And now, an example of what music aimed at kids used to be like. I like this cheerful little song so much that it took me a while to realize "Rubber Duckie" was probably written as propaganda -- namely, promoting good hygiene.
I'd say the "Kids, take your baths!" message is pretty well lost by the time Little Richard gets through with it.
It's hard to imagine that Little Richard, with his gender-defying makeup and gestures, would be invited on to Sesame Street today. In the comments to this video, someone wrote: "Sesame Street used to be a lot more fun than it is now."
Overachiever's footnote: I'm trying to figure out why the melody sounds so different when Little Richard sings it. Is it because he's using a blues scale?
Monday, April 11, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
The saddest song
[From Chris, originally posted at A Blog About School]
This was choral concert week at our elementary school. I admit that I’m not the biggest fan of these school concerts; the desire to make large groups of children sing in unison just seems a little creepy to me. Making matters worse, the songs often seem to have a propagandizing or indoctrinating purpose. I still get a kick out of my kindergartner’s performance of “I Love to Eat My Veggies” last year. (“I was just moving my lips,” she told me afterward.)
This year, mixed in with songs about penguins and pizza, we heard renditions of “Brush Brush Brush Your Teeth,” “Wash Your Hands with Water and Soap,” and “Drug-Free Me.” (One woman said, “What about all the kids on Ritalin?”)
But even I was unprepared for one of this year’s fifth- and sixth-grade songs, “Why Music?” The song started with some relatively innocuous verses:
Then, one by one, students came up to the microphone to speak these lines:
You know what’s coming, don’t you?
Another chorus, then:
Search the lyrics in vain for any indication that music might be meaningful, fulfilling, moving, beautiful, or fun. We make music because it raises our test scores and gets us awards. Baby Einstein lives!
I have to believe that the music teacher doesn’t actually think that this is why the kids should learn about music. I assume that music funding is so beleaguered that she feels compelled to put these words in the kids’ mouths in hopes of making her case in the only way our educational policymakers might hear it -- which only makes the song even sadder.
Another parent was so bothered by the song that he blogged his own response, with good suggestions for better ways to choose concert songs. (One of his tips: “Just don’t pick songs that nobody in the history of the world, including now, has ever loved!”)
You can listen to an excerpt from the song here. Just click on “Play MP3” -- it doesn’t cost anything, except a little part of your soul.
This was choral concert week at our elementary school. I admit that I’m not the biggest fan of these school concerts; the desire to make large groups of children sing in unison just seems a little creepy to me. Making matters worse, the songs often seem to have a propagandizing or indoctrinating purpose. I still get a kick out of my kindergartner’s performance of “I Love to Eat My Veggies” last year. (“I was just moving my lips,” she told me afterward.)
This year, mixed in with songs about penguins and pizza, we heard renditions of “Brush Brush Brush Your Teeth,” “Wash Your Hands with Water and Soap,” and “Drug-Free Me.” (One woman said, “What about all the kids on Ritalin?”)
But even I was unprepared for one of this year’s fifth- and sixth-grade songs, “Why Music?” The song started with some relatively innocuous verses:
Do you know what music brings to us
As we learn, as we go?
Do you know that music plays a part
In the way we can grow?
Do you know why?
Do you know why?
Why music?
Then, one by one, students came up to the microphone to speak these lines:
Everyone knows that music is part of a well-rounded education.
But did you know that music can improve our learning?
Music can help us make better grades.
You know what’s coming, don’t you?
It can also help us perform better on standardized tests.
Music training enhances brain function.
Music is a core academic subject, just like math and reading.
Music students are more likely to achieve academic honors and awards.
Music students are more likely to achieve higher math and verbal SAT scores.
Another chorus, then:
Music education can help us integrate learning across the curriculum.
It can help us learn to pay attention, persevere, and solve problems.
Music may contribute to a more positive self-concept.
It can help us improve our social skills and teamwork.
It can help us express our feelings in a creative way.
Schools with music programs have higher graduation and attendance rates.
Music students are more likely to plan to attend college.
According to a Congressional resolution, music should be available to every student in every school.
Search the lyrics in vain for any indication that music might be meaningful, fulfilling, moving, beautiful, or fun. We make music because it raises our test scores and gets us awards. Baby Einstein lives!
I have to believe that the music teacher doesn’t actually think that this is why the kids should learn about music. I assume that music funding is so beleaguered that she feels compelled to put these words in the kids’ mouths in hopes of making her case in the only way our educational policymakers might hear it -- which only makes the song even sadder.
Another parent was so bothered by the song that he blogged his own response, with good suggestions for better ways to choose concert songs. (One of his tips: “Just don’t pick songs that nobody in the history of the world, including now, has ever loved!”)
