A Little Project Called Music Videos

I don't mean to brag, but I have discovered the way to keep sixth graders engaged (and my sanity preserved) through the end of the school year. I'd like to introduce you all to a little project I like to call, "Music Videos." I should come up with a snazzier title, but it's the end of the year and I'm tired.

I made up the music video project during my first few years of teaching, before I even owned, a camera, an iPad, a Smartphone, or anything on which to record the kids. MTV and VH1 actually showed music videos at the time, and YouTube didn't exist. The students acted out their videos for their classes, and checking a song for appropriateness was a matter of praying that the CD jacket had all of the correct lyrics printed.

I am more twenty-first century now. I actually record the videos for posterity and share them on our school's Google Drive. I can find almost any lyric to any song via the good ole InterWebs, not to mention look up the meaning of most of today's slang terms because, let me tell you, there are some doozies.

What began as a "do-your-own-thing-while-Mrs.-Duggan-cleans-out-her-files" project at the end of the year thing has taken on a life of its own.

Now that it has become tradition, the sixth graders ask about making music videos at the beginning of the year. The younger kids look forward to watching them the last few weeks of school. The fifth graders ask, "Do we get to make these next year?"

The parents know all about the project now and ask me to send them access to the files every year. Last year, several kids and parents were upset because the videos weren't shown at the special sixth grade breakfast celebration. One parent has already assured me that she is in charge of setting up everything properly this year.

The sixth graders spend their lunches, music class times, or any available common breaks in my room making videos. In other words, sixth graders, girls and boys alike, choose to hang out in the music room every day until the end of the year. It is the cool place to be.

I had an extremely theatrical group of sixth graders this year. Last year, my sixth graders made twelve videos. I thought that was good, and they were fairly well-prepared and creative.

This year, I recorded twenty-six videos. I haven't had a lunch break for two weeks.

They created their own props. They wore costumes. They acted out entire scenes.

The other morning, one boy dragged a refrigerator box into my room.

"Can I use some scissors? I need to make a car for my video."

Three groups made Star Wars-themed videos. One boy even created a "special effects" model with Legos and a mini Death Star.

"Man, my old school digital recorder just isn't cutting it anymore," I told my husband, Dan, the other night. "I should have asked for an HD video camera for my birthday."

Then there were the sentimental videos. Four of my girls sang One Direction's “History.” (We changed the mini bars and champagne references.) I had sweet-voiced soloists who sang Taylor Swift's “Safe and Sound” and the Nightcore piece, “Sad Song."

“You girls made me cry," I said as I turned off the recorder. "These songs are about the friends you’ve made through the years, saying goodbye, and moving on.”

“That’s why we chose them,” the girls said, "for the memories."

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Folk Dance Week (RE-POST from 5/24/14)

This is a post I wrote two years ago about one of my favorite annual traditions. I decided to post it again because the P.E. teacher with whom I have been collaborating all of this time is retiring. We have been quite emotional about this final Folk Dance Unit of ours. This year, I would add that our fourth and fifth graders were some of the most enthusiastic square dancers we have ever had. The were such a joy. What a great and meaningful end to our year! Enjoy the re-post!

Teachers often need a pick-me-up around this time of the year. I find that focusing on the most entertaining aspect of my career—the kids—is a good way to maintain my sanity (or insanity?) during the last few days of school.

This is for my teacher friends, especially you music teacher friends. We all need to remember the positives in our profession from time to time.

Around the last two weeks of school, the P.E. teacher and I combine our classes and teach the kids old-fashioned longways set dances and square dances. Once we get past the initial "Eww! I'm not holding his/her hand" (which doesn't last long for us veteran teachers), it's actually a delightful way to close out the year.

1. One of the older boys had to be my partner the first day. He moaned and carried on in the beginning.

"Admit it. You dig being my square dance partner."

"Nooooo . . . "

Yesterday, after square dancing all week, he ran over to me and said, "Mrs. Duggan, come on. You were my partner the last time!"

2. We combined my kindergarten class with the fifth grade P.E. class. One of the most difficult students exclaimed, "Yes!" when he saw the little kids walk in. A couple of minutes later, he was enthusiastically do-si-doing with a girl who came up to his hip.

3. Throughout the week, girls started wearing "flippy dresses" to folk dance classes.

4. When one of my third grade classes realized they couldn't dance in the gym due to scheduling differences, they were very disappointed.

"But we only got to dance once, Mrs. Duggan!"

So we shoved the risers back and spent the class folk dancing in my oddly shaped music room.

5. One of my students was having a bad morning the other day.

"Oh well," she said. "At least I have folk dancing to look forward to this afternoon."

BONUS:
This isn't specifically about folk dancing, but it was a hilarious end to our week. At the end of our final session, we mentioned that we would be out of school this Monday for Memorial Day. Our assistant principal was dancing with us that afternoon (because our administrators love folk dance week too).

