We are all in that mode, aren’t we? Read here how Terminal Degree sees the first few days:
There’s fear in the eyes of the freshmen and transfers. They’re walking around with crumpled schedules, asking for directions, and wandering into the wrong classrooms. One young man was frantic yesterday when I explained that there was no room 110 in the music building. He insisted that his schedule had MUS 110 on it. I had to explain that 110 was the course number, not the location. Other students showed up twenty minutes early to Musical Basketweaving and kept trying to walk into the previous class, which was still meeting. My colleague finally had to lock the door to keep them out, and then they panicked that they wouldn’t be able to get into my class in time.
In another blog, Terre Johnson gives us a fine essay on remembering why we do what we do:
Readers of this blog will all have similar stories of music educators they know. These teachers change lives by infusing them with beauty, and with the ability to create beauty. They teach because they can’t stop teaching. And in a world where education statistics and test scores are most often used as weapons in a war of blame, music educators make schools better and students purposeful.I have two college-aged daughters who are majoring in education, which makes me incredibly proud. As I helped one of them move back to school last week, I noticed a saying she had placed above her desk. It said: “The two greatest days in your life are the day you are born, and the day you find out why.” As school is starting, I am grateful for the music educators I know, and for the day they realized their high calling.
Tim Sharp says