College Edition: Be The Music While the Music Lasts

College Edition: A blog entry written to the AHS Class of 2017...

"You are the music while the music lasts."--T.S. Eliot

     I've always been drawn to music. In elementary school, the band instructor would bring in all sorts of instruments and allow us to try them to persuade us to join band. I never could get a sound out of a single instrument. It's always bothered me. I remember asking if I could play the triangle because I knew my capabilities and limitations. The band director chuckled and moved on to the next kid, saying he didn't have room for a triangle player in the band. When I was in the fourth grade, I was asked to mouth a line in the chorus instead of singing it. The chorus director announced to the entire chorus that one person was "off key." At the time, I never understood why she asked me to do that, so I obliged. Reflecting on it now, it is another example of how I am not musical despite the fact that I feel like I live in a musical world. I'm drawn to all types of music. Music has been known to make the hairs on my arms stand up and make me cry. It is one of the most powerful forces in my life.

    This summer I had to adjust to a quiet household after 9:00 p.m. My husband was working in Harrisonburg, my children were asleep, and I was left alone in my living room. I was the master of my domain; I could have watched whatever t.v. show I wanted, lounged and read any book of my choice, and yet, I felt so very alone. I turned to music. I constantly played music during the quiet moments in my house. The musicians began to speak to me in ways I had never experienced before. Everything from Khalid to the Beatles (no surprise there) from the Eagles to Ed Sheeran. I always have been that person who has a song in her head. I know that if I had to have a theme song for when I entered the room, it would easily be something like Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror." That song connects with me. I understand the values of that song. I wake up every morning to Tim McGraw's "Humble and Kind." It is an early morning reminder (a 5:20 a.m. reminder for that matter) on how to live my life. I spend 3 minutes and 54 seconds of every day listening to my favorite Beatles song "Let it Be." I am inspired by the idea of Tom Petty's "Into the Great Wide Open." And I constantly am mesmerized by the range of someone like Adele or Whitney Houston, the tenderness of Elton John and Eric Clapton, the intimicy of Jack Johnson, the sounds of Raury. When I get a song in my head, I often can't get it out. For three hours today I had "Despacito" on my brain thanks to my children. Does it surprise you that my son Jack knows all of the Spanish words to that song that I despise? But I digress.

     Last Friday, I woke Jack up for school, and he looked me straight in the eye and said, "I'm not going to school."

     "You're going," I said sternly.

     "I've already done this for five years. I'm not doing it anymore," he said. It was then that I started to panic. What if he remained so headstrong that he completely refused?

      I quickly retorted with, "If I have to carry you to the bus stop, I will." He didn't look amused. But neither was I. When Jack came downstairs, I decided that I needed to change my attitude. Demanding he go to school was not going to fix things but make him even more resistant. So, I turned to music. I started playing the 80's anthem, "Pump Up the Jam." It's a horrendous song, really, but it's upbeat and chock full of lyrics to get you moving in the morning and always brings me back to my eighth grade years. As I danced around the kitchen, Maggie and Katie started to laugh. That's the reaction I was going for. Jack finally looked at me and said, "Mom, you know the food I just swallowed?"

    "Yes?" I said.

     "It's starting to come back up."

      The cleverness and quick wit of that kid never ceases to make me laugh. And all of the sudden music had brought him out of his funk. He may not have bought into the sheer awesomeness of "Pump Up the Jam," but he was smiling...and on his way to school.

     I used to teach with music on a regular basis. Instead of teaching grammar through the traditional textbook like I was supposed to be doing, I printed out song lyrics. My students identified prepositional phrases from the Beatles' "Let it Be." They labeled common and proper nouns in Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire." They eventually started to bring in their own song lyrics. My students were recognizing grammatical patterns in their own music. Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On" helped my students explore the injustices in Antigone and the Notorious B.I.G. came through to study the theme of greed in The Pearl with the song "Mo Money Mo Problems." So when challenged after graduation by Jack Snider to write a lesson around Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here," I was bound and determined to come up with something.

