retreating back. She stopped and turned back to face me. Miss was there to protect her, after all.

I said, "You have just had a double lesson with Miss. My latest victim had a double lesson with me. We adore these double lessons with the kids we teach. Just making sure you know, ok?"

Miss confirmed our love of double lessons with our kids.

"I know," chirped SLG happily and skipped away.

Folks, you need retraining into a new profession having lost your job to the pandemic? Give teaching a try.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Tue Nov 17, 2020 1:50 am

A quickie regarding Sam, who still thinks he is called Charlie.

He continued to work at Fur Elise during the first UK lock down, Come the second UK lockdown and schools were still open. We needed to record our students' performance for future reference.

Come GCSE performance recording day, we managed to coax from Charlie the best recording he could do. OK, so I could pick monumental holes in his performance but it was good enough to win nearly the best mark possible. Charlie is not capable of taking the notice of what I tell him to ascend to GCSE top marks, so next best is great.

Still mightily proud of him, mind.

Here in England, we are governed by morons. Everything they do is too late. Lockdown will be extended until well after Christmas because the latest one was too little and far, far too late.

Schools will be shut within a fortnight. I really hope I am wrong there.

GCSE and 'A' levels will be cancelled by March - far too late to come up with a system to be a realistic reflection of what the kids are able to achieve.

For now, at least our kids have given Miss something to work with when it comes to the awesome responsibility of adding her assessment of their performance into that of her overall grading of them.

And Charlie has done brilliantly.

So, one kiddie to look after as best as Miss and the rest of our performing arts team could do. We try the best we can. Over the rest of our department, similar episodes will be/have/been happen/happening. It is what we do.

Finger crossed for the next few weeks. Vaccines are coming on stream. Let us hope that in 12 months time, I will be grumbling about the latest crap musical the school will be putting on. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssssssssssssssssssssssseeeeeeeeeeeee

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Tue Nov 17, 2020 8:36 pm

Entirely unrelated to my teaching, but here is a charming event from earlier today for you folks to enjoy.

Claire is one of the assistants at the Coop. She had a baby 5 years ago. As well as working at the Coop, Claire shops at it as well, so we got used to seeing her little one from a very early age.

First gurgling and chuckling away in her cot. Then as a toddler, gurgling and chuckling away whist still somewhat unsteady on her feet. She charmed everyone she met. She held the Coop in thrall.

Claire kept her little one away from sight during the first lock down, so I often asked how she was doing. Always fine, happy and safe.

I needed some stuff from the Coop earlier. I saw Claire and a little girl about two thirds of her height doing something with their bikes, as I drove onto the car park. Ok, so Claire is a bit on the teensy side, but even so it was obvious that her little one had shot upwards since I saw them last.

I approached them and said to the little one, "Wow. You have shot up since I saw you last." Little one is clearly used to this, as she beamed at me and measured up beside her mum.

"What is your name sweetheart?" I asked.

"Hannah" came the reply. Then a few seconds thought, a withering look and, "That is Hannah with an 'H'." Clearly often referred to as 'Anna' and this rankles.

I replied, "OK Hannah with an 'H'. I will not forget the H."

I carried on, "How old are you, Hannah with an 'H'?"

"Five." A few seconds thought and then, "How old are you?"

Claire said, "You cannot ask him that." Hannah's reply was brilliant. "Well, he asked me, so why can't I ask him?"

"Quite right," I said. "I am 69."

Hannah has probably only just learned to count to 10, so 69 is probably as far beyond her comprehension as is my understanding of the internal combustion engine (here is my understanding of the internal combustion engine; it goes 'bang'). Even so, she had grasped one essential point. Came the reply, "Wow. That is a big number."

"Yes darling. I am very, very, very old." She nodded knowingly. Time to move on so we parted with loving waves. I will remember her name is 'Hannah' with an 'H'.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Mon Nov 23, 2020 9:03 pm

I had a wonderful afternoon in school today. More to come tomorrow.

