On Call

My colleague Sofia called me at 10:00 am this morning sounding like twelve bullfrogs were lodged in her throat. Was I available to sub? At 11:00 am? With 1^st graders teaching them the song Aiken Drum?

 

I had just settled myself down to slog through all the uninspired business I invariably put off for a couple of days. Really fun (not!) things like following up on the FBI background check and filling out forms, sending out invoices, ordering books shipped and such. Yes, they do need to get done, but having to choose between singing and dancing with young children and filling out forms so that I eventually can get to sing and dance with others in Taipei in January— well, that’s a choice easily made.

 

Within a half an hour, I was in the car heading to school planning a way to work with Aiken Drum, a song about a man in the moon whose clothes are made of food, that I had never tried before. Each of the 12 kids choose a food during the song and then after, choose a drum, wooden frog, or cowbell and play the rhythm of their food on it. In many variations— only when I sang and called their article of clothing, each instrument group together, the whole group together, playing while dancing, etc. It worked well and I could see it being part of my extensive tried-and-true ideas repertoire to share in adult workshops. 

 

I had similar inspirations for the 4-years-olds and third grade and it was comforting to know that a tiny spark of an idea could still ignite into the fire of a sequenced class plan within minutes. That’s what comes from a lifetime of teaching. If I was in the neighborhood and you called me to teach your class in the next five minutes, why, I believe I could do it. With both me and the kids having a great time.

 

Sofia’s not sure how she’ll feel tomorrow, so once again I’ll be on call. If needed, the FBI can wait.