15 Years Later

It seems to be the question that so many ask around this time of year, "Where you when 9/11 happened?" This question often brings on a full range of emotions, from sadness to rage and everything in between.

Where was I that day? When the first tower was hit was in my 1st Hour 7th Grade Girls Choir class at Ramsey Junior High, but I didn't find out about the attack until I got to my 2nd Hour Lifeskills class. I was sitting in my English class with our eyes glued to the TV when we heard about the Pentagon and the plane that crashed in a field in and then as the towers fell. I will never be able to get the image of that bright blue sky with those dark black clouds out of my mind. I hold that memory forever.

When I think about that day and the days that followed, I didn't understand. I didn't understand the world that we were living in and what was to come. I have always had some level of positivity in my life, I have always had unicorns and rainbows surrounding me. If you think that I'm too unicorny now, you never met seventh grade Meghan. However after that day, and really after those moments that morning, I had no unicorns or rainbows. I was twelve years old and just days away from beginning a teenager. I had no clue how the world was about to change. Sometimes when I think about that day, I find myself feeling the same feelings that I had as a young teenager.

I was the same age as my students are now when 9/11 happen. My students are post 9/11 babies; they have no clue what the world was like before. They don't know about the world where people could walk with their family members and friends to the gate of an airport and meet them at the gate. They don't know the world without terrorism being at the forefront of everyone's minds. They don't know the world without war.

Educators today face many uphill battles, but I truly believe one of the hardest battles is to getting students to understand what that day truly meant to us all. I believe this is true of any historical moment. I have heard stories and seen those telling their stories about where they were and what they were doing when they found out about the assassination of JFK or the explosion of the Challenger, but I couldn't identify with it, not because I didn't understand the significance but simply because I had no first-hand experience with the tragedy. Our students understand what happened, but they can't connect to it. It is our job to help them connect. It is our job to tell our story. It is our job to make sure that they understand where we came from so we can guide where we are going. They have to understand that the situation we find ourselves in our a result of what happened that day 15 years ago.

I felt that 15 years ago I lost my sense of innocence, we all did. I lost my sense of safety. That was the intended goal of the terrorists that planned and committed these attacks to take away our innocence and to take away our safety. But we rise, every time we rise. We take challenges, we take the pain, and we take a deep hurt, and we go forward. In the face of darkness and evil, we have hope.  I will never forget that day, and the days after, and know it is my duty make sure my students understand those feelings that I felt. More importantly, it is my job to make sure that they understand how much love and more hope that we need in this world.

100% Real

Photo Cred: Justin Rosser

Sometimes people suck. Sometimes people say mean things. For the love, people say mean, hurtful, and harmful things. Sometimes they don’t mean it, and it just happens, but then sometimes they know exactly what they are saying and what they are doing. As educators, we develop a tough skin to all of the things said about us and said to us, but sometimes we just can’t have a tough skin about some things.

I love my job as a Vocal Music teacher. I love every part of it, and yes, some of it is hard to love, but I do. One of those hard to love areas is when I hear the one comment (in some form or another) every Elective and Fine Arts teacher hates hearing, “You aren’t a real teacher.” I can handle when I hear this from those outside of education, but when I hear it from other educators, I can’t even describe the hurt I feel. Just stop. Please for the love just stop.

I can assure you, what I do in my classroom is 100%. I went to and graduated from a real college. I earned a real degree. I teach at a real school. I teach in a real classroom. I teach real children. I am a real teacher. My classroom and my subject area might not look like your classroom and your subject area, but I do not teach at and in some magic fairyland. It is 100% real.

So many students I have had the opportunity to teach and love come to school not because they love going to math class; they come to school so they can sing, play an instrument, draw and create amazing masterpieces, act in plays, play sports, create computer codes, and learn a new language. For many students who feel they would never be successful in another area of their school career, they are successful in mine. They show up each day knowing no matter what happens in another class or any other circumstance, they can come to my classroom and be so successful. If that isn’t real, I don’t know what is….

This needs to stop. Teachers, we must stop shaming each other and check the egos at the door. It doesn’t help us and certainly doesn’t help our students. We are fighting uphill battles daily and fighting each other shouldn’t be one them. For the love, we need to get it together, before we end up biting ourselves in the butt.

