As we know, last week there was a terrible tragedy in Paris,
in which people from ISIS set off a series of coordinated attacks on civilians,
resulting in the deaths of over 100 people.
This is horrible. This is something
that is hard to fathom. This is something that should never happen again.
But tragedy strikes, and when it does, it affects all of
us. I believe that for music educators,
such experiences provide opportunities for us to offer support towards the healing
process, by consciously engaging in musical experiences in our classes that can
directly or indirectly allow children to process the issues that may have
emerged for them.
In people’s lives, music serves a variety of important
functions. One of them is that it allows
us to express emotions that may be difficult to express. In music education (particularly at the
elementary level), we are wary of opening too many cans of worms when it comes
to emotional topics. But I believe that
we can do our children and our school communities a great service by providing
them with ways to address difficult life situations. Different teaching contexts will call for
different responses, and knowing your population is important. However, that should not be taken as an
excuse to avoid difficult situations – we can all grow from them.
As a music teacher, I can respond to this – and as a
Kodály-inspired teacher, I feel that I have some unique knowledge, particularly
when it comes to repertoire. Kodály
emphasized the use of quality folk music, and so much folk music has evolved to
reflect important topics of the day.
Many of the songs are old, but many of the issues that are raised in
them carry over to modern-day events.
In this post, I’ll describe three different experiences with
the specific musical choices that I have made after a tragedy: (1) The 2010 mining disaster in Chile; (2)
Hurricane Katrina; and (3) the current attacks in France.
Copiapó Mine Accident of 2010
Mining disasters have been common over the years, and
numerous songs have sprung up to help people express the emotions that occur
when it happens. My favorite one is
“Ballad of Springhill,” written by Ewan McColl and Peggy Seeger after a mine
collapsed in Nova Scotia, in the 1950s.
2. In
the town of Springhill, Nova Scotia,
Late in the year of fifty-eight;
Day still comes and the sun still
shines,
But it’s dark as the grave in the
Cumberland mine,
Dark as the grave in the
Cumberland mine.
3. Down
at the coal face, miners working
Battle of the belt and the
cutter’s blade,
Rumble of the rock and the walls
close round,
The living and the dead men two
miles down,
Living and the dead men two miles
down.
4. Listen
for the shouts of the bareface miners,
Listen through the rubble for a
rescue team,
Six hundred feet of coal and slag,
Hope imprisoned in a three-foot
seam
Hope imprisoned in a three-foot
seam.
5. Eight
days passed and some were rescued,
Leaving the dead to lie alone,
Through all their lives they’d dug
a grave,
Two miles of earth for a marking
stone,
Two miles of earth for a marking
stone.
6. Twelve
men lay two miles from the pit-shaft,
Twelve men lay in the dark and
sang;
Long hot days in a miner’s tomb,
It was three feet high and a
hundred long,
It was three feet high and a
hundred long.
7. Three
days passed and the lamps gave out,
Caleb Rushton, he up and said:
“There’s no more water, nor light, nor bread,
“There’s no more water, nor light, nor bread,
So we’ll live on songs and hope
instead,
So we’ll live on songs and hope
instead.”
8. In
the town of Springhill, you don’t sleep easy,
Often the earth will tremble and
toll,
When the earth is restless, miners
die,
Bone and blood is the price of
coal,
Bone and blood is the price of
coal.
What I love about it:
- Most importantly, the melody is gorgeous and haunting; it gets in your head and won’t leave – in the best way.
- Great song text. There are a number of reasons the text works well:
- Most importantly, the melody is gorgeous and haunting; it gets in your head and won’t leave – in the best way.
- Great song text. There are a number of reasons the text works well:
o
Factually, there are some things for students to
learn: What’s a three-foot seam? A
cutter’s blade?
o
The facts are suggested, but not totally clear,
so the students can discuss various meanings of the text. In particular: What do you think happened to
the miners in this story? The students
usually decide that most of the people lived, even if some died.
o
The text celebrates music. When it gets tough underground, one of the
miners sings, “There’s no more light nor water nor bread; so we’ll live on
songs and hope instead.”
