Thursday 12 December 2013

Life is just one big circle

I had a really amazing experience today. I had a concert with some kids. Now, these kids are from really tough backgrounds. They deal with enormous amounts of stuff - really horrible stuff - and that's before they even get to school for the day. They shouldn't have to deal with this, but it's just their lot in life. These are the children I come home and weep for.

But this post is not about their sadness and rotten lives. This post is what they did today. We had  a concert. The whole school was involved. Year six were ushers, and sound technicians (well, they manned the CD player and adjusted the volume!!), and gofers, and runners. Children drummed, and sang, and played and were proud. These are children who three years ago would not look me in the eye. They would not sing. They were shy and distrustful. Today they sang with their heads up, and their chests proud. They watched, they focused - every one of them was a superstar. I was so very proud of every one of them.

In the craziness of all these rehearsals over the last few weeks, something happened. I had a group of four little year four girls who were a group of soloists. They would sing a verse here and there, by themselves throughout this musical pageant. They sounded beautiful. Two weeks ago, one of these lovely little musicians had her world turned upside-down. Her mum died. I don't know how she died. But I watched this little girl tell me a fortnight ago, and crumble. My heart broke for her. You see, when I was in year five, my dad died. He didn't die suddenly, like this mum, but he was gone out of my life, and my world turned upside-down too. Like I was walking in a snow globe, and suddenly it all flipped. And got turned on its side over and over again. I remember what I felt. And my heart broke to see this little girl having to go through similar stuff. I talked to her about it. And I cuddled her when I saw her.

This school has fabulous pastoral care. Her class teacher is a wonderful, wonderful woman. And she is loved, and looked after when she is at school. And she loves music, and having this to work towards was really great for her.

On Monday I found out that her mum's funeral was on the day of the concert. She said to me at the dress rehearsal that she would be there - 'because I want to. And because mum would want me to.' But I have to say, I didn't believe her.

And half an hour before we were due to start, this little person walked into the hall. She smiled at me and said 'I'm here!'. And she sang her solos. And she drummed. And she was an angel on stage. And I was conducting her with tears in my eyes.

I loved music all through school. I played the recorder, and the flute, and of course the cello. I sang in the choir. I rang handbells. And I remember when dad died I kept playing my cello, and really started to love music more. I was nurtured through this by some fabulous music teachers. I can remember my cello teacher gave me a record of Du Pre playing a 'recital' of all sorts of little cello pieces. I now have that record on CD, and I play it often. And it reminds me of that time in my life. Every time I play my cello I am reminded of my dad. And when I am really vulnerable, I remember being the little girl playing a cello duet with my cello teacher at his funeral.

And now, I was the music teacher, helping a little person who loved music come to terms with the punch that life had dealt her. I was the other side of same coin.

It has been a tremendous honour to work with this little girl, and conduct her today. And it has reminded me of me, and my dad, and all my music teachers, and other teachers who loved me and looked after me.

I wish her all the strength in the world.

Friday 6 December 2013

It's all been said before.......

I've had a pretty gruelling week. Teaching at the end of the year is always really difficult - year 6 children are ready to leave their little pond of primary school and move on to the bigger pond of high school. Everyone is tired - children (who are grumpy), parents (who often make some pretty unreasonable demands at this point), the office staff, the fix-it people around the school, and the teachers themselves. It's a bit like pulling hen's teeth to get anything happening at this point of the year.

And traditionally, this is the time of year for all the school concerts. Groan. And the Christmas carols. Sigh. And all that jazz.

Now, this is the life of a music teacher. In the midst of all the yawns and tantrums you get concerts read to go. That's fine with me. I see it as an enormous challenge to get these children being the best they can. It's expected. And when it all comes together (thanks to the help of all the staff), it's a great thing.

But this year has been quite hard. Not only did someone drive into the back of me this week, and my car then also had a flat tyre one morning, but a few other things were thrown my way by the universe.

A little girl who I teach told me her mum died suddenly. She burst into tears in a rehearsal. It was true- her mum did die suddenly, and she was sent to school soon after. She's a brave little person, and my heart is breaking for her. And what could she manage to do at school? She could manage to sing, and drum, and 'do' music. Other children I teach are going through some really serious family upheaval. And what did they want to do? They wanted to sing, and perform, and have their music lessons.

Now, I am just writing this as a music teacher. I'm sure that art teachers, or drama teachers, or dance teachers would write the same sort of things, but from a slightly different perspective - insert 'acting' for 'music', for example. But why are we taking Creative Arts away from children so often? Why are these the things that are cut when budgets are slashed? Why is literacy and numeracy so more important than healing little peoples' souls?

I am flabbergasted, you know. There have been hundreds and hundreds of studies done about the importance of music educations. I'm sure there are the same amount of studies done with all the other creative art subjects. They heal children. They give them back their sense of self. They feel them with pride. They make them walk taller. They make them smile when there's not much else to smile about. They level the playing field in the classroom. I see this daily.

What more do our power-brokers need to read? Or see?