What, Who and How

 

I have just seen The Secret Song,the film about my last year at school, for the fourth time at a screening in Austin, Texas for the South X Southwest Education Conference. Without overinflating its artistry (courtesy of the filmmakers), it feels like listening to a Bach Fugue or a Keith Jarrett solo— so many layers that there’s always something new revealed. 

 

Because this was shown to teachers—not SF School families or Orff teachers or musicians— I noted how much opportunity the film provides for deeper discussion about education— what it is, what it has been, what it could be, what it should be.  Yet the beauty of the film is that it does not proselytize, overload the viewer with dogma, insist on the right way kids should be taught or the most effective method to be adopted. Instead, it simply shows— and in small amounts, tells— what a joyful experience school might be if we only thought a bit more clearly about it. At the end, it is Sofia Lopez-Ibor, James Harding and myself simply sharing the fruits of our life’s work. In effect, it gently says:

 

• This is what we’ve done— and still are doing.

 

 • This is who we are and this is who we might yet become.

 

• This is what we love, who we love and how we love.

 

• If you like it, take what you can. If not, leave it be.”

 

After the screening, we had three too-short talks with teachers who were struck by one thing or another in the film. One asked what philosophies lay behind our work, another how we prepared for our own disappearance and some sense of legacy and a third, so sweetly saying, “I’m a first-year music teacher and this is who I want to become.” 

 

But I wondered about the other 65 people in the screening room. Hopefully, I may bump into some in the hall and further conversations might commence. But knowing what I know about people and how we’ve been trained to think and respond, I wouldn’t be shocked if I overheard some comments like:

 

• Well, that’s all well and good, but they could only do that because they worked in a privileged private school.

 

• Wow! They’re amazing! I could never do that!

 

• Hmm. Three white teachers— no thanks.

 

• They were so lucky to get to do all of that!

 

• Yeah, but did those kids get into good high schools and colleges?

 

• Okay, but that would never work in my situation.

 

All of which is worthy of further discussion, all of which is short of the mark. The point is not to compare and despair, or compare and dismiss, or second guess why “that would never work for me,” but to use it all as a jumping off point for deeper reflection. About the educational principles they observed at work, the affirmation’s of kid’s innate musicality and innate humanity, the way kids are encouraged to question and think, the way kids are affirmed and welcomed and appreciated and enjoyed for who they are, the way a school can leave space for serious fun and rigorous frivolity and a thousand other details of the great craft of joyful education that are always worthy of reflection. And the film indeed reflects the reality of that joy simply in the faces and bodies of the children so happily engaged. The best and ultimately only reason to reflect more profoundly on how and what and why one teaches.

 

I hope some day the film can be screened in an educational conference and coupled with a workshop, a post-film reflection in which people consider:

 

“In my teaching, what do I love? Who do I love? How do I love? And what Secret Song is awaiting me to be revealed?”

 

Download

 

My 5^th grade teacher-daughter Talia just clued me in on the latest “advance” in technology designed to shut down students’ rigor, personal voice and critical thinking skills. Some new monster in cool clothes named “chatgpt” that I’d rather not know about it, but probably need to look in on at some point. But it did remind me of a song my colleague James Harding and I wrote while driving down to an Orff Mini-Conference. Well, really new words to a familiar song—Downtown, by Petula Clark. And when did we write it?

 

2001! Over two decades later, it still holds up. Teachers, sing it to—or with—your kids. And less they’re having trouble grasping the concept of satire and irony, be sure to add the word “NOT!!!!!” at the end.

 

1) When you’re alone and homework’s getting you down, you can always go—

Download.

The teachers won’t know and your folks aren’t around, so turn it on and go—

Download.

Just boot up to the Web on your personal computer.

You’ll have time to go outside and try out your new scooter.

What can you lose?

The figures and facts are there, 

you can be printing them out while you’re dying your hair, so go

Download, it’s just a click away.

Download, no work for you today.

Download, it’s the new techno way out.

 

2) It’s late at night and you’ve got pages to write about the Civil War—

Download.

Hit the Website, you know it’s really all right, ‘cause that’s what techno’s for—

Download.

Your prose can be as complex as Immanuel Kant,

All you’ve got to do is chose the paper and the font.

Palintino.

You won’t have to think for yourself,

You can forget all those Cliff Notes, leave the books on the shelf and go

Download, there’s information there.

Download, what do you really care?

Download, sit in the easy chair now.

 

3) You didn’t do the reading and now you are needing facts about Vietnam—

Download.

It’s not really cheating, you’ll find out the meaning if you click dot.com— 

Download.

You hand in a paper that you barely understand.

It never has to pass through your brain or your hand.