We cancelled last Thursday. Y7 was sent home after there was a confirmed covid case. The only victims I would have been left with were Charlie and Julia. We have rearranged catch up lessons for all and sundry. This process will continue until we are all vaccinated. My timetable changes weekly. All we can do is the best we can for the kids.

I had already arranged an extra lesson for Julia at 2.50 today.

Then the peri organiser did what I have given my full appreciation of and understanding the need of, rearranging it again. I just go with whatever she organises.

Unless I can see something that clearly will not work. Like Julia's 2.50 lesson being rearranged for 1.10. Fine if someone tells the kids but nobody ever does, so I knew j would miss her lesson. Instead, I got Miss to phone for her, so up she toddled. I explained the rearranged time so she would not feel she was in the wrong.

Then little J dumped herself right in the poo, albeit not immediately. She apologised, "Sorry I did not turn up on Thursday" i.e. last week. "I had no idea what time my lesson was, and so missed it."

I explained that I missed it as well, so no harm done. Damn good idea mind, that the school had not kept me twiddling my thumbs for nearly a whole afternoon that Thursday. I might have started to get a tad on the tetchy side of thingies even given the flexibility I know is needed of me.

I give the kids a copy of my ever changing timetable every week, so they can work out when the info they had at their previous lesson is now out of date. AGAIN. AS USUAL.

So, come the end of J's lesson and I asked to sign her music pass. This showed the previous Thursday as a date but not a time. Which reminded me that I had said to her as I wrote in the date, "Look up the time on your timetable darling, and write it in."

So, come last Thursday one of these three scenarios played out: she had lost her timetable and so could not write in the time; come Thursday afternoon, she had seen that she had not written in the time, panicked, and held her head in her hands and hoped for the best; forgotten it was Thursday. Granted the latter was unlikely.

I glowered at her, poor little thing. I was using My Best Gimlet Glare. You know, the one that might frighten a nervous teddy bear for a few seconds. I snarled, "You should have looked up the time on your timetable."

This elicited a slightly uncomfortable wriggle. Time to hone in for the kill.

"You know sweetheart, the one I gave you so you would always be able to look up your lesson time?"

Endearments such as, 'sweetheart' can be uttered in ways that entirely contradict their normal usage. The snarl with which I uttered it made it entirely clear that I Was Not Best Pleased. <Not really, obviously. Just making a point.>

I could see the poor little thing thinking, "Oops. I am dead."

Now, under circumstances such as these, it is never a good idea to make 'consequences' clearly stated in case it becomes necessary to carry them out and I never want to carry them out. These are sweet children coming to me for piano lessons, not monsters in need of 'correction'. Leaving aside the more ludicrous of my physical threats, I really do not see putting my pupils into detention as something I would ever contemplate doing.

So I said, "Never be so disorganised again, or There Will Be Consequences."

"No Sir."

Julia was not exactly trembling in fear and dread, but she was clearly nervous, so time to let her off the hook. I am not entirely sure I should have had her on the hook in the first place but I comfort myself with this: in a few years time she will move into a world where her actions have immediate consequences. Learning gently from the likes of me now can only help her then.

I said gently, "Darling, not to worry. We all make mistakes. Trust me, we adults make them all the time. I make more than most. The point is that we learn from the mistakes we make and do not make them again."

<If only>.

J nodded sagely. I growled, "Now go away. I hate you and hope not to see you on Thursday."

J grinned hugely and skipped away. Beautiful, wonderful child.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Tue Nov 24, 2020 9:27 pm

More from yesterday.

I am becoming soooooo fond of Gwenyth. Such a sweet child. Mild mannered, unendingly polite, tries her socks off and is doing brilliantly.

Also shy and lacking in obvious self-confidence, so yesterday was a great time to try to give her a boost. Her latest pieces have begun the process of learning to roam around the keyboard. G has reached in weeks a standard that takes many kids several months to achieve.

I have a great trick up my sleeve when I want to highlight to a child how far she has progressed. I compare what she is playing now with what she was playing then - in Gwenyth's case her first lesson only a few weeks ago.

I wish I could bottle the smile that lit up her face.

