Thingies that happen to Steve in his other job

[SteveHopwood]

Nikki and I managed a fabulous recording of her GCSE ensemble duet. It only took two attempts.

That is a wonderful child's GCSE performance requirements in the can. I love helping kids with stuff like this.

[SteveHopwood]

Not sure that I have emphasised just how cute Nikki is. Aged 15, tiny and speaks English with that Polish accent that charms me soooooo much. Her family emigrated to England when she was about 3. There are some Brexit catastrophes looming on the horizon that might make it impossible for the likes of her family to emigrate to us is one of them in the future. I hope not. Bugger all I can do about that apart from hoping it does not come about and the likes of these people like these can continue to arrive here. What I can do is the best I possibly can for any child presented to me.

We managed to get Nikki's GCSE ensemble recording in he can two weeks ago - a piano duet. That completed her GCSE performance requirements to a high level. Both her solo and ensemble performances are at a level one below that which can acquire the highest mark.

So, last week I presented this wonderful child with a solo piece that is a notch higher than that she had already recorded. A successful recording will boost her mark further. The work required to achieve this might outweigh the benefit. Here was the deal I offered her with total control offered to Nikki:

• She is prepared to run with it, learn it properly and re-record her solo with all the concomitant pressure this will bring. We can always revert to plan A if we do not get a sufficiently good recording. The original stands, whatever happens subsequently.
• I promised to have a book of 'fun stuff' in my case for the following week in case Nikki decided she was fed up with the pressure of learning for an exam and just wanted to play for pleasure.

So, a week later i.e. yesterday, we met up again. Nikki explained that she had not spent a lot of time on the new piece but had learned half of it with each hand separately - a common practise amongst elementary-level pianists. I reminded her about, "The deal" and asked her if she wanted to continue with it or delve into the, "Fun" book instead.

This provided Nikki with a problem. Obviously she wants to do the best she possibly can in her GCSE. Then again, she has been battling with this stuff for a year, so the idea of being able to ease up must be massively appealing.

Nikki explained, "I have not done a lot of practise. I have learned this with separate hands."

I reminded her of, "The Deal" and asked what she wanted to do. She thought for a few seconds, clearly torn. Finally she asked, "Can I see the book, please?"

The book I intended for her was the one I was using with Nikki and Alice when I decided a year ago that they were going nowhere and decided to concentrate on preparing them for their GCSE performances. I hate teaching merely to an exam, but for me the child comes first; just occasionally teaching towards an exam is in their best interest. Any of you in the same position will understand my dichotomy.

The book I actually presented was the wrong one and several notches below the one I intended. I had picked it up in a hurry and just got it wrong.

I explained my mistake. Then I thought about one of the pieces in the book called, "Mini Mouse Hits Town." It was a grade 1 exam piece a few years ago and was an everlasting hit with all children called upon to learn it.

I said to Nikki, "Tell you what darling. Have a listen to this and see if you fancy something catchy, yet ridiculously easy over the Christmas break." I played it to her.

Nikki's eyes lit up with rampant enthusiasm. "Oh yes. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaasssssssssse let me play that. I want to play it. Really, really." It was a joy to see.

Then a couple of seconds thought and, "Of course, I will carry on with the other piece." This uttered with all the sincerity of me saying to Nikki, "I don't like you."

She is not going to spend much time at the keyboard these next two weeks. Who cares? It is Christmas. I am just glad that the hours of daylight stop shortening in two days time and start to lengthen in 4 days time. Nikki takes a break over the next two weeks? Good for her. She needs it.

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

Dommy and I ganged up on the school yesterday. His lesson is last but one, followed by Lauren. Lauren failed to turn up, so I cheerfully spent her time with him.

I know I once said to Dommy that we would never speak of his v-e-r-y s-l-o-w return to his class ever again, but it is a bit of an elephant in the room. Come to 5 minutes to the end of the lesson and I said, "Ok Dommy, If I leave now I can get off the car park 30 minutes earlier than usual. You happy for us to finish now?"

"Yes" he replied. "I know what the car park is like." So we packed up and wandered up the corridor v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y. At the top, he was going right and I was going left. I muttered, "If I get a shift on, I can still get off the car park early." Dommy muttered back, "I can now march back with purpose and still only arrive just in time for the final bell."

Two criminals wished each other a Happy Christmas and cheerfully went our separate ways.

Long may teens continue to illuminate my life.

And you readers, I suspect.

[SteveHopwood]

Meghan and Alice are fellow Y11 students i.e. 15/16 respectively. I do not teach Meghan but she is great friends with a number of the musicians I work with, so I know her. She often sits at the computer at the "teacher's" desk, typing into the machine. She is doing coursework - I have checked. The desk is right next to where I sit teaching the piano, but Meghan is unobtrusive. In fact, she is cute and it is sweet to have her there.

