What I Know Emotionally (Steve)

Everyone filed in on time. We were working on the B flat scale. It will be their first scale--and it won't be their last. Kaito is still on the pentatonic scale. However, since the euphonium parts for the winter music don't go above concert F, I wasn't too concerned. Alex had the clearest intonation out of all of them, probably from all that singing she does.  The others fell somewhere in between. Caitlyn could tongue precisely, but had trouble with fingers. Adrian was struggling very much with the B flat scale. I took him aside for one on one practice.
         "I just can't get it." He looked defeated.
         "Why not?"
         "I just...can't. This is hopeless." No, it was not. It took me three weeks to get a sound--any sound at all--out of a trumpet. I am not let letting any of my students feel hopeless because they struggle with a scale. Noting that Adrian's face was rather tense, I told him to relax.
         "See if that helps." Adrian played again. I stopped him because he was tensing on the higher notes. It did help. "You got it!"
         "I did?"
         "Yes. That was the best you ever played it." If Caitlin were here to see this, she'd be so proud.

I went on to help Kaito. He seemed to be struggling with the G. I noted that he was pressing the same valve again and again with a blank expression. That was odd. If he stimmed with his instrument, it was usually with the third valve (not the second) and with an intent look on his face. I assisted him with the fingering and air. He moved up with some fracking. However, that was to be expected from all of our brass players at this level.

We moved on to sightreading the piece. Since they apparently had no idea how to subdivide, I ran through everything at a slower pace. That improved things. The flute feature got lost due to the flutes not counting. We worked on that together. They were a little better. It may not have been much better, but it was better. I furthered their improvement to where they were playing a recognizable line and then put it into context.

One of the things I teach is that good should never get in the way of great. Especially at the start of one's musical career, music is all about improvement and advancement. No one can graduate from music like they can from school. We're always looking for ways to put on better shows and wow the crowd. The Tchaikovsky concerto in D major was considered impossible at one point and now it's standard repertoire for every professional violinist worth their salt.

But that's not going to work with my students. Most people are more concerned with their own headache than a widespread famine a million chunks away. I told them they could do it because I knew they could. For the most part, they already had the basics of the piece. It will take them a while to take to the feel of it, but that's an issue across the board for Mindcrack's bands in general. It's all about the right bubble in the right column nowadays. The more academic direction this school is taking might boost our rank, but it's going to strip our students and teachers of their essence.

We counted and clapped some things together, getting that squared away. I worked on getting the right notes from the brass. Alex, with her singers' ear, had very few problems. I had to correct a few of her fingerings, though. Adrienne, however, struggled with distinguishing between half steps and whole steps...or between any pitches at all. Using the tuner app on my phone, I "helped" her distinguish pitches. She was mostly fine with that. I moved on to fingers. Upon closer observation, I realized that she was only partially pressing her valves. I told her to press harder. Her fingers bent backwards at the tips. Yikes. How did I not notice that until now? I didn't know how to help at the moment, so I just moved on. Kiyoshi was in need of a new reed. I helped Aisha with her posture. Everything else was fine, but her posture ruined it. (Darn it, Aisha! I TOLD YOU NOT TO SLOUCH.)

After another run-through, the bell rang. My beginners all filed out having worked very hard. The guitar class will come in and I'll introduce the to their first chord after the break. During the break, students move about as they please to either get things done or not get things done. Of course, like clockwork, Alice came in to practice her symphonic band stuff. I prepared a lunch for her because she would not eat the rest of the day otherwise. I wanted Alice to have her health. Without her health, I didn't know what her mother would do to her. I had the pleasure (rather, displeasure) of meeting her yesterday. She told me that I deserved to die and that I should take, in her words "that little nymph of yours" (referring to Caitlin) with you.

How does Alice live with that? I'm surprised that she hasn't run away, slipped into drugs, or done anything of the sort. After eating the sandwich, she rinsed her mouth with water and began her practice. I noted that she had a tendency to stop phrases in frustration even though her playing was perfectly fine. She came over to me to and asked if there was something wrong with her playing. From what I heard, she was a little flat on one of the low notes, but what middle school student isn't? Alice played for me and she was perfectly fine. I let her know this.
         "I need to tell you something." Alice had a franticness in her eyes.
         "Tell me the thing." Everything that I know emotionally about my students will help me be a better teacher. Seeing that Alice was our best second trumpeter in the middle school band, her role was integral to our band.
         "Well, the reason I didn't play all that well last year was because my mother keeps calling me a tone deaf half wit and it really hurt because it was true at the time. She told me to stop practicing because, in her words, it was clear that I was never going to improve. Even if it's not as true now, it still hurts." She extended her arms forward and I saw that they were covered in fresh slashes. I'd know that sight anywhere. I wanted to break down and cry, but that wouldn't help Alice. I texted the school administration and told them about my concerns. That girl needs a psychologist and she needs one now. I'm not going to waste any time because waiting could mean that I wake up finding a sword in her ribs.