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

Gabby has been a revelation. There is a predictable pattern now. I point out to her something that needs to be done to enhance her playing to the point where she can start to achieve decent marks in her GCSE music performance.

Gabby then whinges, mutters and complains that she cannot possibly do it. She accuses me of being a bully. Miss bounced in during one of our recent exchanges and G complained, "Miss, he is bullying me again."

To which, Miss replied with a question, "Is he bullying you more than I do?"

To which the reply came, "No MIss." Then from Miss. "Then stop complaining and do what he tells you to do." "Yes Miss."

I worship Miss.

Last week was making the right hand melody sing over the top of the left hand accompaniment. This week, the melody was singing beautifully. It could have been me playing. Oh boy, but this remarkable young lady has shot up in my estimation.

So yesterday we set about making the recording that Gabby missed recently through having to isolate. As usual, it took a few goes but eventually we got a really good recording 'in the can'.

Whilst we were cheering and celebrating I had a freezing realisation as I studied the score and we listened to her performance. I had made one of the worst mistakes of my professional career. All along, G had been playing the left hand accompaniment an octave too low.

Bugger. Bugger. Folks, this is like missing the spelling of' "Yes" for '"Yez" repeatedly in an essay presented to a teacher of the English language. Score reading errors do not come any more bog basic than this.

And I had missed it. For about a month.

In my defence, G had initially learned this piece with her 'private' piano teacher. I just assumed that what G had learned was basically correct. OK, so lots of mis readings of both notes and rhythms but here is the thingy: his role and mine are different. His role is to encourage and nurture Gabby's continued progress, and he is doing a magnificent job. My role is to help her get the best mark she can for her GCSE music performance. If you like to think of it this way, he is teaching G to play the piano; I am teaching her how to pass a specific exam. I prefer teaching kids to play the piano; often this is not my role in school.

I know exactly where he is coming from. I will correct my students' mistakes when: they are preparing something for an assessment; there is a useful teaching point to make, from which they can learn something that can be applied more generally.

So, I had made no attempt to correct Gabby's mis readings because she had learned them so well and correcting entrenched mistakes are soooooo hard to correct. Until I realised that she had been playing the accompaniment too low - which caused making the melody 'sing' so much harder.

Besides, I had planned teaching her a different piece and forcing her to learn it properly. She thought I was a bully before.

So I hit her with everything. Her left hand was wrong throughout. She had umpteen mis readings in the text. Her dynamics lacked interest. Her 'singing tone' was excellent but lacked refinement (it could not really have been me playing).

Bear in mind that I had no knowledge of G's determination to succeed apart from my brief experiences of her a couple of years earlier. Thingy is though, of late at every challenge I set her and thought, "She cannot do this," then she has proven that she can rise to the challenge.

So I gave her the options: sort out the current piece to the standard required to achieve top marks - and which I assured her she is capable of doing; learn a new piece with me as the driving force.

Bless her, Gabby did not hesitate. Option 1 immediately because, "I love playing the piece."

I cannot criticise her for that. There are good and cogent reasons why my repertoire in my (very) late 60's still contains repertoire from my (very) early 20's.

Good on you Gabby.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Sat Nov 28, 2020 9:46 pm

This is late for Thursday, but here are some stories I have been meaning to tell you folks.

I arrived at 146 to find Miss and drummer Ruth together. Ruth is a year 13 'A' level music student - the only one. You have met her at school musicals rehearsals. These two are very close. I became very close to the kids when I taught 'A' level in groups of 6 to 10, so imagine the intensity of a one to one relationship built up over c. 5 hours a week spent together.

Ruth asked me, "How old are you, Sir."

Miss spluttered, "You can't ask him that."

"Why not?" asked Ruth. "He knows how old I am." Yep.17, or 18 if she has had her Y13 birthday. Legally, there is a huge difference. Emotionally, not a hint of one.

I replied, "Quite right. I am 69."

Ruth rose the occasion magnificently, "I would not have put you a day over 50."

I replied, "It is dealing with you lot that keeps me young at heart." Ruth beamed at me.

The she announced, "I have been asking all the teachers how old they are."