I want my students to understand the power of music, even if
they’re only in fifth grade. Both the
text and the melody really do this.
Typically, I’ll teach the song towards the end of fifth
grade – but that can vary, based on life experience. For example, in 2010, a mine disaster in
Chile got a great deal of attention.
Over the summer, a shaft collapsed, trapping 33 miners underground, but
by late August, all the miners had been rescued. In that year, I taught the song as soon as
the students started school in September.
(Note, by the way, that there’s a new movie coming out about this mine
collapse, called “33.”)
Potential breakdown
point: In the Chilean story, all the miners lived. There have been other years when mining
disasters have occurred, and if there has been a great loss of life, I have
decided that it would be too much visceral experience for fifth graders to
handle. While most kids would be fine
with it, the logical discussion – “What happened to the miners? – could lead to
a discussion that might leave some students feeling distressed. I want them to understand how people the
world over use music to express emotional experiences, but I don’t want them to
get overly upset. This choice has varied
year-by-year, and has depended on my student population.
Hurricane Katrina in 2005
My in-class musical reaction to Katrina was not
planned. One of the play parties that I
introduce in third grade is “Great Big House in New Orleans.” In 2005, Katrina had just occurred, and
without thinking about it too much, I began teaching the song in the middle of
September. As I was singing it to the
students the first time, I began to think about the text of the first verse:
Great big house in New Orleans
Forty stories high
Every room that I’ve been in
Filled with pumpkin pie.
The idea that every room in a house could be filled with
pumpkin pie is pretty funny to third graders.
But I had never thought that the first part of the verse had fantastical
connections – in Seattle, we have buildings that are 100 stories high, so 40
floors is no big deal.
But when Katrina hit, it made me think that it was likely
that when this text first entered into the song, a 40-story building was a
crazy idea! In a low-lying area like
Louisiana, one that has been battered by hurricanes over the years, it was
probably an idea that sounded as wonderful as a whole house filled with
pie.
So for that year, and for each year afterwards, this is a
point of brief conversation. We discuss
hurricanes broadly, Katrina specifically, and then talk about the ways that
house building has changed over the years.
My third graders today don’t know about Katrina because they’re too
young, but this song allows me to introduce an important piece of our recent
history to them.
Source: Locke, E. (1981).
Sail Away: 155 American Folk Songs
to Sing, Read, and Play. New York:
Boosey & Hawkes. p. 17
Verse 2: Went down to the
old millstream, to fetch a pail of water
Put one arm around my wife, the other round my
daughter.
Verse 3: Fare thee well my
darlin’ girl, fare thee well my daughter;
Fare thee well my darlin’ girl, with the golden
slippers on her.
Play party:
Verse 1:
Standing circle. Circle left.
Verse 2: Make a basket as follows:
Verse 2: Make a basket as follows:
Phrase
1: Girls take four steps to the center of the circle and join hands to make a
circle.
Phrase
2: Boys take four steps toward the girls, reach over the girls' joined hands
and down toward the floor, as if picking up a pail of water. Boys join hands.
Phrase
3: Boys raise their joined hands over the girls' heads and down to make a circle
behind the girls.
Phrase
4: Girls raise their joined hands over the boys' heads to form a circle behind
the boys. (Relax shoulders and elbows).
Verse 3:
Phrase
1 and 2: drop hands, move back to larger circle.
Phrase
3/4: Boys swing partner (the girl on his right) one and a half times around,
switching places.
Game
begins again, with new partners.
France and Syrian Refugee Crisis
Across our country, the current crisis has elicited many
strong emotions, and the political reactions from politicians have varied
widely. This particular issue currently
appears so polarizing, and engaging with it in any way is a tricky issue for
music educators to consider. I
considered a variety of options.