Force of Change

While recently going through some old files, I came across my philosophy of education paper that I wrote for my Intro to Music Education class my sophomore year of college. I had it all it that paper, quotes from the Music Education giants Carl Orff, my man Zolton Kodáy, and Edwin Gordon, Arthur Holmes because I went to OBU and I thought that is what I was supposed to do, and all of the big words. I made an A on that paper, and I’m sure sophomore MegLo was thrilled by that grade, but semi-adult Meghan has to laugh. Do I still believe in every word I wrote? Yes. Do I think that my personal philosophy of Music Education has changed? Yes.

While the words of Orff, Gordon, and Kodály are important, but what I found is that my view and my role has the educator has changed. I had no idea at the age of 20 when I wrote that paper what I was going to encounter in the classroom. After five years in the classroom, I still think of myself as a baby teacher, and I have no clue what I’m doing. The reality is a finally found what works for me. My philosophy is simple; I don’t need the fancy words of Carl Orff, Edwin Gordon, or even Zolton Kodáy to determine how I view education. What I need is my words, my thoughts, because, after all, it is my story. My story, my journey to share with the world. My philosophy is deeply rooted in my why. Why do I teach? Because every child deserves the privilege to sing. My philosophy is simply this: Music Education should be a force for change in this world, and it is my job to bring about that change.

We live in a world that is driven by instant gratification. We want it done quickly, and we want results now. We stop to realize the beauty of the world. We stop to realize the beauty of sound, the beauty of silence. We lose that sense of wonder. We have to have a force of change to experience this beauty; it is my job to help my students discover that feeling again.

We live in a digital age, and while I love technology and what it has done for education, sometimes are just too dependent on it. Kids need to play without a screen, kids to experience and feel the music they are making. Kids need to know just exactly how powerful their voice can be. We will need a break from the screens sometimes. For some of my EdTech friends, please don’t take what I have to say to offensively, but sometimes our students are too tech driven. They need a break; they need to experience the world without their devices if only for an hour or two. Technology has its place in the choir, but choir and music are experiences. They need those experiences.

Music causes us to pause and reflect. It is my job to teach my students what to do with those pauses and what to do with those reflections.

What is your philosophy? Your journey? Your story?

Calling All First Year Teachers!!!

We can try to fight it, we can deny it, but we can’t change it. School is coming. Each year always brings new excitement, and of course, it always brings a whole new crop of professionals into this crazy profession.

First-year teachers, this is for you! Some of you are coming fresh out of college teacher preparation programs, and some of you are alternatively certified and leaving one profession and entering into another profession. Regardless of your path into the classroom, you are here now; buckle up it is about to get so good! First-year teachers keep me on my toes, and I am still a newbie teacher (or at least I think I am)! You are coming into your classrooms with fresh perspective, energy, and excitement. All of those are things veteran teachers are incredibly jealous of and wish they had. I love getting to know first-year teachers and developing friendships with you because you have something to teach me.

I remember my first year of teaching. I remember my successes and my failures, the times I laughed, the times I cried, and all of the crazy moments in between. There are so many things I wish I knew back then, and I want to share those with you.

Don’t Be Afraid To Ask For Help

I went into my first year of teaching thinking I had finally arrived. I had my college degree and did my internship; I got this! I could not have been more wrong. My undergrad degree prepared me for a lot of things: how to plan a rehearsal, how to teach songs, how to conduct, and how to plan a concert. What they didn’t prepare me for: how to communicate with parents, how to run a parent-teacher conference, how to handle the student who just won’t do anything (in music education world you just think every kid will love music), how to manage an activity fund, or how to keep track of the nineteen million forms you have to keep in order. I thought I had it all under control; I was quickly reminded that was not the case, and I needed some help. There is nothing weak or wrong with asking for help; I still ask for help. Ask someone to read that email to a parent before you send it. Ask your administrator if they could sit in on a conference with you if you are worried about the parent. Ask someone to come in and watch you teach; take their feedback and put it into place. If you are struggling with a student, ask if anyone else is; don’t think it is just you. Chances are it isn’t. There are countless teachers on your site that want you to be successful. They know what they are doing, and they can help you. Use that help!

