Wednesday, October 19, 2011

In Sickness and In Health

Nobody likes it when their kid is sick. Parents feel helpless and are forced to supply their children with much needed doses of Theraflu and Robitussin at various intervals throughout the day. Some take off work to nurse their children back to health, constantly monitoring their fever, holding their clammy hands, and bringing them soup and saltines when they are sure it won’t make a return visit 20 minutes later. These are the best kind of parents.

 My parents were like that. My Mom worked nights and when we were sick she would sleep very little during the day. She would constantly check on us and, being a nurse, she always had a knack for coming up with the right cocktail of over the counter meds that would make us feel better and knock us out if we needed it. Dad was great too. He would always get stuck with picking up the medicine on his way home from work, while Mom stayed with us during the day. In addition to the medicine, he would always bring home Sprite if we had an uneasy stomach. It was the REAL Sprite too, not the “Lemon Lime Sierra Mist 7 wannabe Sprite.” Dad knew how to get the good stuff. He was also the one we would call during the day to pick us up from school if my mom was out of town running errands or had to stay at the hospital for a class. Both of them were pretty great about picking us up from school, even during the times when we were CLEARLY faking it. If Dad picked you up, it was on his lunch hour, and he would take you home and you’d crawl into bed and he would go back to work for a few hours. This was only when we were old enough to stay at home, and even then, he was always home early. If Mom picked you up, you’d stop by the pharmacy, go home and lay on the couch. She would sit there with you, risking contamination herself, and bring you ice and feel your forehead from time to time.

 It was the best. If you were lucky enough to have parents that were Saints like this, first of all, thank them, and secondly, pay it forward. Provide your kids with the same love and care you received. And if you didn’t have those parents, break the cycle. Be the parents you were always jealous of, and then, put your parents in a home where the orderlies make them do back breaking labor like in Happy Gilmore…that’ll show ‘em!

 I have to admit, I have a hidden agenda here. While I do think that parents should provide their children with necessary care such as this, my main reason for soap boxing is that I don’t want to be the one who has to deal with your biohazard children! Yeah, I said it! Most parents don’t think twice about sending their kids to school. The drag their pale carcasses out of bed, shove their sweaty bodies into some sweat pants and a shirt, fireman carry them onto the bus, and then go shower off the germs before work. I hate you, parents of the world. Not once during this ritual of expelling the diseased from your house and from your care did you think of the poor schmuck you are leaving in charge of your children. No, you were thinking, “Oh, I have that big marketing meeting today…” or “He’ll be fine, he hasn’t turned green yet…” or, what I believe to be the most common reason, “There is NO WAY I am using another vacation day. This little bastard is going to school!” On behalf of teachers everywhere, I would like to say, “YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE!!!” Everyday, we face students who serve as carriers for every disease, virus, and flu known to man. We are essentially stuck in that movie “Contagion” or “Outbreak” or “Planet of the Apes”, because, let’s face it, some of your children look and behave like animals.  

Parents forget, or rather don’t care, that teachers are human too, and are therefore susceptible to sickness. Veteran teachers will tell you that you will get incredibly sick at least once while in your first few years of teaching. I can tell you from experience that this is true. You can do everything right, but if one of those rats (students) is carrying the bubonic plague, you’re gonna get it. In my first few years of teaching, I was unfortunate enough to get 3 stomach bugs, one for each school I taught at. When you’re a traveling teacher you are essentially battling against illness at 2 or more schools, fighting the good fight on multiple fronts or taking it in from all sides (that’s what she said). Most teachers don’t have to travel. They only make Art, Music, and Foreign Language teachers travel. And I am not talking about switching classrooms (although they never make math and science teachers do that either), I am talking about switching SCHOOLS! Yes, as if it wasn’t insulting enough that they cut your programs first, they then banish the Arts faculty to the far reaches of the building and force them to go to other schools …like prisoner transfers in our penal systems (hahaha, penal systems!) but you have to drive your own car and there are no shackles…unless you’re into that kind of thing…

So there you are, teaching in 2 schools, using 2 different room phones, 2 different sets of door knobs, touching 2 different pianos (that you probably have to move all over the school while those douche bags that teach Math get to stay in their room, even though they only use a fucking marker!), conversing with 2 sets of students, using 2 different computers…you get the point. The amount of things you have to touch everyday while teaching is disgusting, and God knows who uses that stuff when you’re not there…it’s most likely Billy, who fails to implement the vampire sneezing technique* EVERY DAMN TIME! 