Ultimately, I found a song by connecting with Joan Litman, a
wonderful music educator from New York City who has spent a great deal of time
in the Middle East over the years. She
was able to share a singing game, one that was originally from French, but had
been altered by some girls in Syria. The
game that accompanies the song is a beat-passing game (like “Aquaqua” or “Down
by the Banks” or “Vamos a Jugar”), games that they know well and play on the
playground themselves. (See below for
the game directions and musical notation.)
Perfect! This is
exactly the kind of message that I want my students to get – that people from
different cultures can meet, connect, and share elements of their culture with
each other. And that kids in France and
Syria play games that are like the ones that they play here in the United
States.
Source: Taught to Joan Litman by children of The Choir of Joy;
Danascus, Syria, 2011.
Translation:
Dans ma maison sous terre: In my underground house
Omawe, omawe: Unknown
(vocables?)
Tao, tao, ouistiti
(wee-stee-tee): Unknown
Un, deux, tricolate: One, two,
threeeeeee (in French)
Wahid, ‘tnane,* tilate: One, two three (in
Arabic)
*Note: In the last measure,
the children are likely saying counting to three, but the number two (‘tnane)
was difficult to hear on the recording.
Game: Beat-passing
game. Standing circle, left palms up,
right palms down; lightly touching both neighbors’ hands. The beat is passed from right hand to the
neighbor’s right hand, until the end of the singing. On the last syllable (“-te!”), the person
whose hand is about to be (gently!) patted tries to move it before being
touched. If they move their hand in
time, the player trying to tag him/her (“-la”) is out; if not, player “-te” is
out. The game then begins again. On the penultimate note (“-la”), the player
can go out of tempo and hold the note before trying to tap the “-te!”
French versions of the game
often end in English.
(Note: If you are a member of the Facebook group "Kodaly Educators," Joan Litman graciously posted a video of Syrian children playing the game, and you can hear their pronunciation. As of now, there are some issues with access, but check it out - hopefully those will be worked out.)
(Note: If you are a member of the Facebook group "Kodaly Educators," Joan Litman graciously posted a video of Syrian children playing the game, and you can hear their pronunciation. As of now, there are some issues with access, but check it out - hopefully those will be worked out.)
Here’s how I presented it to my fifth graders this week
-
I put the notation on the board, then sung the
song. I asked them: “Why do you think
I’m singing this?”
o
They figured out that it was mostly in French,
either because they recognized some words or noticed the language at the top of
the page.
o
Enough of the students knew about the events of
last week, and were able to briefly fill the other students in.
-
I sung it again, asking: “Why else do you think
I’m singing this?”
o
Fewer students knew that “Arabic” was a language
from the Middle East, although in each of my three classes, at least one
student made the connection.
-
From here, I was wary of wading into deep waters
where I expressed my own personal opinion, so I summed up what was going on:
o I told them hat there had been an attack in France, and
that people from the Middle East were responsible ("ISIS," said at least one student in each class);
o And like bad people in every country, some people in
that country support them, and some people don’t;
o
The students defined refugees, and we had a brief discussion about refugees in our country.
o I noted that some people feel that these refugees are not
checked closely enough, and that our country shouldn’t allow any Syrian refugees into
the United States; others feel that they are perfectly well-vetted, and that it
is our duty as a country to allow then into the United States;
o
At this point, I told them that we weren’t going
to talk about that anymore, but that they should go talk to their parents about
it.
To me, this is appropriate.
I didn’t give them my own personal political interpretation of an event,
but I did provide them with some information that allowed them to go discuss it
with their families. I believe that
fifth graders need to begin to learn about national issues, and this can be a
springboard for discussion at home.
From there, we dealt with musical and game aspects of the
song. Some issues that emerged:
But after two classes, they have picked it up well, and are having fun with it. And I feel that they are going away from music class as more thoughtful citizens of our country, and of the world. - How do we pronounce the words?
- How is the fermata going to work in the context of a 25-person class?
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