Remember You Are A Professional

You have worked so hard to get to this place in your career. You are a professional. Treat yourself as one, and always make sure you are respected as one as well. If you are in an email back and forth with a parent, stop--be the professional. You don’t need to engage in that conversation; send it on to your administrator and let them help you. Dress like a professional. Talk professionally. Make your students believe you have been doing this for years! Don’t argue with a student; those go nowhere, and you lose credibility with the rest of your students. They might be going through things you could never imagine.

Procedures Are Your Friends

I love procedures, and I have a procedure for everything in my classroom. There are procedures for coming into my room and leaving my room. There are procedures for passing out music, for passing in bell work, for sitting, for standing, and getting on and off risers. If it happens in my room, there is a procedure for it. I don’t just do procedures the first day of school and hope they get it. I spend the first three weeks of school hammering in those procedures. Of course, I sprinkle a little content in there too. After those three weeks, do I stop talking about procedures? Heck no! Every day is a reminder about procedures. To quote my friend Matt Fore, “Procedures get practiced 180 days. Otherwise, you get chaos.” Take the time needed to work on those procedures. It pays off, I promise!

Get To Know Your Students

This might sound like a no-brainer, but I thought I did a really good at knowing my students. But looking back on it, I think I could have done a better job. Just like I mentioned with procedures, spend those first couple weeks of school getting to know your students. Play games and do team building activities. Just as important, make sure they know a little bit about you, too!

Rest

Cherish your weekends. Take time to take care of you. Do fun things! It is all about time management, I set a deadline for myself: if it isn’t done by 4 pm, it can wait. Don’t overload yourself. You have a long career ahead of you! Brace and pace yourself!

Get on Twitter

Chances are you might already be on Twitter, but if not, this is your chance to grow yourself professionally. I love Twitter! This is the best professional development I have ever received! There are awesome educators out there, and you will learn and grow from them! If you need a list of some to start with, check my “Blogs to Read” page; they are the best! If you are a teacher in Oklahoma, take the time to make the Sunday night #oklaed Twitter chats a part of your life! We chat every Sunday, 8 PM CST. It is well worth your time and will help you so much.

You got this, teachers! Go out there and change the world!

Stick Your Landings

If you are following me on Twitter, if you aren’t click here I promise I’m a fun kind of crazy, you have noticed that I’m borderline obsessed with the Olympics. Okay fine, I’m absolutely obsessed with the Olympics. As I’m currently writing this, I’m cheering on Team USA in Men’s Water Polo.

For the love, the Olympics are just my favorite time. I love the Summer Games, and I love the Winter Games. I’m also incredibly emotionally invested in the games. I cry. I cry a lot. I scream, I cheer, and I holler. I am deeply invested in TEAM USA. I don’t care if you judge me or think I am crazy. I will still jump off my couch and practice my gold medal winning gymnastics dismounts every single time.

Speaking of gymnastics dismounts, I want to talk about the queen. I’m not talking about Simone Biles and Gabby Douglas, although they are queens in their own right. I’m talking about Kerri Strug, a member of the 1996 Magnificent Seven. One of my fondest memories of my childhood was watching the Team USA Women’s Gymnastics Team Finals. My parents let me stay up late and look at the event, of course, I had to do some begging. I loved those ladies. The gymnastics world had been dominated by the Romanian and Russian national teams and America finally had it’s shot. America was just points away from clenching Team Gold, but the unthinkable happened. Kerri Strug tore some ligaments in her ankle. Her vault score was the difference between where those ladies would stand on the medal podium. She was in searing pain. It was all over her face. She knew what she had to for her team to win. She vaulted. She vaulted for her life. SHE STUCK THE LANDING. FOR THE LOVE SHE STUCK THE LANDING!!!! If you don’t believe me, or you have forgotten about his amazing moment in American History watch this, and watch it now.

You might be thinking, Meghan what in the world does that have to do with education? Stay with me here; we are all Kerri Strug. Educators in Oklahoma have some torn ligaments in our ankles. The 2015-2016 school year was one that many would like to forget. We were met with body blows after body blows. We knew the budget shortfall and crisis would be bad, but we would have never imagined it being that bad. For many we are starting the 2016-2017 with less money, some with one less day of school a week and still the same expectations, some of us are having to absorb extra students into our classes because the teacher shortage is a real problem. But we still have to vault. Lean in close; this is good, we will stick the landing every single time.