     I ended up using that song on the first day of school to teach not only analysis but my overall message for the year. Students first analyzed the album cover.

Then, they looked at one single line, trying to make sense of it all "chopped up" in a magnetic poetry format.

When given the full lyric, they explored larger themes and ideas, even colormarking the song lyrics.

Students were particularly drawn to the line, "We're just two lost souls living in a fishbowl year after year." Ultimately, I presented my overall message to them for the school year through Pink Floyd's lyrics: Don't be a lost soul living in a fishbowl this year.  I encouraged them as the song suggests to be learners who are engaged and fearless. I stressed the importance of being people who don't let an opportunity pass, people who take chances. The music spoke to my students. They wrote statements for homework that evening about working to escape the fishbowls in their lives, vowing to make the most of every moment. And so lies the power of music.

      "You are the music while the music lasts." I've started to think about this line from a poem by T.S. Eliot a lot this week. What does this mean? Live life to the fullest while your song is being played. It means making the most of every moment. It means taking chances and exiting the fishbowl of familiarity. I found myself this week starting to feel suffocated and overwhelmed. I have a lot on my plate. I told that to someone recently, and he asked if I had carrots. I didn't think it was funny at the time. I actually was slightly annoyed, but I'm laughing now.  If you can't have a sense of humor about life, you really aren't living. Still, this past week I started to question how I can be everything for every person in my life. I was about to lose at this balancing act until I ran a race this morning to support those battling childhood cancer. I didn't want to run this race; I had far more than just carrots on my plate to tackle this Saturday, but a current student encouraged me to run. I never run with music during a race, but felt like I needed music this morning. The first song I heard as I turned to my go-to running playlist was "Man in the Mirror"--my enter-the-room theme song. There's nothing better than hitting the pavement to Michael Jackson. I listened to the words through a fraction of mile 1, and somehow everything seemed to click. "If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make a change." I have control of my own destiny. I am the master of my fate. I am the music while the music lasts.

      I vowed in that moment to make the most of my life, and that's what I want to end on as words for you all as you are finding your way at your new college "homes."  Make the most out of your experience. College will throw you curveballs, and you will forget the lyrics from time to time. That's okay. Live life to its fullest. Take advantage of every opportunity. I will go to work Monday stronger than I was on Friday because I don't want to waste away a moment. How I wish I had never counted the days away in my life.

     So, I hope this gives you an idea of what to do today, of how to live. Take a look at yourself and make the change that seems right to you. Swim outside of your fishbowls. Live life to its fullest. Be the music while the music lasts.

Shipbuilders of the Future: A Message to Begin the 2017-2018 School Year

     In my recent trip to California this past summer, my husband and I found ourselves on a boardwalk of sorts overlooking the San Francisco Bay. The view was breathtaking. There was a World War II ship that resides in the bay that intrigued my husband and me because both of our grandfathers fought in World War II, his serving in the Merchant Marine Academy on a ship similar to the one we saw.

While walking down the boardwalk, my eye caught sight of a sign giving information about the ship, stating how this ship was built in part by high school students. I stood in awe of that fact--a ship built by teenagers. That one sentence really resonated with me. I seriously couldn't stop thinking about it all day.

     Let me backtrack to why I couldn't get that sentence out of my head. When I began my student teaching 21 years ago, one of my friends asked me why she hadn't seen me on campus. When I told her I was student teaching, she replied, "You will be the best kindergarten teacher!" The surprised look on her face when I told her I was teaching high school is something I never will forget. "Why would you want to do that?" she asked me. That age group just inspires me. It is the age where they are coming into who they are as people of the world, where they have the potential to make huge changes and dream big. My teenage years were fantastic in part because of my teachers. Twenty-one years ago, I wanted to be that teacher to show the teenage generation that they matter. Twenty-one years later, I still want to be that teacher. 

                                A young Mrs. Pace in her first year of teaching circa 1997 
                 and a more "seasoned" Mrs. Pace in her 18th year of teaching circa 2017. 
                   The hand gestures and excitement for teaching have not changed.

