It’s a touch icy underfoot! We have an outreach visit at 10am. Busy, busy just how we like it!
Just so we’re clear, the final two expressive arts, music and drama were both subject to my unique lack of skill.
I took piano lessons for a few years. For what reason I really am not sure. The poor lady teaching me was beyond accommodating, she taught me to read music most likely because that involved me not touching the keys! I did have numerous scales to practice, at home! My mother knew when I was slacking because of the lack of strangled sound emanating from the poor piano wires! We persevered far longer than necessary or healthy!
I cannot and will not sing. It is impossible for me to hold anything resembling a note let alone a tune and I have no desire to inflict that amount of pain on unsuspecting animals. Unfortunately, later in life, I was entrusted to prepare a class of six year olds for the centenary celebration of their school. The theme was music through the decades. We were assigned the sixties and the music teacher created a medley of popular sixties songs. So far, so good! My only responsibility was crowd control because this class consisted of a good number of children who had their own individual psychologists. In other words, they were rather tricky and prone to outbursts! I adored this class. Did I mention that the musical instruction was the responsibility of the professionally trained music teacher? Until it wasn’t. She fell ill, I then felt far iller when I realized there was no back up and that the responsibility for the medley for the hotly anticipated centenary celebration fell to me. Rising to the challenge and armed with the cassette tape of the music to sing along with, I started daily renditions of the required music. I was exceptionally pleased with our dedication and progress….
I was selected to give a talk to teachers regarding the methods I used to engage, motivate and suppress children with divergent behaviors in a classroom. The Headteacher was delighted, this was quite the honor to be selected. Me, not so much. This did, however, relieve me from singing for a day! The Headteacher was a proud member of her church choir and would step in to cover the activities. I went, I saw, I talked about classroom organization and management of behavioral issues then returned to the school to prepare for the next day. The HT met me at the entrance, flustered and displaying lots of handwringing. Last time I left this class the substitute teacher had a knife ‘incident’. I was sure no such thing could possibly occur with the HT firmly in charge? Turns out, in her mind, it was far worse. A catastrophe, a monumental disaster, we were doomed and beyond hope. Oh dearie me, what could possibly be wrong? Apparently, the day had gone quite splendidly, the class was well organized, independent in their routines and peaceable until the last thirty minutes swung round. That thirty minutes had presented a traumatic event that overshadowed the whole day. She asked them to run through their medley and what occurred caused so much offense to her aural tubes that she was all afluster. Yes then knew the words, yes they were enthusiastically singing, the actions were joyful and faces gleeful…. The singing was flat. Clearly this news was not received by me with the required amount of shock and horror. I was still waiting for a cataclysmic revelation. FLAT, FLAT, FLAT. As in 2-D and not 3-D? This would not do, she would need to take over their training to remedy this horrendous calamity. I carefully schooled my face to display understanding and concern. Inside relief and joy was bubbling while angels were singing in the most glorious flat and off key manner imaginable!
I was relegated to set design as an area that even I couldn’t mess up. Remember the orange, silly assumption to make! I found a grandparent with artistic abilities and the time to help. We were home and dry!
The singing practice was returned to my care with one caveat. I was, under no circumstances to allow any sound to come out of my mouth. In order to start the singing, I stood in front of the children, took an exaggerated deep breath in and opened my mouth and they then sang like angels! Not one sound from me to derail their sweet voices! When we progressed to on stage practice, the HT would wander in and give me the hairy eyeball to make sure not one sound passed my lips!
Our part of the concert was exuberant and a tremendous display of class unity and personalities. I couldn’t tell you how they sounded because they always sounded good to me!
