They were that class. Every Tuesday and Thursday. At 1:50 p.m., they would round the corner and walk down the main hallway of Waveland Elementary towards the music room. Their teacher, Mr. Rick Petry, led his sixth grade class of 18 students towards me, stopping occasionally to turn around and give them that “You’re in the hall, quiet,” look, to which they would immediately respond. Every Tuesday and Thursday, I dreaded that time of day. And it had nothing to do with their behavior. They were smarter than me. They knew it. I knew it. They knew that I knew it.
Let me give you some background first before I tell my story. I taught Music at Waveland and New Market Elementary from 2004-2008. I was fresh out of college and very interested in Orff Schulwerk, a unique approach to teaching music where the children are actively involved in the music-making process. Waveland and New Market had only a few instruments at the time. For the first year, I would combine both schools’ instruments in my car each morning and take them to the school I was at that day so that each child had their own instrument. Thanks to the superintendent at the time, Dr. Lewis, and a very generous School Board member, Mr. George Spencer, by the end of my second year, each school had complete sets of instruments for me and the students to use.
For three years, I pretended to know what I was doing. Seeing the kids twice a week for forty minutes was huge in that I felt I was getting them to where I wanted them to be as far as curriculum and skills in half the time. My third winter program at Waveland felt more like a program I wanted to present, and everything felt like it was coming into place. We had rhythmic speech, body percussion, instrumental pieces, singing … I was becoming confident as a teacher.
But then that class came. They had been my students since they were third graders, and they had always been an enjoyable class. Great attitudes, good humor, and willing to try anything I asked them to. But now they were sixth graders. They ruled the school now. And they made sure I knew it. The confidence I had going into that fourth year was all but dashed on the first day of school. What happened during that final year at Waveland changed me and my teaching, and I will be forever grateful to those 18 students.
When we talk about our career paths, we always mention the teachers that guided us along the way. The teachers that inspired us, taught us, mentored us. I am no different. I can list names all day of those who have inspired me along the way; who have taken me aside and talked curriculum, process, and next steps. But we all know that that can only get us so far. We can go into a classroom with all the knowledge, but you are on your own when it comes to the application. It is your students who make you the teacher you are. It is them who teach you how to teach.
So on the first day of school, Mr. Petry walked his sixth graders down the hall towards the music room. I had spent the whole previous week on my lessons and was pretty sure I had a solid plan for the sixth grade. Again, I had had this group now for three years, and they were always great, so I should not have been surprised by them when they entered my room. But I would be lying if I said that I was not totally thrown off guard on that first day of school. We worked through the lesson. They did everything perfectly. The dance? Perfect. The body percussion exercise? Had it learned in two repetitions. The instrumental piece we worked on? Melody and accompaniment mastered. They left smiling, happy, laughing. “See you Thursday, Mr. Southard!” The catch? This lesson was supposed to last through two lessons. That WAS my Thursday lesson. They had just blown through it like it was nothing. And they were so proud of themselves because they knew they had surprised me!
Thursday. New dance, new body percussion, new piece. Check. Check. Check. They all smiled at me with that “Impressed right?” look. But then it was Korbin who spoke up. “What about the piece we did Tuesday?” I had no answer. “What about it?” “We’re not done with that are we? We all talked and we liked that piece.” Everyone, I’m not making that up. Those were her exact words. “We all talked about it.” They walked out again, smiling, this time with a “We’ve given you a challenge…see you Tuesday,” look. And that is how the entire year went. They pushed me. Every time they came down the hall, I knew I had better have a great lesson with possible extensions, or they’d call me on it. And what was wonderful about them, was that they were great kids. Exceptional kids. Always asking what was next with pure innocence and excitement. They would help each other in ways I had not thought of, and come at patterns and forms using approaches I had taught them in other lessons where I would have never seen the connections. They would talk about the music lesson during other parts of the day and then come back with a “What if we did this instead?” or “Could we change that one part?” Occasionally, I’d even get a “If you would’ve taught it like this, we would’ve gotten it!” Always said with a smile and sideways look because they liked to give me a hard time.
They were the first class with which I attempted Street Song. (Street Song is a very complicated piece with nine different sections of music) We all really worked together on that one. My snare drum player would get his pattern right every other time. I figured that out about a week before the program. So, on the day of the program, I secretly made sure to end our rehearsal on a time where I assumed he’d struggle. And he did. “Mr. Southard, I messed up, can we try it one more time?” I told him, “Nah, you’ll be fine, I promise.” And of course, he nailed it.
I was asked recently to write an article with the theme “Be,” and that is why I’m telling this story. That group of students let me be a new teacher. They let me be a teacher who did not know everything. They let me be a teacher who was learning how to teach. If a lesson didn’t go the way I planned, they let me figure it out without acting out, without bad attitudes, and without feigning boredom. They were patient with me as I learned. They were wise beyond their years, and it was the 2007-2008 Waveland Elementary sixth grade class that taught me how to teach. When they left to go to the junior-senior high, I too, left Southmont schools. A closer-to-home opportunity came up and I’ve been there since. But, there hasn’t been a school year since where I don’t think back to Waveland Elementary and the lessons that those sixth graders taught me. They may or may not remember me and their music class for four years, but they will always hold a special place with me and the impact that they had. So to Nick, A.J., Adriane, Kimberly, Meagan, Sierra, Logan, Aleascha, Hailey, Jade, Josh, Tristin, Korbin, Joe, William, Sierra, Shannon, Shyka, Stephanie, Shilo, and Matthew — Thank you. Thank you for letting me be your music teacher. And thank you to the staffs of Waveland and New Market elementaries for allowing me to be a part of your school for four years.