You can listen to an excerpt from the song here. Just click on “Play MP3” -- it doesn’t cost anything, except a little part of your soul.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
What we Teach Kids
Chris has an excellent post over at A Blog About School, about the songs we make kids sing.
I had a conversation with the Local Public Elementary principal many years ago that went like this:
Principal: We have a very advanced music program. Music has been shown to improve math scores.
Me: I think kids should learn about music because it's a basic part of being human.
In a similar vein, my Older Daughter was part of a musical at Local Public Elementary called "It's Saturday!" Some of the lyrics described the kids' joy that the school week was finally over. (Also see a discussion on the old StopHomework site about a song called "Homework Blues".)
What do we teach our kids? We teach them that the only possible reason to learn something is to increase their score on a test. We teach them that it's normal to hate school and homework.
One of my rapidly multiplying pet peeves is a recurring plot that I see on kids' TV shows (yes, my kids watch TV.) This plot revolves around a kid finding some object that she decides must be lucky. The kid decides she needs this object to perform well, then she loses the object but performs well anyway. The message: there is no such thing as lucky objects; only hard work can lead to success.
Adult athletes, actors, and musicians are famous for their lucky objects, clothing, and rituals. Why shouldn't kids be allowed to have the same? Human beings are not completely rational.
What a joyless, driven, competitive world our kids live in.
I had a conversation with the Local Public Elementary principal many years ago that went like this:
Principal: We have a very advanced music program. Music has been shown to improve math scores.
Me: I think kids should learn about music because it's a basic part of being human.
In a similar vein, my Older Daughter was part of a musical at Local Public Elementary called "It's Saturday!" Some of the lyrics described the kids' joy that the school week was finally over. (Also see a discussion on the old StopHomework site about a song called "Homework Blues".)
What do we teach our kids? We teach them that the only possible reason to learn something is to increase their score on a test. We teach them that it's normal to hate school and homework.
One of my rapidly multiplying pet peeves is a recurring plot that I see on kids' TV shows (yes, my kids watch TV.) This plot revolves around a kid finding some object that she decides must be lucky. The kid decides she needs this object to perform well, then she loses the object but performs well anyway. The message: there is no such thing as lucky objects; only hard work can lead to success.
Adult athletes, actors, and musicians are famous for their lucky objects, clothing, and rituals. Why shouldn't kids be allowed to have the same? Human beings are not completely rational.
What a joyless, driven, competitive world our kids live in.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
"We're In it For the Kids"
(From I Used to Think ... And Now I Think, by Richard Elmore.)
I blanch visibly when I hear educators say, “We’re in it for the kids.” This phrase is a monument to self-deception, and, if I could, I would eradicate it from the professional discourse of educators. Public schools, and the institutions that surround them, surely rank among the most self-interested institutions in American society. Local boards function as platforms and training beds for aspiring politicians. Superintendents jockey for their next job while they’re barely ensconced in their current one. Unions defend personnel practices that work in a calculated and intentional way against the interests of children in classrooms. School administrators and teachers engage in practices that deliberately exclude students from access to learning in order to make their work more manageable and make their schools look good. All of these behaviors are engaged in by people who routinely say, “We’re in it for the kids.”
... To say that the adults in public institutions “represent” the interests of their clients — children and families — is self-deceptive and irresponsible.
I blanch visibly when I hear educators say, “We’re in it for the kids.” This phrase is a monument to self-deception, and, if I could, I would eradicate it from the professional discourse of educators. Public schools, and the institutions that surround them, surely rank among the most self-interested institutions in American society. Local boards function as platforms and training beds for aspiring politicians. Superintendents jockey for their next job while they’re barely ensconced in their current one. Unions defend personnel practices that work in a calculated and intentional way against the interests of children in classrooms. School administrators and teachers engage in practices that deliberately exclude students from access to learning in order to make their work more manageable and make their schools look good. All of these behaviors are engaged in by people who routinely say, “We’re in it for the kids.”
... To say that the adults in public institutions “represent” the interests of their clients — children and families — is self-deceptive and irresponsible.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
How Many Handshakes?
The previous discussion reminds me of a radio show that the Head of School at Natural Friends did last summer. As an example of the kind of deep problem that kids at Natural Friends might work on, he offered, "there are three people at a party. How many handshakes?"
I was completely baffled by this the first time I heard it. How the heck would I know how many handshakes? There are too many possibilities for a divergent thinker like myself.
There might be zero handshakes, because everyone in the room is germ-phobic.
There might be hundreds of handshakes, because it's a meeting of the Obsessive-Compulsive Handshakers Support Group.
If two of the three people are married to each other, they wouldn't need to shake hands, so there would be two handshakes (the husband and wife each shaking the third person's hand.)
If two of the three people are Orthodox Jewish men (not allowed to touch a woman other than their own wife), and the third is an unrelated woman, the only legal handshake would be between the two men.