When asked what I do for a living by people who I don't know, I'm usually received with a look of raised eyebrows and surprise. Whether or not it's intentional, people tend to judge teenagers too much. They assume that all fast driving and reckless behavior are attributed to the teenage population I am inspired by on a daily basis in my classroom. I've seen the stereotypes infiltrate society: teenagers are lazy, ungrateful, and spoiled. They are addicted to their phones and have no motivation except to play video games. Teenagers today get more bad press than any generation in history. Yet from my view, I just can't find the truth in those statements. I see what teenagers are capable of doing. I see their kindness and witness their ideas that have the potential to change the world.

     So, as we begin the 2017-2018 school year, I want to tell you my goals for you--the shipbuilders in my classroom. This advice also can apply to my own children who are in elementary and middle school. I want you to work hard but know that it's okay to make mistakes. That's where true learning occurs. I want you to read the books and write and rewrite generously. I want you to connect with others in the room. Like any classroom, my classroom is a community. In order to be a part of the community, you need to talk with one another. I remember observing a class a long time ago, and the students didn't even know one another's names...and it was May. Get to know one another. Get to know me. Know that I am an avid Beatles fan, but they are not the only band who makes the hairs on my arms stand up when I hear their music. Know that in my eyes, there is nothing more powerful than a handwritten note or a good book or a smile and that most of my thinking and ideas for lessons is done on my daily 5:20 a.m. runs (Yes, I do get up that early). Know that I am passionate about teaching and passionate about being a mom. I think the roles of a teacher and mother are often interchangeable. I am trying just as your parents are to lead you in the right direction--to help you make the right choices.

     I think the hard thing about being a student today is the expectations put on you. You are expected to be the best in school, outside of school, on the fields and the stage, in the community. You are expected to do hours of homework and maintain a job and volunteer all to get into a good college to better prepare you for a career. Yet, in watching students balance all of this like a Jenga game gone wrong, I can't help but question whether or not we are preparing you for the "real" world. What are we teaching you if we pile all of these expectations on who you are? These are questions that keep me up at night and ones in which, unfortunately, I don't have an answer.

     So here's the final thing that I want to tell my students, my children, and anyone else who is a student this year who is willing to listen: Forget about the expectations others put on you. Set your own goals. Realistic goals. Ones that won't compromise your stress level and sanity. Don't try to do something big. Do little things every day. I recently heard that advice when I went to visit my husband's grandfather in Lynchburg  (the same one who served as a Merchant Marine in World War 2) . One of the ladies who stopped to say hello to him told me that and said that she had to retrain her brain entirely after her stroke. She is completely functional now because she didn't try to do it all at once. What a profound accomplishment. What profound advice.

     More than ever, I encourage you to be the best version of yourself on a daily basis. Last year, I introduced my students to the idea of being one percent better than they were the day before. I challenged them to do just that--to find a way to minimally improve their lives every day. The way those students changed and grew was one of the most remarkable things I had ever witnessed as a teacher. They were kinder and more compassionate. And nothing revolved around a test score or a grade. They just did it because they knew that if they lived this way for a year by the end of the year they would be thirty-seven times better. They did it because they cared and put kindness first. They did it to make a difference. So, don't worry about being the smartest or the most talented or the fastest or the student involved in every club. Be 1% better. Be kind. Spread that movement. Be the nice kid who gets along with everyone. Be the nice kid who celebrates the successes of others, who makes good choices. Be the student who the teacher remembers as the nice kid.

     I'm still in awe that the ship I saw in California was built in part by teenagers. I am one of the luckiest people in the world to spend seven  hours each day with such a population. You may tease me ruthlessly about my Beatles-loving, emoji-hating, Taco Bell-loathing self, but you keep me young and make me smile. You make me think. You are the ones who make me 1% better. You are the people who are the shipbuilders of the future. You are my clients--all 149 of you this year--and I will work as tirelessly as I can to get you to improve your writing, analyze texts critically, speak eloquently, but most importantly be better, kinder people and global citizens. Shipbuilders, my classroom is ready for you. I am ready for you. Here's to year 19 of a journey I am thankful for every single day!