Karlie Kauffeld is a 4th-year music education student at the University of Vermont. Here you can find lessons learned from teaching in the classroom setting, awkward encounters with pretty much anyone, wise words spoken to her, and whatever else is floating around in her brain. Prepare yourself.
For those of you that have finals tomorrow, I suggest you don't read this and continue studying, for you see, I am DONE, and am about to rejoice-and I don't want to feel guilty about rubbing it in your face. So leave this page now.
good.
Today I had my Music Technology final, which was a project in LogicPro. Mine was stupid and made fun of Twilight, yes, I went for the cheap laugh to distract from my inability to use the program. I'm working on figuring out how to upload the file so I can get a virtual cheap laugh from EVERYONE. Boost that self esteem, girl.
Then I traveled to the International Children's School, http://internationalchildrensschool.org/home (Yeah, today I found out that there's a website. Cheggit,) with my co-teachers Becky and Janice. (There was a brief and poorly written post about this from the beginning of the semester, cheggit if you want to know more about what goes on there.) Today was our presentation day. All of the parents came, (which was thrilling because you can learn a lot about a student by watching how they interact with their parents, AND because they are from all different parts of the world so the room was filled with accent gumbo.)
We decided to set up our presentation as a "regular class day," with brief explanations about why we do each activity, (keep pulse, sing in tune, move in time, cross midlines, etc,) for the parents.
It was a hit. The students were marvelous, and so excited to be performing for their families.
At the end of the presentations there was a giant potluck with foods from all over the world, and topped off with a giant cheesecake, woah.
The second part of my day was spent babysitting two sweet girls.
I need to share one moment of the evening.
The younger girl, 18 months, cried when she was left with me...(right...about that self esteem.)
But the moment that she heard a cello being played in the next room, she stopped, and just listened.
It's a powerful thing.
We're lucky to have music in our lives.
Here's something yummy to stop your tears.
Rostropovich plays the Sarabande from Bach's Cello Suite No. 1
PS: Two semesters of college left before I student teach. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN??
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Lagrime mie, Barbara Strozzi
Last stanza translation: "Still I realize that to torment me the more, destiny even denies me death. If that is true then, O God, that is only for my tears does cruel fate thirst, tears of mine, what holds you back?"
YOU KNOW WHAT BARBARA? Your song is torturing me. Pretty soon nothing will be holding back my tears. SO THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
Good Afternoon.
I am sitting in the Redstone Dining Hall, (something I have not done since last Spring when they gave out free muffins at midnight,) trying to write an essay about the differences and evolutions of Arias and Recitatives in Operas. It's not going well for a few reasons-some of the top reasons being; My computer can't connect to UVM internet (I stole Molly's computer to write this,) it seems that I didn't take very detailed notes about Arias OR recitatives, and I am surrounded by chattering college students and dining hall food. Also, I've never been clear about the music being played in this dining hall, even back when it was "Simpson Dining Hall," (yes, for those of you that can remember that far back.)
I wanted to write about the recent lerning experience I had.
I went to a contradance in down town Burlington.
Now, I've contra-danced before...at least I thought I had. At the Governor's Institute on the Arts, http://www.giaofvt.com/, or at my highschool when a delegation of Mongolians came once a year...
but I think I was deceived.
You see, I walked in with pals equally inexperienced, and we immediately knew we were out of our league. We watched as the dancers who got there on time (woops,) spun and looped and jigged around the floor, and I saw fear spread across my pals' faces.
The dance ended and before we could make any sort of move to partner up amongst ourselves a group of long-skirted, flowy-haired women and scraggly-beard, suspender-clad men were bumbling over to us.
As in keeping with the life-long continuous joke, my partner barely came up to my shoulders, but had the power of a Clydesdale horse. The first time he swung me I was absolutely positive I was going to vomit, and am equally positive that had he let go I would have gone smashing into the gym wall. Maybe through it. As we moved down the line he tossed me around and shoved me in the right direction until I had a vague sense of where I was to go, but was often thrown off by him shouting through his wiry beard, "JUST LOOK INTO MY EYES."
The dance ended, my pals and I glommed together, and I saw my facial expression reflected on everyone else's. We had all been tossed, and shoved, and screamed at. It was going to be an interesting night.
