All of us have stories that we tell over and over again. With time, and depending on who is present, the story may be shortened or embellished for effect, laughter, the pulling of heart strings and things of that nature. This week, I would like to share a classic Pat Moeschen story that gets told when I am with some of my esteemed music education colleagues. Because I am also a dope, I thought that you non-music-teacher friend/readers may enjoy a laugh at my expense.
I shall call this segment “from the vault.” Unluckily for you, the vault I mention here is my mind. From time to time, when my memory is firing on all hamsters, and when I remember the combination (1, 2, 3, 4, 5) , I will roll back the stone and give you a peek. Volume 1 takes us back to April of 1995 when I was student teaching….
For those of you who are not in the education business, student teaching takes place during the final semester of undergrad. People who study music, art, and other “special” areas, usually elect to student teach ALL grades from k-12 in order to get state certified at all levels, which increases the chances of getting a job after graduating. SO….I did my student teaching with 6 weeks of high school, then a month of middle school, and another 6 weeks at the elementary level. Essentially, you go to school for extended hours each day, while the veteran teachers throw you into the deep end of the pool by putting you in front of all of the kids to see if you’re going to sink or swim. They usually stay in the room so they can help you if the lesson is not going well. It’s difficult and most of your college training goes out the window as soon as things go sideways and you realize that the kids aren’t going to engage and listen to you just because you’re THE TEACHER. Oh, you also don’t get paid, AND you have college seminars to attend, job applications to fill out AND this is about 80 seconds before you actually get your degree, so when you student teach, you better like it, or else you just obtained a teaching degree for no reason.
Fortunately, I had a great time, and compared to my friends who were also student teaching in other towns, I had the best gig. I was in a district that valued the arts while working with staff who took the whole thing seriously….but not themselves too seriously. For example, this one time….when I was working with a bunch of second graders….
I was not the only student teacher in the school at that time. The second grade teacher also had a student teacher in her room and this young lady was very attractive. Over the course of a few weeks, we had spoken a bit and shared tales of what it is like to ALMOST have your own classroom, but not yet. I was also being funny, sly, and my goofy self, and she was not showing me one bit of interest. I kept all of this to myself, but I was also a stubborn bastard and, at that age, I wasn’t willing to give up on asking Miss Grade 2 for a date. I bided my time, looking for a smooth entry point so she could see how awesome I was at life.
A few weeks in, as mentioned above, I was in that second grade classroom doing a lesson. MY mentor teacher used to sit in the back of the class in a rocking chair (it’s an elementary school thing…remember?) and he always carried one of the big yellow legal pads on his lap to take notes and at times, provide live feedback. If I was going to fast in the lesson, he would write “PACING…SLOW DOWN” in big letters and hold it up behind the kids so I could see it, but they could not. I would get messages like “YOU’RE LOSING THEM” or “GOOD, WORK BOTH SIDES OF THE ROOM” and things like that. It was outstanding feedback in real time. Until it wasn’t.
At this point in my young career, I was always nervous in front of the kids, and the mentor teacher, but when I realized the attractive second grade student teacher was working behind a desk in the back corner of the room, I became even more nervous. In the back of my mind, I also always think I’m on stage, and so I thought maybe I could impress her with my stellar skills in dazzling the younglings sitting rapt on the carpet in front of me.
The lesson continued, and my mentor teacher, with a look of boredom on his face, began to look aimlessly around the room. I knew he had ADHD (he knows too) and I took this as a good sign: he had no feedback for me so I must be doing ok.
Slowly and cautiously he began to write big letters on the yellow legal pad. I continued to teach. After a minute he held it up but it was at an angle and I couldn’t see it. I squinted and still couldn’t make sense of the word. My mentor looked around and held it up higher. Under the word, there was an arrow pointing to the left….
Still being clueless and with 20 little kids at my feet, I read the word out loud:
“BABE?”
I said it again. Babe? A little louder. My mentor teacher quickly pulled the yellow pad down and made a shushing sound, while trying not to crack up. Thank GOD the kids didn’t catch it, but it became abundantly clear that he was joking with me by asking if I thought the other student teacher was good looking. It took me 3 seconds to realize that she had glanced up from her work when I spoke the word out loud. Not good.
Later, my mentor teacher and I sat in his office in hysterics at how stupid I was to actually read the word with my OUTSIDE VOICE. When I mean later, it was just about 30 years ago and we still laugh about it.
Interestingly, later that week at the staff meeting, the other student teacher ignored me and we never spoke again. I don’t blame her, but boy she was a babe.
Stay awesome, stay safe, and stay tuned for more FROM THE VAULT.
Patrick moeschen 