I will share personal details with anyone at school who asks, but not every teacher will be so liberal, so I replied, "That could be dangerous."

Ruth laughed and replied, "Yes. I learned that early on. I am careful who I ask."

Then she asked, "How old do you think Miss is?"

I looked at Miss and asked, "Do you mind?" I received a nod of 'go ahead'.

"Easy to work out, but what do you think?"

"Late 20's/early 30's" came the reply.

Ha. What a loser. I said, "I know from what Miss has told me that she went to music college aged 18. She did a 3 year degree course followed by a 1 year teacher training course and is now in her second year of a fantastic teaching career. Therefore she is either 24 now, or 23 now and 24 come her next birthday."

"Yesssss" announced Miss triumphantly. "You are the first one to have got it right." I am guessing that this game has been going on for a while. Ruth merely gave me an, "OK Mr Smartypants" look, but it really wasn't hard to work out.

On to teaching and Julia bounced in, settled at the piano and proclaimed, "I have really good excuses."

OK, so I do not really want the 'trembling' bit of the 'trembling and awe' that I often lament is missing from my relationship with the miscreants I feebly attempt to teach, but is a tiny bit of 'awe' really too much to ask?

Julia sat there beaming at me, awaiting the next bit of the performance. I replied, "OK you third rate, pathetic, work shy little git, leaving aside the feeble excuse that your previous lesson was only two whole days ago (she had a catch-up on Monday), what are they for you not having done any playing since your last lesson?"

"Masses of homework preparing for tests."

"I don't care."

"I only dropped one mark in history."

"Pathetic. I never dropped a mark in history." <yeah, right>

"I came second in Maths."

"Crikey, the rest must have been pretty clueless."

Then I praised her to the hilt and we got on with reinforcing what we had done on Monday. It did not take a lot of reinforcing.

A little later Julia asked, "Did you really never drop a mark in history?" Time for some self-deprecation so I replied, "No darling. I am an idiot. Gaining a mark in tests/exams was a major achievement for me."

Hmm. Not entirely sure I should be pleased that she accepted that without comment.

I acquired a new pupil on Thursday; 11 year old Y7 Jasmine. Miss had already assured me that I would adore her. She was dead right.

Jasmine is tiny. Not unnaturally tiny, just very petite as in LSS and Julia this time last year. LSS and J still seem teensy to me, but Jasmine reminds me yet again that they have in fact, grown.

Jasmine has a wonderful smile. She is clearly very bright. Best of all, mum plays the piano and so: understands the process; can help when J is stuck. I am looking forward to more time with this little lady.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Mon Nov 30, 2020 8:31 pm

It is only a few weeks ago that I predicted that schools here in the UK will be shut within a fortnight and that lockdown will continue until at least Christmas. Happily, schools have stayed open.

Lockdown will continue for weeks. OK, so it isn't called lockdown. Instead it is called, "Tier 3" and there is very little difference. 'Non-essential' shops and businesses such as beauty parlours, gyms etc can reopen, but there is a damn good reason why they are deemed 'non-essential'; very few of us use them.

Enough to make them viable and valuable businesses during better times, but irrelevant to the rest of us.

In the spirit of making hay whilst the sun shines, I have three visits to school this week. One of this afternoon's highlights was Charlie.

Shortly after the GCSE recording Charlie announced, "Miss wants me to learn the Moonlight sonata."

By which he meant the first movement. This is one of the most famous pieces of piano music ever written. It is also one of the hardest to play musically. Almost any idiot can tackle the notes, but the resultant massacre is horrific to hear. All piano teachers will know exactly what I mean. Poor Beethoven must spend a dreadful amount of time revolving.

So my instant reaction was, "Not a chance. Much too difficult for you. Idiotic idea."

Then I paused for reflection. Miss is highly inspirational. Hell, she even inspires me and I am a crusty old sod. I reflected that I had the same reaction, albeit not expressed out loud, when she sent Charlie with Fur Elise. And that he would have broken the back of it inside two months were it not for having eight months off school because of corovid.

So I let him start it. He is doing very well. I am mightily impressed.