Music Appreciation
November 20, 2007 :: Link :: Nostalgia | Textuality
In sixth grade, they herded us all into the auditorium so that we could hear a band concert performed by our future junior high-school band, the Morgan Park Wildcats. The whole purpose of the concert was so that we could see what band was all about, and start thinking about what instrument we might want to play.
Like everyone else, of course, I wanted to play drums or percussion, but those instruments were limited to kids who already knew how to play the piano. Barring percussion, the only instrument I could possibly tolerate was the saxophone. All the saxophone positions, however, were already taken by eighth graders.
Since I couldn't bring myself to play any of the stupid instruments in band, and I had no desire to join choir, and I didn't have the foresight to join orchestra in sixth grade when you were supposed to, I had only one choice left.
Music Appreciation.
The class, in its description, was actually quite cool. Our task was to appreciate music. We would listen to all forms of music, and that was pretty much all we had to do. Listening to music: I could handle that.
The problem was, however, that I was one of three, maybe four kids in the class who did not have some sort of behavioral problem. My first day in class made it clear that this was a class for kids who either could not handle "normal" music classes to begin with, or had been kicked out of "normal" classes on the first day. The experience was, in a word, awesome.
I sat in the front row, along with everyone else who wouldn't end up in prison before their 25th birthday. Meanwhile, the teacher vascillated between offering us rewards and meting out stiff punishments. It was easy to be a star pupil when you're surrounded by people who are struggling to pass a class where the average assignment is to listen to Bruce Springsteen.
"Springsteen is GAAAAAAAY." That was the consensus among the class. I remember the teacher trying to deal with that statement.
"What kind of gay do you mean? Because gay can mean several different things..." she said.
"He SUCKS! He's LAAAAME," the class said.
"OK," the teacher said. "That's your opinion. But he's not homosexual."
"If you say so," someone murmured.
Meanwhile, those of us so-called "A" students in the front row who actually did not belong in the class but were just slumming it, we were allowed to try and teach each other how to play the guitar. Sometimes we did this in the actual classroom, but usually we did this in an adjacent practice room. On these occasions, the classroom outside melted into complete chaos.
I think that in Music Appreciation was the only time I ever saw a teacher cry while I was in junior high school. It certainly was the only time I ever saw a teacher smash an acoustic guitar, Pete Townsend-style, in sheer rage.
But when I think about it, I probably learned more in Music Appreciation than I learned in any other class in junior high.
Somebody had to do the learning.
Comments
Great post. I took Music Appreciation at Woodland Jr. High. The teacher (who, I think, also taught the smart kids in choir) let class members bring in their favorite record every friday. He'd play the song and we'd discuss it. More than once, each time from a different class member, was "Living After Midnight" from Judas Priest. Definitely not gay!
Posted by: matt | November 20, 2007 3:16 PM
I didn't take Music Appreciation when I was in junior high (in Ashland, I think it was titled the vastly more generic-sounding "General Music")--but that description of the kids in that class...man, that brings back memories. If that doesn't sum up middle school in a nutshell, I don't know what does.
Posted by: Mary | November 20, 2007 4:52 PM
I'm not sure we can say Judas Priest is "definitely not gay." Rob Halford is homosexual. But I suppose there is a difference between being gay and playing gay music, ay?
There was a music teacher at Laura MacArthur Elementary back in '83-'84 who let students bring in music to listen to. I think it was pretty much a rotation of songs from "Pyromania" and "1984." Speaking of gay, one boy brought in Culture Club and another brought in Prince. They later grew up to fulfill the stereotype we all knew they would.
By the way, I was in Barrett's music appreciation class. I'm not sure if he was referring to me as one of the kids with a behavioral problem, but I know I wasn't an A student. Anyway, I have to stand behind his assessment of the class. It was one of the worst-behaved classes since Sister Mary Elephant's days of substituting.
The guitar smashing incident was kind of alarming at the time, but awesome in retrospect. I think the teacher hit a psychological wall in which she needed to either quit teaching forever or smash her guitar. She smashed her guitar and went on to teach another 20 years (and may still be at it).
Posted by: Paul Lundgren | November 20, 2007 10:58 PM
Paul, I was including you in the "A" student club. Are you serious? You didn't ace Music Appreciation? I thought all you had to do was show up and not spit in the teacher's face.
To my memory, the front row was, from right to left (facing front): Me, Paul Lundgren, Jeff Anderson, and somebody else who wasn't a complete fucktard, like maybe Gordy Wedin.
Behind us was a huge wall of juvenile delinquency.
And Matt: Like your teacher, ours also taught choir, and during conferences, she told my mom that I should join choir. That sounded way too gay to me.
Luckily for our teacher, she got knocked up that year, and for a big chunk of the year we had a long-term sub who probably second-guessed her decision to turn down that job at Super Valu every time she dropped the needle on P.D.Q. Bach nearly every day.
Posted by: Barrett | November 20, 2007 11:51 PM
I've thought before that if you were to out The Beast from Priest to my 8th grade Music Appreciation class minds would have simply melted.
Barrett it sounds as if the Music Appreciation standards at Morgan Park were lower than those at Woodland. We had a test. I remember being so pissed because one of the three questions was "Which is the oldest instrument known to humanity?"
What do you think? I reasoned the drum, some animal skin stretched over a hollowed out log. Sweet right?
No. The oldest instrument, according to Mr. Ellison: the human voice! What a dick.
Posted by: matt | November 21, 2007 8:35 AM