Stories from the Music Room

So, where to start? How about the beginning?

Student teaching 101: Elementary students are scarier than high school students (according to high school teachers)

I am about to live the dream of every aspiring educator. I am about to teach my first real lesson to a room of enthralled fourth graders. Okay, maybe they were more like squirrels confined to a two-foot by three-foot chair. Either way, they were there, and by some miracle, they were fairly quiet.

As I start the lesson, the room door flies open, and a blur comes barreling into class full throttle. The boy slams down into an empty chair hard enough to slide it along the standard blue-colored schoolroom carpet, you know the one I speak of. The worn-thin threads of orange and red were woven through. So uncomfortable to sit on, you would not put it in your enemy's home, and its real purpose is only to contain the noises of the children confined in its space from making the teacher and others outside the space go deaf.

Back to the story: While gripping the sides of the chair with a death grip, this boy proceeds to wrap his legs around the front legs of the chair. He slouches down and just glares at me.

Now, I look at him, then turn and look at my Mentor, who is giving me a blank stare, then back to him.

"Okay..." I think, scrambling to collect my scattered thoughts. "Moving on."

I pick up where I left off, only losing a few of the students tot he distraction and immediately stopped again as an aide, (An adult whos literal job is to chase down the feral ones and try to help them learn how to survive in society.) making a beeline for the student who is still wrapped around his chair like it was going to save him.

"Come on." The aide stood behind the chair, tapping the boy on the shoulder. "You were naughty today, so you do not get your reward. No music class for you."

I kid you not, this boy looked her dead in the eyes when he spoke. "No. I like music. I am not going back."

Now, this was still a time when an adult could pick up a student if needed, and this aide decided it was needed. She stepped behind him and wrapped him in a bear hug from behind, and lifted.

In the next ten seconds, this boy screamed in her ear, fought to get loose from her vise grip, and turned to me, screaming,

"Help me!"

I then watched as this boy, with all the moves of a pro-wrestler, realized I was not going to help him and proceeded to use his legs to flip the chair out from under him, flinging it with the power of a weightlifter directly towards my head.

After side-stepping the flying blue missile, I watched the aide remove the boy and then looked at my mentor, who was chuckling in the corner. Unsure of what to do, I merely picked up the chair and continued with the lesson.

After the class was gone and the day concluded, my Mentor looked at me and said the following:

"Welcome to teaching elementary. There is always a surprise waiting for you."

I will never forget my first 'real' lesson. I am telling you, you can't make this shit up.