Alice is the student of mine. Highly intelligent. Sweet and cute - just like Meghan. These kids have me exactly where they want me. Just not necessarily good at piano playing.

Alice and I were trying to get her GCSE ensemble performance in the can today - the same duet as Nikki. The Berceuse from Faure's Dolly Suite.

Alice and I made attempt after attempt after attempt to record the damn thing. Teensy mistakes are not a problem; gigantic ones are and derail sending anything useful to the exam board. Meghan was really helpful and I was glad of her presence. "That was really good," she would intone in so many words after each attempt, "you nearly made it that time." Not sure how much more of her coursework got done.

We were into 77 minutes of trying and 3 minutes to the final bell. After that would come a flood of tannoy announcements and no hope of recording anything for at least 20 minutes. This was the last day of term and I am not a fan of torturing the likes of Alice more than I legally required to. OK, so we could have continued as she lives just opposite the school but there is only so much pain I am prepared to inflict on a sweet 16 year old, so we agreed on one final attempt.

The final attempt went really well. We were within hailing distance of the end.

Meghan had been quietly packing up her stuff. She stood up and announced loudly, "Thank you sir. Have a lovely Christmas." She didn't mean to derail the recording. She has no concept of the importance or context of what was happening. Her announcement completely threw Alice and we ground to a halt. Again.

"Have a wonderful break Meghan" I called to her repeating back. Something similar from Alice.

"You too," came the happy response. I really hope she has a wonderful time. How could I not?

Alice and I looked at each other. "Do you believe what just happened?" I asked. "Yes," came the reply, "but I should not have stopped."

I said, "It would be unfair of me to expect you to not be thrown by it. Tell you what. Let's kidnap Meghan, take her somewhere dark, cold, lonely and beat her to death?"

Came the reply, "No. Don't like dark, cold and lonely places. Hate blood. Really hate violence."

Me too, so we agreed to forgive Meghan.

Instead I have booked out an extra afternoon in school at the start of next term to get this bloody duet in the can. I also had to send away Gracie, Amy and Charlie with the promise that they can have extra lessons at the start of next term - a promise that I will live up to.

I will have given up a shed-load of my time to Alice by the time we finally get a decent recording in the can. She has all this time given with joy. Then I still have to make up the time to Gracie, Amy and Charlie. I will do so with joy - I love seeing kids twice in a week.

Nobody reading this who is involved with educating children is wildly applauding and yelling, "Yey Steve. Way to go." There is no need. It is what we do. It is a privilege to be able to do so.

You should try our job folks. You really should.

[SteveHopwood]

Alice and I managed an acceptable duet recording today - good enough to send to the exam board.

It is not a great recording, but Alice is not a talented pianist and it is the best we shall get from her.

Just her solo recording to go now.

It was we three together again as Meghan sat quietly typing into the computer at the teacher's desk next to the piano. This time, she failed to derail the end of the acceptable performance.

-----------

Nikki came for her session just in time to hear Alice and I make the successful recording. All three of the girls are in the same GCSE music group and so know each other well. Alice and Nikki briefly discussed how to avoid going to where Alice was now supposed to be, so whatever it is clearly it is not a favoured thingy.

Meghan packed up and left about 10 minutes later. I asked Nikki, "Do you have any idea what Meghan is doing when she sits at the computer?"

"No."

"Do you think she is skiving something she does not want to do.

<delicious Nikki giggle> "Probably."

"I never send her away, so I am effectively condoning her skiving?"

<another giggle>. "Yes".

"Please don't tell anyone. I quite like teaching here."

<another giggle>. "No".


It dawned on me later on that it must be the same activity that Al and Nikki are always so pleased to avoid. I am seeing Al again tomorrow, so I will try to remember to ask what it is.

[SteveHopwood]

A little story I forgot to add. Dommy again.

He was faffing around to international faffing around standards, so I had gone on to auto-pilot and was not listening to what he was doing.

Dommy made a ludicrous mistake and yet I intoned, "Well done."

He laughed and replied, "Praising that bit of playing is just plain outrageous."

I did a quick mental playback and understood immediately what he meant. Time to crack the whip.

I replied, "Sorry Dommy, I was not listening - nothing worthwhile listening to, after all. Which would you prefer? A warm, happy, loving and endlessly encouraging piano teacher who wants you to have a pleasant time, or a grumpy ole grouch who tells you the truth about your playing all the time?"

Came the instant answer, "Fair point. Please carry on as usual."

Not an idiot, our Dommy.

[SteveHopwood]

It turns out that Megan is merely passing her lunchtime using the computer in my teaching room. Kids below the 6th form are not supposed to be in a room unsupervised, so she takes advantage of a tame teacher to use available facilities.

I am not helping to facilitate a 15 year old engage in minor criminality. Phew.