Why work so hard?

The grades are much higher there

You’ll be hangin’ at Stanford or in Harvard Square when you

Download—open your eyes and go

Download—you will look wiser if you

Download—just plagiarize, it’s okay.

 

Horn Solo

A shout-out to my daughter Kerala for putting together a new Website and saving me tens of thousands of dollars! My small payback is to try to re-post her fabulous writing on Facebook to reach a larger audience. (See next post). 

 

Collecting some possible quotes for the revised Website, I found the following gems. Yes, I know it’s considered bad taste to toot one’s own horn, but the quotes are more responses to my “horn solo” teaching then me praising myself. The spirit here is not to shine the light on me to feed a needy ego, but to shine through my work to the larger principles that illuminate good teaching. They represent a cross-section of kids I taught at my school, music teachers I taught in courses and workshops, colleagues and even a famous jazz musician! 

 

I’m grateful beyond words for these people and the opportunity to be of use to them and could write my own praises back to them about how they’ve inspired—and continue to inspire— me. And thanks to them all for their encouragement. I guess I’ll stick with teaching.

 

Doug’s words give me hope. They fill my heart with the exact purpose of my own existence.

-       Jodie Blackshaw; Australian Music teacher

 

Doug Goodkin is  one of my most inspirational teachers I know. He changed my life when I became a music teacher. It’s like I stepped into what I was sent to this earth to do.

-       Abbie Ehorn: Music teacher

 

Doug’s teaching and mentorship, books and educational philosophies affect me and my students and conversations with adults every day that I teach. 

-      Laura Earley; Music teacher

 

Doug always has the words that transform us into the best version of ourselves.

-      Jenny Labonte: French-Canadian music teacher 

 

 

This man reminded me of my roots and reconnected me to the earth in his teaching. Doug ultimately changed how I speak, breathe, move and love through music. 

-      Jeff Griffith; Music teacher and jazz musician

 

 

Doug Goodkin is one of my favorite teachers EVER. He was (and is) foundational to my positive outlook in life and my joy of music and cultures from around the world.

-      Ginger Fahrenwald Villanueva: a former San Francisco School student

 

The magic of learning with Doug Goodkin is just this: the experience of feeling, belonging, feeling alive, being whole and being part, accessing my spaces of deep joy and fullness and also having the opportunity to realize and heal some pain it's in that process. Making new friends, rediscovering old ones, and sharing so many unforgettable moments.. As Doug says, the person who is felt, looked at, loved, or admired by at least once in a lifetime, will always choose the path of love in their actions.

-       

-       Pati Bley de Oliveira: Brazilian Music teacher

 

Doug has it all. So balanced in his thoughts actions and approaches, always looking at the pros and cons, the sweet and the bitter, the insider and the outsider, the palatable and the unpalatable...always right on.

-       Dr. Kofi Gbolonyo; Ghanaian musician and teacher

 

Doug supports and shares the value of joy in everyday life and makes all his students feel wonderful! He gives his energy to the love which creates security and space for evolution.

-       Ukranian music teacher

 

Doug has made a huge impact on my teaching and more importantly, my learning!  In the wake of all the recent discussions around race, justice and equality, I’ve often reflected on how your jazz course linked the emotion of the music with the horrors of the history. It was the beginning of my education on racial inequality and my examination of my own white privilege.  Thanks to him for not only being a wonderful teacher, but a compassionate thinker and a tireless voice for peace and change.

-      Cathy Anderson: Music teacher

 

I appreciate Doug’s efforts as an educator, musician, author, civil rights advocate and overall conscientious human being. 

-       Herlin Riley: Jazz drummer

What's Happening to Progressive Schools?

Though the news hasn’t reported it, there has been noticeable small earthquake activity through the world. A closer look reveals that there is no seismic plate-shifting cause to the phenomena. It’s Rousseau, Pestalozzi, Froebel, Montessori, Steiner, John Dewey, Alfred North Whitehead, Carl Orff, Gunild Keetman, John Holt, Jonathan Kozol, bell hooks and more progressive educators rolling over in their graves. 

Each of the above, in their own unique style, created and contributed to an enlarged definition of education far beyond the 3R’s, wholly indifferent to simply making children be obedient and answer all the questions they never asked and then be judged and labelled accordingly, fiercely opposed to corporeal punishment and behavior management and firmly speaking out on behalf of the dignity and delight of children in each stage of their development. Each in their own way forged the discipline of freedom, nurtured the innate curiosity and sense of wonder of the child, believed in their capacity to be kind and caring, sought the structures and pedagogical techniques that sparked the imagination, exercised the intellect, nurtured the body as an instrument of knowledge and the heart as the carrier of each child’s particular genius. 

