My specialty is sight singing.
…Teaching literacy to middle school beginners.
I teach it to my students from day 1 of sixth grade. By eighth grade, they are fluent and competent at a level higher than my own when I was a freshman in college. Scheduling limitations cause it to be impossible for me to have a beginners choir for 8th grade.
Inevitably, in a school of 1700 students, an issue will arise in which I must consider bending the rule that beginners can’t join the advanced chorus during their 8th grade year. I’ve tried it. It doesn’t work most of the time. They get frustrated. They never catch up, and they leave without the solid understanding of the material. It’s simply too much for them to absorb.
When I’m asked to consider bending that rule by counselors, administrators or parents, I always say this: “Do you speak fluent French”? The answer is always “No!”. So, then I say, “Joining chorus in 8th grade is like dropping off a 13 year old in France without parents and with no money and being told, ‘Figure it out!’ How do you think that will make him feel?”
The crystallizes it for everyone involved and leads to a productive conversation in which the parent, administrator and child either check in or check out. If they check in, the parent is on board to support the child in this major commitment of catching up. If they check out, fortunately, I share with them that our feeder high school has a beginning chorus program as well as an advanced one and their child can start there.
So, in walks Faiz who just moved to the USA from Afghanistan with his family of 7. This eager 13 year old boy with a changed voice walks into my room during the 4th week of school and he says in broken English, “I want to join chorus. I want to be a rapper.”
Well…you can imagine the thoughts that ran through my head. I thought to myself, “There isn’t a snowball’s chance in…”
Well, you know the rest. I promptly created obstacles. “I need to talk to your mother and you at the same time before I’ll even consider it. …And we don’t rap in here. Sorry. It’s just not my thing.” With his bright eyes, he said, “Ok”. Well, long story short, it took it about 4 failed attempts (misunderstandings due to his poor English), but he got his mother, dressed in traditional Muslim clothing, into my room during my planning period.
I thought…Wow. He really wants to do this.
His mother spoke no English at all. He told me that she understands it, but she cannot speak. So, I rattled off the difficulties he would face if I let him join 5 weeks into his 8th grade year. I shared that he would be in a class of 85 children who were fluent sight singers and that I would not be able to help him or slow down for him. I told him that if he failed the quizzes, he would need to accept the grade.
He didn’t flinch. He translated for his mother. She said something to him. He translated, “She says that she knows I really want to do this.”
So, with 340 students in my program…and knowing that he would likely fall between the cracks….I relented and let him join.
One of my top students volunteered to meet him each morning to tutor him. I thought to myself…”He’ll never show up”. …and with each passing day for three weeks, he did.
He struggled. He didn’t catch up…I mean…You can’t possibly catch up on this much material and so many skills that are built with steady, daily work in just three weeks….but this child kept coming and kept working. It was amazing and it was inspirational.
…and he never stopped wanting to be a rapper.
Here was this child…this child who had probably seen more horrors than I could ever see in my lifetime. He was 13. The US invaded Afghanistan 13 years ago. He had only known that life.
…Here was this child who was so excited to be in this country….the same way my ancestors were excited to be here…they wanted a new life free of something that they felt restricted them in the country from which they came….This young 13 year old who was pushing to better himself and take advantage of all of the opportunities that he has here.
Well…all I can say is that meeting Faiz and having him in my class renewed my spirit. His work ethic made me want to be better. His desire…his focus…his happiness about being a part of the chorus.
The joy I saw on his face when he sang was unforgettable.
If middle school children jump through our hoops, we have to give them a chance no matter how they sing or what they know or don’t know.
Desire matters.
Sundra Flansburg says
Beautiful. Bless the music makers.
Michael J. Seredick says
Commenting as a retired director, I’m thrilled to read this article. So often, the topic is about finding CD rote learning sources. Sight singing was central to my career as well. I had various levels of HS choirs and have a similar story.
I directed at a HS that was a center for kids with disabilities as well as everyday students. One day a special-ed colleague said she had a quadriplegic girl who loved to sing. Could she try SSA choir for a week to see if it was possible, given my high standards for audition, including sight-singing.
Jessie had difficulty breathing, let alone singing. She arrived at rehearsal and was introduced to the other girls. We did our routines and she gave her best effort. All sounds were a monotone groan. The next four mornings, I arranged one on one time with her and tried solfege reputation. She was able to match about four notes. Her smile at that minimal success still remains in my memory.
It was a joy to watch the normal girls visit with Jessie before rehearsal began. They accepted whatever sound she made. In fact, her disability made them realize how much they took for granted with their ability to sing. I vividly recall how the normal singers improved with the addition of Jessie in the room.
After a week, her special-ed teacher asked how she was doing. I told her she had the ability to match about six notes in a treble scale. She said she understood and thanked me for trying to make it work. She also said she would try to explain it to Jessie. I told her that wouldn’t be necessary; the girls and I would be devastated not to have her and I wanted her to stay.
I asked that she keep Jessie the next rehearsal while I explained the situation to the girls. I’ve never seen a more emotional group as I gave that explanation about the possibility of not having Jessie continue. “NO! We have to have her. We don’t care if the music isn’t perfect when we go to contest. I had already made up my mind Jessie would stay, but I wanted to test the waters of how they felt.
We gave about two concerts at the school along with instrumental and other choirs on the program. Everyone talked about Jessie post concert. Yes, they could hear hear unreachable notes, but they were moved to tears at her effort. Soon after, we went to contest and of course received less than top ratings. It didn’t matter. We received a hight human love rating in the minds of all who heard us.
Perfection is always the goal, and I applaud the few directors who try to teach the foreign language we call sight-singing. But perfection and intelligence are sometimes surpassed by the need to be human and love those we teach, even if limited in our art.
Best wishes! Thanks for your wonderful story about the Faiz. I’ll bet he would have loved meeting my Jessie. Different times and different challenges, but another classic example of how we often learn more from our students than we teach. Have a great school year!
Freeman Dryden says
WOW!!!!! What a powerful testimony to the sensitivity of a teacher and the indominatible desire of some young people!