Some of you think you can conquer the germs by using hand sanitizer, but you’re kidding yourselves. Hand sanitizer is not match for the super germs that these little monsters bring in today. Also, most hand sanitizers don’t even have the correct percentage of alcohol to kill off the bad germs (Thanks Period 3 Theory!), so in reality, you’re in the lab testing group that is using the placebo. A.K.A: You’re fucked! Hand washing is also really good, but you can’t hold off the germs forever….they’ll find you and they’ll have help. 

My favorite thing about sick students is that they seem to gravitate towards you. Because their parents are assholes and sent them to school, they learn that asshole-y behavior is acceptable and immediately put it into practice. When I am sick, I do my best to avoid physical contact with people, over medicate, and quarantine myself as much as possible. Kids don’t do this. They march right up to your face and say “I’m sick today…I actually just finished throwing up in the bathroom RIGHT before I came here! Let me breathe on you so that you can join in the fun that is going on in my violently retching insides!!!” They have NO idea that they do it too. When you’re sick, you don’t have as much energy and therefore are not as attentive in class. Perhaps they feel the need to tell you personally so that you won’t think that they are lacking in effort. They WANT you to know that you can see every color of the rainbow in the tissue they just used, and that their head is hot enough for you to grill that Lean Cuisine Panini that you brought for lunch that day, and that they now know what a half digested Big Mac looks like. I am getting sick just writing about this…imagine having to hear it first hand from kids you don’t really even know that well or, better yet, kids you don’t even LIKE!

I don’t get it. I am of the opinion that if you are, in fact, sick, STAY HOME! A sore throat is one thing. I can even handle the sniffles, but if you’re coughing continuously and each time you feel as though the only thing keeping your lungs inside your body is your throat, which is so swollen you can barely breathe, then YOU. NEED. TO. GO. HOME! I am not going to commend you for coming in sick. There are no gold stars to be awarded, or bonus points given because you were “brave” enough to attend school in your fragile condition. You’re certainly not doing me any favors. In fact, if it were possible, I would actually deduct points from your final average if you came in to school feeling anything less than 100%. Your progress report would read, “Student is a festering mass of disgusting” or “If your son/daughter comes to school sick again I will seize the first opportunity to push them off the sidewalk into oncoming traffic.” 

Not only are sick kids repulsive for obvious reasons, they’re needy. We’re all needy when we’re sick. That, I understand. However, when you come to school and I have a chorus of 120 people to deal with I can’t take the time out of class to cater to your every need. You know better than anyone what you need to do to feel better, so DO IT! Unless you need to sleep, in which case I would say, “Are you fucking kidding me?” First, you come to school, gross and contagious, you’ve put your germy hands on everything within reach, you have come up and told me you are sick and have most likely breathed directly in my mouth, and then you have the AUDACITY to ask me if you can sleep during my class. You little bastard! NO, YOU CAN NOT SLEEP IN MY CLASS! You can do what everyone else is doing, because that is why you came to school in the first place, RIGHT? If you wanted to sleep, you could have stayed at home. I am just giving you what you want, so don’t complain to me! You asked for it. And then, when I don’t let them sleep, they ask to go to the nurse. Now, I love school nurses. I had the great fortune of having the best school nurse EVER in middle school. She was so kind and nice and friendly. I still say “hello” to her every time I see her and she still knows my name. That is how awesome she is. That being said, she was only a great care giver. She couldn’t give us any medication, or diagnose anything. You only went to see her if you were injured or if you were to sick to stay in school. Now, if you decided to be IN school, what good is it going to the nurse going to do you? They can’t do anything!!! Kids only go there to sleep because you turned out to be a cruel jackass that has no sympathy for their illness. So essentially, they have figured out a way to “legally skip” your class.