 

The schools that grew from their inspired vision were places of belonging, of inquiry, of teachers and students working side-by-side investigating the big and small mysteries of this life. They are experimental places seeking to give weight and muscle to the airy ideals of freedom. Visitors to such schools were instantly entranced by the buzz of activity, the excitement in the air, the sense that these were places were the children were happy. And lo and behold, so were the teachers. 

 

In my own case, the first 25 to 30 years of my 45 years spent at such a school were happy ones for us teachers. Not that we sidestepped the inevitable pitfalls of any group of human beings gathered together. Of course, we had squabbles with each other, issues with the kids, little betrayals and disappointments— the whole catastrophe. But the key feeling was that they were our collective little problems. We created them, we owned them, we dealt with them and at the end of the day, we felt their proper proportion. We might disagree as to the way to wear one’s hat or sip one’s tea, but in the end, felt it all as the walk down the inevitable “bumpy rode to love” (Gershwin). 

When it came to community, we were all in. We all belonged to the same club and the vision that sustained us, though yes, we could lose sight of it in the day-to-day, was the grand challenge of “being the change we wanted to see in the world.” And a glorious vision it was—and still is.

 

But something is rotten in the state of today’s progressive schools and too many are walking around pretending they don’t smell it. I find that inside the class, the children are still mostly happy— but their teachers are not. Schools that spout social justice and transparency and reparations and speaking truth to power have a little hidden clause in the teacher contract— “That’s well and good to teach the kids, but we, the administration, won’t tolerate any such behavior from our teachers.”

 

Schools that used to be collectively run are now administratively top-heavy and they’re all drinking the same Kool-Aid. They set the agenda, they run the meeting, they call you out if you touch a kid on the shoulder or say the innocent thing that some 9-year old decides is offensive. Gone is the autonomy that makes people feel respected, included and happy, replaced by scolding from above from people unqualified to judge. Gone is the faith that each teacher is striving for mastery in his/her own field and in come the scripts for the “perfect lesson” to be dutifully followed. Gone are the staff meetings that used to feel like jazz jam sessions and now suddenly, everybody’s marching to someone else’s drummer and believe me, the groove is not danceable. Gone is the simple conviction that when conflict arises, we can simply sit down and actually talk about it. In come the HR people (often aligned with the admin), the professional mediators charging rates that could go to scholarship, the 12-step pinball machine of who in the hierarchy the problem gets passed down to. Where good conversations used to reference poets to find the language large enough to sincerely get to the root of the issue, now the school admin turns to lawyers and bankers. Do you feel the earth turning from those intelligent, visionary people listed above? This is not what they had in mind. And to make it all yet more outrageous, the privilege of getting to experience these private “progressive schools” comes with a price tag that has multiplied some 20/30-fold merely in the last four decades!

 

Whether public or private, so many schools have the resources, the knowledge and the possibility of restoring their vision so that children, teachers and parents are (mostly) happy, have a sense of voice appropriate to their role and are working side-by-side to make this world each day a little bit better than it was the day before. In a school that talks and talk and walks the walk, no important decision should be made without taking time to consider it with the people most directly affected. No teacher should be afraid to voice an opinion, a question, a disagreement with a decision. No administrator should be excused from making a questionable decision under the smokescreen of “confidentiality.” And if a school shuts down teacher voice in these—and other ways— they should not be allowed to go on with the farce that they believe in Social Justice. Better to just let the teachers know “It’s my way or the highway” and have it clear from the start. 

 

And then maybe all those who choose the highway can meet out in the woods and start the whole thing again from scratch. Who’s in?

 

The Three C's

How do we know when we are at fault? When is confidence that we are right a proper response and when does it become arrogance and shutting down of listening? When is self-doubt the fuel for further growth and when does it cripple us? Questions for a Friday morning.

 

Confidence. Conviction. Clarity. These are three stellar qualities in any field. Teaching, for example. Kids can immediately sniff out when you’re not sure of yourself and poke all your vulnerable spots. They will test the depth of your conviction that what you’re offering is worthy and steamroll over you if it’s found wanting. They will show you if your plan is murky or clear and show no mercy if clarity is missing. The proper response to their apparent misbehavior is not “Kids these days are horrible!” but “What do they have to tell me here? How can I build a stronger confidence, deeper clarity, unshakeable conviction?”