Or it could be that each person shakes every other person's hand exactly once, in which case you have three handshakes.
That last possibility is actually the preferred one; the handshake question turns out to be a classic problem. For the problem to work as intended, it must be assumed (or better yet, stated) that each person shakes every other person's hand exactly once.
The problem is fairly sophisticated; as you add people to the party, you wind up taking the sum of an arithmetic series. I think it would go right over the head of a kid brought up on the thin gruel of Trailblazers Math.
I was completely baffled by this the first time I heard it. How the heck would I know how many handshakes? There are too many possibilities for a divergent thinker like myself.
There might be zero handshakes, because everyone in the room is germ-phobic.
There might be hundreds of handshakes, because it's a meeting of the Obsessive-Compulsive Handshakers Support Group.
If two of the three people are married to each other, they wouldn't need to shake hands, so there would be two handshakes (the husband and wife each shaking the third person's hand.)
If two of the three people are Orthodox Jewish men (not allowed to touch a woman other than their own wife), and the third is an unrelated woman, the only legal handshake would be between the two men.
Or it could be that each person shakes every other person's hand exactly once, in which case you have three handshakes.
That last possibility is actually the preferred one; the handshake question turns out to be a classic problem. For the problem to work as intended, it must be assumed (or better yet, stated) that each person shakes every other person's hand exactly once.
The problem is fairly sophisticated; as you add people to the party, you wind up taking the sum of an arithmetic series. I think it would go right over the head of a kid brought up on the thin gruel of Trailblazers Math.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Which Two Go Together?
Today Younger Daughter ("YD") was working on a test with her Speech Therapist ("ST"). The conversation went like this:
ST: Here's three things. Which two go together? Egg, apple, banana.
YD: The egg and the apple.
ST: Why?
YD: They're both round.
That's officially a "wrong" answer, of course. The "right" answer is "the apple and banana go together, because they're both fruit."
Gifted kids often get questions like this "wrong", because they have creative minds that can justify any answer. Another answer that I personally feel is correct is "the egg and the banana go together, because you only eat the inside."
The speech therapist told me that another question younger daughter got "wrong" was "which two go together: cee, three, and em."
Me: What's the right answer, cee and three, because they rhyme?
ST (startled): No, it's cee and em, because they're both letters.
YD's answer was "cee and three, because they're round." (I sense a pattern!)
ST also told me that YD is above average in her ability to follow directions. I demand a recount!
ST: Here's three things. Which two go together? Egg, apple, banana.
YD: The egg and the apple.
ST: Why?
YD: They're both round.
That's officially a "wrong" answer, of course. The "right" answer is "the apple and banana go together, because they're both fruit."
Gifted kids often get questions like this "wrong", because they have creative minds that can justify any answer. Another answer that I personally feel is correct is "the egg and the banana go together, because you only eat the inside."
The speech therapist told me that another question younger daughter got "wrong" was "which two go together: cee, three, and em."
Me: What's the right answer, cee and three, because they rhyme?
ST (startled): No, it's cee and em, because they're both letters.
YD's answer was "cee and three, because they're round." (I sense a pattern!)
ST also told me that YD is above average in her ability to follow directions. I demand a recount!
Neither Fish, nor Flesh, nor Good Red Herring
Every school my kids have attended so far is neither truly progressive, because kids have very little choice in what they do, nor truly traditional, because the academic content is so weak.
Even curricula that are marketed as "progressive", like Trailblazers Math, contain all the worst aspects of traditional ed: bad homework, scripted lessons that kids are relentlessly marched through, and authoritarian pronouncements on how problems may be solved (no standard algorithms!)
It seems to me that the biggest stumbling block that prevents schools from achieving true progressive ed is simply this: control. To be truly progressive, to allow students as much freedom and autonomy as possible, just goes against the grain for educators. School is a place where kids are told what to do.
The biggest stumbling block that prevents schools from achieving true traditional ed is a pervasive lack of interest in real content. Professional-class parents are often more concerned about college admissions than learning. Too many educators don't know what real content looks like, and mistake activity for engagement.
Even curricula that are marketed as "progressive", like Trailblazers Math, contain all the worst aspects of traditional ed: bad homework, scripted lessons that kids are relentlessly marched through, and authoritarian pronouncements on how problems may be solved (no standard algorithms!)
It seems to me that the biggest stumbling block that prevents schools from achieving true progressive ed is simply this: control. To be truly progressive, to allow students as much freedom and autonomy as possible, just goes against the grain for educators. School is a place where kids are told what to do.
The biggest stumbling block that prevents schools from achieving true traditional ed is a pervasive lack of interest in real content. Professional-class parents are often more concerned about college admissions than learning. Too many educators don't know what real content looks like, and mistake activity for engagement.
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