We still stick the landing every time because our students need a champion. We still stick the landing every time because we are professionals, and we know the job we have at hand. We still stick the landing every time because we know the importance of that landing, and it is the difference between success and failures for our students. It is painful, and it is hard, but we do it anyways because we know that the result, in the end, is worth it.

So this upcoming school year, stick your landings. Raise your hands high on the dismount and enjoy every moment. Oh and GO TEAM USA!!!!

Dear Target Mom,

This week I experienced one of the most surreal experiences as an educator. This experience was not in my classroom, but in the school supply aisle in Target. As I was there getting some pencils and index cards, I overheard a woman ranting and raving over her child’s school supply list. What was she so upset about? That the school had a box of Kleenex as one of the required supplies. According to her, if it were something her child would not personally use, it shouldn’t be purchased by individual parents, but by the classroom teacher. I didn’t know this woman, but I politely introduced myself to her and explained to her why I, as a teacher, ask for Kleenex on my supply list. Her response: “Buy that s**t yourself and don’t use my hard earned money, you lefty communist teacher.” She walked away, and I walked away in tears.  Of course, like any other stressful situations, I figured out what to say after the fact.

Dear Target School Supply Mom,

My name is Meghan Loyd, and I am the school teacher you berated: “Buy that s**t yourself and don't use my hard money, you lefty communist teacher.” Engaging you in the school supply aisle wouldn’t have been the appropriate thing do, but I hope if you were to hear what I have to say, maybe it could change your mind. First all, I don’t know you or your financial situation; it is none of my business, but please don’t assume you know me and my financial situation. My money is hard earned too. I have rent, car payments, health care expenses, utilities, and fur babies to care for; yes, I buy some supplies for my classroom, but if I tried to buy all of my school supplies myself, it would provide a huge strain to my budget.

I understand times are hard, and many families are struggling. I’m sure if that is the case for your family, and you can’t afford some of the community supplies on your child’s list, if you talked to that teacher, they could work something out for you. However, taking into consideration your response toward me, that isn’t the case. Teachers across this state are being asked to do more with less. When we ask for a box of Kleenex on our supply list, it is not because we are too lazy to buy them ourselves; it is because we know if we did, we would be out of Kleenex by October.

I wish we lived in a place where education was of the highest value. I wish we as educators didn’t have to ask for supplies and all of our supplies just so happened to be provided for us. However, that is not the case, and we need your help sometimes. If it is too much, please talk to your child’s teacher directly; please don’t bad mouth all teachers in the aisle of a Target.

If you want to help, here is what you can do: don’t buy just one Kleenex box, buy two. Buy extra pens and pencils your child’s teacher can use for their whole class. Or, maybe you just purchase an extra supply set for a child in need. Those are things we need--what we don’t need are haters in the back-to-school aisle.

Kodaly Level Two Wrap Up

Last summer I began my journey into the world of all things Zolton Kodály. Little did I know this training would not only challenge me as a musician and an educator but as a human being. I find myself each moment discovering more and more about this amazing man and educator, and each time my mind is blown away.

For those of you unfamiliar with Zoltan Kodály, here is just a brief little overview. Zoltan Kodaly (1882-1967) was a Hungarian composer, philosopher, and nationalist. While he did not develop the method, his colleagues and students took his ideas and teachings and developed the Kodály method of music teaching. According to Kodály educator Susan Brumfield, “In reality, the teaching inspired by Kodaly may be more accurately described as an approach to music education, based on Kodály’s vision for the musical, intellectual, physical, and spiritual development of children. Kodály-inspired music education is known for its sequential development of skills, emphasis on music literacy and singing-based curriculum” (First, We Sing! Kodaly-Inspired Teaching 8).

When educators like myself want to achieve certification in the Kodály approach, there are three levels of training to complete. These levels offer educators intensive training in musicianship, methodology, conducting, and folk dancing. Yes, you read that correctly, folk dancing! Last summer I took my Level One training, and you can read all about that here: Level One Wrap Up. Level One was intense; Level Two was insane. But, a great insane.