 

How indeed. No blueprint formula— this is deep inner work. Part of it is simply doing the work to understand more fully the details of your field and the effective ways in which to communicate it. Taking the time to study, to train, to practice. And then the constant observation about what works well and works less well, the relentless tuning, fine tuning, re-tuning, class after class after class. The understanding that while it’s good to proceed as if the difficult class is your fault, it is never wholly your fault. You’re dealing with that volatile mix of emotion and character called people and children are people in their rawest, most unpredictable form. So while you keep reflecting and adjusting to achieve the illusive perfect class (it actually does happen occasionally— see yesterday’s post!), it’s always a work-in-progress. It’s always a conversation between your self-assurance and self-doubt, always tweaking the proper proportion of each.

 

A healthy dose of self-doubt is the crack that keeps things honest and just vulnerable enough. We have had plenty of confident dictators convinced that their worldview is correct and clear about their plan. Let’s remember that conviction also means sentenced by a jury to become a convict. That confidence can cross the tracks to make you, in Melville’s terms, a “Confidence Man” scamming and conning others for our own profit. That clarity can mean “brightness and radiance” but too much direct sunlight can blind us to our own faults. 

 

So by all means, in our teaching, in our work, in our living, let us strive for more confidence, conviction and clarity. But leave in that healthy sliver of questioning and doubt. Remember Inspector Gamache’s wise words before claiming your conviction, “I might be wrong, but here’s what I think…” That’s the crack that lets just the right amount of light in.

 

The Canary's Beautiful Song

People in schools are reporting what is obvious. We are in trouble. Everywhere we see deep depression, panic attacks, high anxiety, trauma, violence, hate speech, bullying, abuse, extraordinary ignorance— and I’m just talking about the teachers! 

 

But kids also are suffering from much of the above and why should we be surprised? As above, so below. They are like the canaries in the mines announcing that our supporting posts are in danger and the air is unbreathable. When elected officials, the people featured in the news lie habitually without consequence, spew their vitriol without caring how it affects us, when mass shootings happen most every day without  a single change in policy, climate change is in our face every time we walk out the door, the pandemic is relaxing its grip (but what is around the corner?)— shall I go on?— this takes its toll on the human psyche. The adults are in the grip of insane conspiracy theories, epidemic drug addiction at all levels of society in addition to the previous list. Is it any surprise that teachers are having trouble with kids at schools and parents are having trouble at home? Of course, they’re a wreck!

 

Except……………………

 

… for the two fifth grade classes I helped teach today. The exceptional quality of their listening, their razor-sharp focus and attention, their capacity to quickly learn a given melody, their fearlessness in improvising, their articulate appreciation of each other’s improvisations, their playfulness and humor— extraordinary all of it. Both classes, 24 kids in a class, without a single moment having to remind anyone to pay attention or not interrupt when the teacher is talking or to stop fooling around. Pure heaven.

 

And so I feel renewed in my hope for the future of humanity. Friends, if you’re feeling despondent or hopeless or battered by the news or overwhelmed by what is ahead/ behind/ at our side, come to this 5^th grade class and be renewed. Today, these canaries sang the most beautiful of songs and revealed the gold in the mountain.

Icelandic Biker

I can’t remember San Francisco being so consistently cold and wet in a long, long time. Yes, I know, compared to real wintry places and monsoon locations, I have nothing to complain about. But when the plum trees bloom in February and the cherry trees begin in June, we San Franciscans expect something different.

 

Today as I set off to ride my bike to the school where I’m helping out, it was 38 degrees. Colder with the actual wind chill factor combined with the wind created by biking. So I dug deep into my closet and unearthed an large Icelandic wool sweater. This was gifted to me in a memorable Orff course I gave in Iceland in 1995, co-teaching with a young Spanish teacher I knew just a little bit named Sofia Lopez-Ibor. We already knew that our teaching styles blended perfectly and were thoroughly enjoying each other’s company both in and out of the workshop.

 

One afternoon, we were taken on a walk up a hill to the Old Town and standing there looking over the city of Reyjkavic, I turned to Sofia and said, “I like Europe!” Dead silence. One minute later, she asked, “What did you say?” I repeated it. She seemed relieved and told me, “Oh, I thought you said, ‘I like your rib.’” That was a standing joke between us for the next 28 years!

 

So as I put on the sweater, I felt the double warmth of sweet Icelandic memories and the actual thick wool. I layered by jacket over it, put on my winter hat and gloves, wore a mask for warmth and headed off on my bike like some inflated Michelin Man. And for just about the first time in the last few weeks outside, felt warm.

 

At 1pm, I met my wife and brother-in-law at a restaurant and sat outside in the sun and I peeled off both the sweater and my jacket. This was the San Francisco March I’ve grown to know and love, to expect and cherish. But according to the weather channel, the mercury will drop again to 39 tonight. But no matter. I’m prepared.

 

Thank you, Iceland!