[SteveHopwood]

I have gaps in my timetable that a hopelessly inefficient school management appear unable to fill. Rather than sit twiddling my thumbs and earning dosh for doing bugger-all, I am devoting the gaps to extra time with existing students and Little Gracie is one of them. She has been doing badly of late.

I had the following exchange with her today, after she played like a drain again. Out came a flood of excuses - needed to look after the dogs/spent a lot of the week at grandad's, homework etc etc etc. Scarcely a hanging offence - we have all done it at some stage. Trouble is, one of the few thingies that drives me nuts is having my time wasted and G's malingering has gone on for a while. Time for some whip cracking. Starting with me:

"Do you remember when we first met sweetheart, that I promised you that no harsh words would ever pass my lips?"

<sensing danger> "Yes sir."

"And that the time to burst into floods of tears is when I announce, 'That wasn't very good, was it?' "

<seeing the oncoming storm> "Yes sir".

"And how last week I described your playing as, 'The dismal playing of someone with no talent who has clearly made no attempt to learn what she was supposed to learn and has as much chance of playing the piano well as does a hamster of becoming an astronaut. You seem to understand that the more over-the-top is my description of your bad playing, the less I mean it and so were not concerned by my reaction.'? "

<absolutely certain of impending disaster> "Yes sir".

"That wasn't very good, was it?"

<shuffle shuffle> "No sir". <no floods of tears though. Good girl. Not entirely sure how long it would have been before I got a decent night of sleep had she done so. Phew.>

"Time to stop making excuses and do some learning angel?"

<clearly aghast> "Yes sir."

Time to stick the knife in. "You are allowed out of class to attend these lessons young lady. I am allowed to put you in detention unless you use them to some benefit. I can always start doing this - without any harsh words." <not a chance. It will never happen, but G does not know this.>

<panic stricken> "Sorry sir. I will do better."

I am not a fan of torturing cute 12 year olds so I replied, "I am sure you will sweetheart. Let's move on....."

Wonderful thingies, kids.

[SteveHopwood]

I wandered along the corridor in school today and came across a year 10 exam achievements board. This is for year 10, or rising 15 years of age - Dommy's year group. He was third in his year at the recent exams. This is out of a year group of about 120 pupils. I am sooooooo proud of him.

Won't stop me calling him a miserable, third rate failure though for not coming top.

You have met Amy before: goes up quite a lot but outwards nowhere at all; gazes at my trustingly out of those huge-rimmed glasses.

Amy is not a confident young lady who hates getting stuff wrong. I am using gaps in my timetable to give extra lessons to kids like her, so I had her booked in twice today.

She entered the room, clearly terrified. She played like a drain, again. This is a child who hates getting stuff wrong so much that she would prefer not to attempt anything that she finds difficult and plead helplessness, than get it wrong.

So I repeated my mantra (leaving out her, "Yes sir" replies for the sake of brevity). "You remember when we first met sweetheart? I promised that no harsh words would ever cross my lips?"

I meant it, but there is a problem. "Thingy is though, that two years from now you will have been required to record your GCSE music performances. What you are capable of playing right now would attract no marks."

I showed her the difference between where she is now, and where she needs to be in two years time. Again (read back a while if just passing by).

So we worked again on the piece intended to meet the most basic of requirements that will gain a few marks in two years time.

There was a bit that Amy got wrong every time she played it, so I snarled, "Do that again and I will rip your arm off and beat you senseless with the soggy end."

Amy had clearly bought into the mantra, and giggled hugely. I have mentioned before that her giggle is accompanied by a smile that I will do a lot to drag out of her?

She got it wrong again. "Which arm do you want to lose?" I snarled. The bell went and it was time for my next victim. "Saved by the bell," she announced, and fled.

Amy returned later. We worked again on this blasted piece. Come the end of the lesson and she knew exactly what to do and only needs to work on playing it with some fluency.

So I growled, "Play this to me perfectly next week or here is what will happen. I will: kidnap you; take you somewhere dark, cold and lonely where your mum cannot find you; torture you slowly to death."

<floods or laughter> "Yes sir". <skips out of the room>

Despite my years of experience, I am not entirely sure how I am going to succeed with this fabulous but tender young lady. I will just keep on trying. Wish me luck. I might need it.

[SteveHopwood]

I have told you folks about my attempts to coax an ensemble duet performance out of Alice, and of our eventual success.

I have not told you about my attempts to coax a solo performance out of her. Nor I am going to; it is too painful to relate. Suffice to say, we eventually succeeded. It is the best she is going to get.

So that is Nikki and Alice with the best that they can do, "In the can". Now, I would love to announce that I can now stop, "Teaching them to the test" and instead concentrate on teaching them to play the blasted instrument.

It ain't going to happen. I would not have needed to, "Teach to the test" if these wretched creatures had been interested in learning to play in the first place. They weren't, and my task is to do the best I can for the child presented to me. There comes a time when, "Teaching to the test" is all there is I can do to help the child presented to me.