I write with pride when I say that each and every one of us went back out there, partnering with strangers who clearly looked forward to this event, perhaps a little too much.
By the end of our evening, we each had gained some instincts about the general direction to head when our partner released us, some were even being total rockstars and spinning the experienced ladies around like nobody's business.
I was merely hanging on for dear life...but I can honestly say that I hadn't laughed that hard in a good while, and it was a marvelous de-stresser. I highly recommend at least trying contra-dancing if you're looking for something to blow your mind.
-Lessons Learned:
-Go with the flow
-Don't think
-Let someone else lead
-Be aware of everything around you
-JUST LOOK INTO HIS EYES.
And this post would not be complete without mentioning that one of the purposes for going to the contra-dance was to bring an out-of-state friend to one final Vermont experience before he goes home.
I'll miss you buddy, it's been fun.
Here's a video that is related to contra-dancing... and will make your heart race if you've seen "Becoming Jane." Maybe even if you haven't.
Enjoy.
I'd have no problem looking into James McAvoy's eyes.
Yes, those were the words from my piano teacher, Sylvia Parker's mouth this afternoon when I saw her hours after I passed the prestigious, "Piano Proficiency Exam." That's right. All of it.
Okay. You caught me. It's not actually prestigious, but it is dreaded by many if not all music students. There is an overwhelming fear that overtakes the body as you climb the steps to Sylvia's office. Some don't even make it up those steps, their knees just simply knock together too hard, and down they tumble. But those who make it take a seat on a shiny black bench perched outside of her door. Waiting...listening...counting breaths, desperately trying to calm their heart beats. My heart doesn't even beat that fast when I run around or jump rope or something. The door opens, Sylvia's head pops out and through giggles she says "Come on in!"
"Okay," I thought, "This will be fine."
As I followed her in and smiled at the other faculty members who'd be judging me she says to them, "Our first victim."
REALLY?
Cliché. And Rude.
But whatever, I passed. Hands shaking like a chihuahua in a snowbank on the side of I89.
(I don't know why that would ever happen.)
For myself and the other music education students passing this exam is the difference between being allowed to student teach, and being forced to change majors at the end of your second to last semester of undergrad.
So you can see why I'm pleased.
GOOD LUCK ON FINALS EVERYONE!
And Congrats to my fellow piano players.
I know you are all anxiously anticipating a blurb about the gallons of wisdom gained from my trombone students... I simply can't wait to spill it out to you...but this post is not going to be about that. Surprise.
As we come pummeling towards the end of the semester, I thought I'd share bits of wisdom gathered from- not necessarily those that I've been teaching- but basically anymore around me, or any situation I find myself in.
Go-Go Gadget: End of Semester
Methinks a list form is best.
No matter how much work you do throughout the semester, the last two weeks will always, ALWAYS make you feel like you should have prepared yourself better. Just disregard that feeling because you will never, NEVER feel prepared for what you get smacked with right before those glorious weeks off in December.
You will start to questions tasks that used to seem simple. For instance, "Why am I hole punching every lesson plan I've ever written and putting them into a binder?" Or "Why must I brush my hair?" or "My sheets seem clean... must I wash them?" or "These noodles are really taking their time in this bubbly water, I just won't eat tonight." You start to prioritize. "I will practice until I get kicked out of the music building, then I will hide under a desk in the total darkness until the security leaves...then I will practice until dawn...then I will buy all of the coffee at Dunks..."
Which brings me to another thing that happens... your brain starts to implode. This is a bad time to go in to be evaluated for ADHD. They will absolutely diagnose you inaccurately during this time because yes, you might as well have ADHD. Your train of thought might be something like the following:
"Golly, these noodles are taking a long time to cook. I wonder if I should throw them at the wall. That's spaghetti, right? But...if it sticks is it done or does that mean it needs to bubble longer? This steam is so warm, I'd love to dive right in, this house is awful. I wonder how much heat is going to cost. I haven't purchased any Christmas presents, do I really like anyone enough to give them a present anyway? What is it about all of these people that is driving me crazy right now? I want to gauge out the eyes of the security guard who kicked me out of the music building last night. Like Oedipus. I should reread some Greek drama. I don't read enough anymore. Reading. Reading music, music...do I even like music? Should I have been a business man? Man?" And to quote Gilmore Girls, you'd end up with, "No, I make a fine woman. Monkey, Monkey, Underpants."