To start off, let me tell you just a few moments that will go down in the Meghan Loyd, Hot Mess Express Hall of Fame. Trust me, this is a great Hall of Fame. I should sell tickets just for a viewing.

Hot Mess Express Number 1: The Books.

I ordered all of my needed materials for class three weeks before classes started. Well, for whatever unexplained reason, UPS will not deliver to my apartment complex. They will deliver to the Post Office, and then the Post Office will deliver to me. I did not know this--if I had, I would have ordered them five years in advance. The class was set to start, but I still did not have materials; luckily a wonderful friend of mine let me borrow her materials. My books arrived on Week Two, Day Three of my two-week course. However, the Postal Service delivered them to my apartment complex office that opens at 9 am and closes at 5 pm...I was in class from 8:30-5:00. I now have my books. The class was over, but I had the resources. When I called UPS, they told me if they could deliver to my apartment complex, they would have just placed them outside of my door. Thanks for the reassuring information of what you would do if you could have done something. Get your life together, UPS!

Hot Mess Express Number 2: The Dress.

One day I wanted to be fancy, and I wore a dress. That day there was a tornado warning and wind gusts that gave me more than one Marilyn Monroe moment. But perhaps the greatest moment came in folk dancing: when I decided to get fancy and do a little spin, my dress decided to do a little spin too and showed my instructor my pink polka dot undies.

Hot Mess Express Number Three: The Glasses.

My dog ate my glasses. For real, it happened. In the middle of the night, said puppy got hold of my frames I need to function and chewed them to bits. So, I missed my morning musicianship class because I needed to get new frames and lenses.

While those moments will forever be in my mind when I think about Kodály Level Two, the moments of learning will always outshine the crazy. I finally understand modes, along with the tagline “What the Phrygian?” When I become a better musician, I become a better educator. I learned to “cut the crap” and that my students should be working harder than I am. I hand my students everything on a silver platter, and I now I realize the huge disservice I have done them. Do they know the concepts, or have they just leaned so heavily on the crutch I gave them that they make me think they know the concepts? I have a huge habit of singing while conducting, and I need to break that habit. I’m just giving my students one more place “to read” from; it is confusing for them. Are they following my mouth, or are they following my conducting gestures? At any rate, this only creates a crutch to their learning.

If you are a regular reader of my blog, you know I write about community. I believe educators need community. My Kodály training has provided me with the greatest community I could have ever asked for, and for that I am thankful. These music educators are amazing to me. They have made me laugh till I cried and almost peed my pants, they embraced and accepted my quirky brand of crazy, they have inspired me, and they have empowered me. To my Kodály Ballers, thank you. You are my tribe, my people, and my heart. Growing and learning with you has been my greatest joy. My instructors are amazing. To Sandy Knudsen and Bev Aynan, I will never be able to repay you for your guidance, mentorship, and love. Perhaps the best way I can is through my teaching. I strive daily to make you proud! Kodály has given me another family of music educators, and I love that! We cannot do this incredibly important job alone. We need each other.

My biggest take away is this: we need music now more than ever before. Zolton Kodály once said, “We must look forward to a time when all people in all lands are brought together through singing, and when there is universal harmony.” When Kodaly was at the height of his career, and his beloved Hungary was reeling from the aftermath of World War I, he lived through World War II and watched his country fall behind the Iron Curtain. I can’t imagine he thought things could get any worse for his land and his people. He held onto hope and believed the world could be brought together through singing. We need music today. We need to sing. We need to sing loudly and together. We need to believe our song will bring peace. At the end of our Level Two concert, and at the end of many sessions meetings of Kodaly Educators across the nation, they close out the meetings with the song “Harmonia Mundi.” This 16th Century German Chorale arranged by Hungarian Lázló Vikár with English text by Sean Deibler leaves me in tears every time. There is something magical about community singing, and in today’s climate, these words need to be sung.

We gather here together with joyful hearts and minds.

To raise our voices ever, our distance souls to bind.

To remember in this moment of friendship, love, and joy.

That music made together can one day heal mankind.