These kids are weeks away from GCSE exams that will define the next few years of their lives. These exams will fade into oblivion soon, but not for the next 5 years or so. So, I am allowing the girls to regard their piano 'lessons' as an escape from the pressure relentlessly piled upon them by a mercillous UK, "Education system". Don't get me started. Happily this is a locked thread, so you cannot. I would go on for a looooooonnnnnnnggggggg time.

Here are some events from yesterday. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did and as I told them to Tommaso last night:

Very pleasant afternoon in school. Megan wandered in whilst I was teaching little cutie Amy, and settled herself down at the computer on the teacher's desk next to the piano. I heard her giggle from time to time at my reaction to some of the more insane thingies that Amy would do. Reading the next note as being an octave up instead of just one note for example. I love teenagers' giggles, and Megan's is beautiful.

After Amy came Alice, then Nikki. Alice asked at the end of her lesson, "Ok if I hang around here until my next class? She was only avoiding the faff of going back to, "Silent reading". Amongst the many skills that this highly intelligent young lady possesses is undoubtedly the ability to read, so I agreed.

So, there were three like-minded teen girls in the same room. Such groups are a joy. Nikki and Alice have completed the performance requirements I was preparing them for, so there is no need for them to regard their piano lessons as anything other than a source of light relief. The banter flowed freely.

At one point, Alice announced, "My piano lessons are now my therapy. I only whinge to you. I hope you do not mind." My reply was, "Whinge away as much as you want sweetheart. I am here for your benefit, not the other way around."

Nikki joined in with, "They are my excuse for getting out of PE." She has my total, 100% sympathy. I never attended a PE lesson from the age of 14.

Megan chimed in with, "Your piano lessons are my escape from the rest of the world." She is safe and cared for whilst with me and the rest of the gang, so I am happy to look after her.

I shall make the most of my last few months with these glorious children. They are a very special group of kids.

[SteveHopwood]

I arrived in school today to find 4 year 12 girls (16 to 17 years old) rehearsing a dance routine. There are two large rooms with decent instruments and the one I like best has acres of floor space, so It is perfect for stuff like the girls were doing.

The girls knew what I would say; even so, they made a passably sincere offer to vacate the room. Frankly, I would announce that I would teach in the other room just to see the smiles on their faces but their cute chorus of, "Thank you sir" didn't make it any harder to do.

I wandered back after my first victim had finished her lesson to find just Georgina remaining of the original four. She had been joined by Megan, whose hair had gone from the blonde that I had always known to jet black. "Megan," I exclaimed, "you have changed colour."

It turns out that her natural hair colour is brown and the the blonde was a dye. She decided on a change when the brown roots started to show through.

Men are infamous for not noticing anything different about other people. Georgina chimed in with, "Hey Megan, he is a man yet he noticed your change of hair colour. Calls for a round of applause." So I got my round of applause and returned a little bow.

Gracie came for a lesson. She is a conscientious and impeccably behaved young lady. Gracie would have been my choice if I had to bet on the student never to get a homework detention.

The school has a policy of inflexible sanctions for crimes committed by students. Detention is automatic for not handing in homework. There are two advantages to this inflexibility: the kids know exactly what will happen if they break the law; they learn that actions have consequences and that most consequences cannot be avoided. It is a lesson all kids need to learn and they do not always do so from their parents.

The downside of the automatic and inflexible sanction regime is that it can lead to situations which are manifestly unfair.

Gracie pulled her music folder out of her bag; out with it came a sheet of paper headed, "Notification of Homework Detention." I boggled at it.

"You have a homework detention? You?" Gracie nodded. She has: a brain the size of Mars; diligence to the nth degree; impeccable manners. She has one weakness.

She is dipsy and has the organisational skills of a moth with other thingies on its mind. Gracie once quipped that, "Organisation took one look at me and fled. I am to organisation what anti-matter is to matter."

Gracie explained that there is a piece of Maths homework that is set automatically every Thursday for presentation the following Monday. The kids go onto the homework site to download it. The maths teacher usually reminds the kids but forgot on Thursday. Gracie forgot about it, did not download it and so could not present it. She found herself in the heart-stopping position of being the only one in the room to have committed this crime.

I admit to feeling this is a little harsh on Gracie but rules is rules and kids need to learn that once signed, a contract is binding. Besides, it is a half-hour period of silence in which they are allowed to do some homework, not a week in an underground cell living on bread and water.

Gracie moaned, "I am going to grandad's for tea. By now, school will have texted mum and she will have texted him. He will not be happy. I don't think I shall be going to Guides tonight." Aweeeeeeeeee. I hope she does - I am not a fan of sanctioning children twice for the same offence. I will let you know when I see here again on Thursday.

Hehe. I bet she never does it again.