You can see how detrimental this can be to one's productivity.
Beyond the lengths of your "To Do" List, there's always the self-deprecation that begins right around this time... "Why don't I have a mate?" "Why does my hair poke out here and there?" "Why isn't my ten year old brother my best friend?"
BUT WHAT YOU MUST REALIZE...
Is that it's all nonsense. Just get through these bloody weeks, and you'll be back to normal. Don't make commitments to people, don't put anything in writing...you just can't be held accountable for your actions during these trying times.
I AM BORED EVEN WRITING THIS BUT I'M ALSO NOT BORED BUT NOW I NEED TO GO DO WORK SO I WANT TO STAY HERE BUT THAT SEEMS LIKE WORK BUT I'M COLD BLAST THIS HOUSE WHERE ARE THE NOODLES, MONKEY, MONKEY, UNDERPANTS.
I'm currently writing the "Final Reflection" for my Instrumental Music Methods class. This reflection is based on the private lessons I gave to three middle school trombone players. I am a flute player.
I am including the definition of flute for those of you unfamiliar with the Western European Band Instruments. Flute:a woodwind instrument with approximately one thousand buttons, keys, spinny/rolly things, and other stuff.
Now... I'll copy and paste the definition of a trombone so you can compare and contrast. Trombone: a brass instrument that changes pitch by yanking on some tubing. And is unaccessible to those who do not possess the proper lip muscles.
They're pretty different, huh?
Well, I was scared. I wish I knew enough adjectives to describe for you my scared face, but I don't so here, the computer equivalent is this--> :O
I knew the only way I'd be able to teach these boys is to be able to maneuver on the instrument myself. The...beast, if you will.
So began my voyage into trombone land. Not a bad place to be, let me tell ya. First, I got myself a little inspiration, I'll share it with you, do not have worries.
Firstly, "Bonerama." Check 'em out. Now.
Next Trombone Shorty.
And J.J. Johnson.
All of a sudden, it wasn't just, "I should learn to play this so I can give a higher-quality lesson." No, now it was "I need to play this. This instrument...has been dropped onto us from God."
And as I am incredibly religious, well, obviously I knew the next stop I needed to take.
My pal started giving me lessons. It's wonderful. I'm not wonderful, and it's a painful process...but it's fun.
My students were incredible, enthusiastic, energetic, and excited about making music.
More on this to come.
I teach music with my two pals Becky and Janice at the International Children's Preschool in Burlington. There are seven 2-4 year olds in the class from all different parts of the world. Yesterday we walked in, armed with a bag of auxiliary percussion, a giant hula hoop, and a recording of "The Carnival of Animals" by Camille Saint-Saëns (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camille_Saint-Saëns) What we had not prepared our easily-excitable hearts for was that our preschoolers were celebrating Halloween early and wearing a mish-mosh of Disney princess dresses, and the boys in your standard occupation outfits, policeman, chef etc. As they walked around the room moving like fish, sharks, and sea weed to Saint-Saëns' "Aquarium," we three teachers did our best to contain our giggles. Our break through of the day was when the children were able to walk in a circle. While to you and I this may not seem like a difficult task, ( in fact, for my peer teachers and I it was hard to fathom why our activities were flopping,) for this age group it makes sense. Children develop motor skills based on a combination of their brain development and the experiences they have in their environment. For most of the students this is their first time in a preschool, or an organized social group. Children don't often walk in group circles at home...I don't think, and so they haven't had the experience necessary to gain the walking-in-a-circle skill. Our break through came in the form of duct tape. Pieces of it on the floor. In a circle. We made just a start on it, but next week, ohhhh man. I expect that we'll do a little, "pretend that the floor is lava and you can only step on the duct tape." and maybe someday... we'll get special mats for the floor... maybe shaped like something exciting. but you know... small steps. literally. the children are small. that is all, Happy Halloween!
Also, Here's "Aquarium." Practice moving around the room in your own space like a fish, then a shark, then sea weed. And good luck with those circles.