The kids turned to the assistant principal and said in unison, "Thanks, Mrs. Anderson!"

"Wow!" she said, as we cracked up. "They think I have a lot of power!"

"Yeah," I said. "They think you're like God or something!"

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The Choice Basket

Last week, I created a choice basket in my classroom. I asked my students to think back on all of the activities, songs, games, and dances we had done all year long.

"Pretend I am a genie, and I am going to grant you one wish," I told them. "What is the one thing you would choose to do again before this year is over?"

Alright! I thought slyly. Now I am going to find out how awesome I am at making my curriculum fun!

Not so fast, Mrs. Duggan.

All my students wanted to do was sing Christmas songs and have "game days."

My classes earn "game days" after they fill up the behavior chart with stars. I set up centers around my room, and the kids get to choose from about ten different activities.

The younger kids wanted to perform all of their Winter Program songs again. In other words, they wanted to sing "Hip Hop Elves" and "Rudolph" in the middle of May.

The sixth graders wanted to make music videos, an MTV-inspired (I'm from Generation X, remember?) project I do during the last few weeks of school to keep those older kids from ruining my life. They have been asking about it since the beginning of the year. Forget everything I taught them about the Baroque and Romantic Eras. Now the fifth graders have already started asking if they get to make videos next year.

You can see where all of the wonderful standards-based lessons, that took me so much time to research and develop, rate.

One student did say she wanted to play the "Families of the Orchestra" again, an assessment I made into a game with fly swatters. At least one of my kiddos likes to learn.

After the final choir concert, I did a similar thing. I asked my third graders, who will be the right age to join choir next year, what songs they liked the best. It's a sneaky trick I like to call, "Making Sure I Choose Choir Repertoire the Kids Will Like."

Almost every single third grader said, “On Top of the World” without hesitation. I had tracked down a decent choral arrangement of the Imagine Dragons song as our one pop standard to keep the kids' interest, but all of our other music was much more artistic and technically difficult.

Then, out of the blue, one little girl raised her hand and said, "I liked the piece you sang in French the best."

"Oh yeah, me too," the other students agreed. "That piece was also cool."

There we go. Finally. Maybe these kids are developing an appreciation for high art after all.

The Choice Basket

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How a Couple of Clumsy Incidents Could Be the End (Part 2)

Longtime readers of this blog will recall that I have written posts about clumsy incidents in the past. Well, lucky you! I have yet another story to share.

During my most recent theater production, I did (what is now being called) a "Charlie Brown" backstage. If you can imagine attempting to kick a football, only to have it pulled away at the last minute, and landing flat on your back, you know what a "Charlie Brown" is.

The only difference was, there wasn't a football, and I'm not a cartoon character.

When the show opened that night, I thought my biggest problem would be winding up naked onstage. My dress had a defunct zipper that popped four times before curtain. Eventually, one of the costume helpers pinned me into the dress . . . really well. The zipper didn't even pop when I "Charlie Browned."

After one of my first entrances, I was walking backstage to help change another character when both of my feet slipped on my ballgown costume and slid out from underneath me, causing my body to land in this order:

Tailbone, elbow, head.

I hopped up as quickly as I could, wanting to reassure everyone in the crowd quickly assembling around me that I was okay. I was in pain, but I felt very fortunate that my Gibson Girl wig had acted as a football helmet and had prevented me from getting a concussion.

I know this because I did get a slight concussion when I was seven. I was walking out of the grocery store with my mother, and I tripped and hit my head on the concrete. I couldn't remember my name, phone number, or address for a short period of time, and all I wanted to do was sleep.

I was alert, so I knew I didn't have one of those again. In fact, my adrenaline was pumping, and I was talking really fast, like I do in awkward social situations.

We had two former medics backstage, another serendipitous occurrence, and they were able to check my elbow for breaks. I spent my times offstage icing my elbow.

The next morning, my tailbone and lower back hurt the worst. The morning after that, the whiplash in my neck won the most-painful-part-of-my-body award.

One of the women in the show brought me some essential oil products the day after my "Charlie Brown." She made me drop my pants and proceeded to rub the stuff all over my ass. It was very soothing.

I have been living on Advil, Deep Blue, a kind of oil-blend Icy Hot, and white fir essential oil ever since. I have a gross black and purple bruise on my butt. My husband, Dan, calls it my "tramp stamp."

I'm getting better though. It's been a week now, and I think I might finally be up for a run this weekend.

One of my fourth graders was talking to me about head injuries the other day. I'm not sure why we were discussing this subject, but it seemed appropriate after my week.

"I'm surprised I haven't had a concussion," she said dramatically. "I've hit my head sooo many times!"

I sighed and rubbed my back.

"Careful what you wish for," I warned.

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