Chinese fire drill

I hate to be so politically incorrect, because I certainly have no prejudicial intent toward residents of China or our esteemed fire fighters, who bravely do their jobs every time they are needed.

But everyone will instantly know what to picture in their minds when I start talking about passing out musical instruments to ten-year-olds.

The last six weeks of school, for the fifth-graders, have been about getting them up to speed on how to be good band students. We tackled the concepts one by one, starting with whole, half, quarter, eighth notes and rests, and then moved on to the staff and the pitches. I didn't spend a really long time on that because I knew we'd get to it later, one note at a time, with their music books in front of them.

I also know that you can't just expect kids to know how to be a good student in a rehearsal setting. You have to teach them. So I sat them down and showed them a conductor's beat pattern, and told them what to do at every moment of the rehearsal. (I love that part.) I showed them which books they will need and how to read the instructions for learning new things.

But it takes a while to master, and in the meantime, the kids are positively falling all over themselves, itching to get an instrument--any instrument--in their hands. And no matter how carefully you plan, and go over procedure, the actual event is something like a, well, Chinese fire drill.

Today's class has certainly earned their instruments, sometimes a bit painfully. I think most everyone could indentify a quarter note under duress, and they will know, by reading the poster on the wall, the things I expect them to bring to class, chief among them, a thinking cap.

"Who is interested in playing the drums?" I asked.

Seventeen hands shot up. Hmm, that wouldn't do, especially because the class only had twenty-three students and they were all talking at once.

But I noticed who was saying what. One kid, who looks to me like a particularly intelligent kid and who has not unduly distinguished himself by bad behavior, asked me what the big drum was.

"A bass drum," I said, and added, "if you're interested in that you will have to be a leader, and be able to help me lead the band by keeping a steady beat."

That sounded fine to him, and I marked him down. Twenty-two to go.

I walked around to individual students, remembering their effort in past classes and the way they interacted with other students. Some students had already told me what they wanted to play, such as a trombone, and I was happy to oblige.

Slowly I found the trombone players, several boys willing to try the saxophone, a girl who thought the trumpet sounded good.

My cache of instruments dwindling, I assigned a couple of girls with piano experience to the xylophone. I remembered that one girl had a violin. I'd bend my rules about non-band instruments because, frankly, I was getting desperate. I even assigned two girls to play auxiliary percussion.

It came down to a question of the flutes. I only had two left. (By the way, this was only the first set of fifth-graders to be assigned instruments. I have another class to figure out on Friday.)

Four girls were interested in becoming flute players. Very interested, and not willing to consider another choice. I talked to them for a minute, saying that we had to solve the conflict in a grown-up way. I could see the look in one girl's eyes that said, "if I don't get a flute I'm going to create drama. Big drama."

Finally, two of the girls said they would consider the trumpet. Thank the Lord. I wasn't going to have to draw names out of a hat and deal with the diva.

Once the instruments were marked down by their names I arranged them in order. We practiced coming into the room and the beginning rehearsal procedure. They were extremely quiet, watching me for the cue of stepping behind my stand to get rehearsal started.

That will happen again approximately never.

Today, an activity I had been dreading was over. I'd been worried about it partly because I don't have that many instruments left because my other groups are so big. I'd also been worried about it because it would be a kind of chaos for a little while, and there's nothing I can do about it. I've tried giving the rest of the class an assignment to do but that never works, not when we're talking about instruments.

The cool part is that a whole new group of beginning students will get that look on their face that you can't find them with in any other class. They get behind their instruments and they feel important. They have an identity, one that they will forever associate themselves with. Kids need that, and playing music gives that to them, something that will never be taken away.

I'm sorry, but calculating the area of a rectangle just doesn't compare.

The part I just really like best about my job though, when dealing with brand-new musicians, is transforming a chaos-minded batch of kiddoes into...a band.