The other thing that frustrates the hell out of me is tissues. Do you have any clue how many tissues kids use? They’re like crack to these kids. Even if they’re not sick, they will still find a way to use it. Do you remember when you were younger and everything needed a bandaid? Even if it was just a bruise, or you bumped your arm on the door, or you had a hangnail that you pulled, you needed a fucking bandaid! Tissues are the new bandaids. Kids have special tissue radar. They come into your class and upon entering, they immediately scope out the location of the box of tissues. If they can not immediately see it, they will ask you where you put the tissue box, and God forbid you say “we’re out!” or “I don’t have any.” You might as well have skinned a cat in front of these kids for the look of sheer horror, despair, and anger you will receive. “NO TISSUES!!!! Who are you, HITLER?” No, I don’t have any freaking tissues. You used 26 yesterday when you came to school as a snot factory! 

I used to wonder why we had tissues listed on our school supply list in elementary school. Now I know why!!! The cost for a teacher to buy an entire class tissues would be ASTRONOMICAL! If kids are using this many tissues, perhaps there should be line in the budget for that! Maybe we should apply for some federal funding. Does Obama know about the tissue crisis? Honestly people, if you are a grotesque snotty mucus-y mess, BRING YOUR OWN DAMN TISSUES! I told one of my classes just that last year. They were not pleased. I left the empty box of tissues on the desk, just to screw with them. Next to it was an empty bottle of hand sanitizer, because those bitches used all of that too! No way in HELL am I replacing those things. Each day they would come up to the box and the bottle, hoping beyond hope that the tissue fairy and the sanitizer elf granted their wish and refilled them under cover of night. “Today was the day”, they thought; their mini Christmas morning. Their face would immediately fall upon sing that both containers were once again empty, and the containers would then serve as a receptacle for their broken hopes and dreams. It was my small revenge!

Whenever you’re sick, doctors recommend some rest and relaxation. Now, seeing as how they went to school for about 18 years of their life and, seeing as how you probably have a seasonal flu, you should probably listen to their advice. But instead, you trust the fact that you know best. After all, you are in middle or high school. You CLEARLY already know everything, so that doctor was clearly trying to cheat you out of spending another glorious school day with your friends! The joke’s on him because you ultimately decided to go to school! TAKE THAT DOC! And to the parents who had to go to that marketing meeting, I hope your fly was down and that you tripped over the easel, you selfish bastard.

*Vampire sneezing technique: Sneezing into your elbow as you draw your arm up to your face. If done correctly, you look like Dracula as he draws his cape up to conceal everything but his eyes…yes, this is a real thing…ask an elementary school teacher.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

It Is Your Duty

They never tell you what you’re really in for when you decide to become a teacher. I am convinced that if they did, everyone would decide they want to become something else, and teaching would be left to the homeschooling parents like Michelle Duggar, and then those parents would turn into Moms and Dads like Jon and Kate Gosselin...terrifying!!! They don’t tell you about the mounds of paper work you have to do, the long faculty meetings you must endure, usually about boosting math scores, the fundraisers you sponsor that are much more work than they are worth, and on top of all that, you sometimes have a duty. A duty is another task you have to perform during the day, such as hall duty or lunch monitoring, or holding a study hall. At my last job, I was exceptionally fortunate: I was duty free! I taught 5 classes and had 2 prep periods and a lunch period. Life was good. The first and the last period of every day were free for me to do what I wanted. This usually meant making photocopies, usually for the a cappella group I unwillingly advised (yeah, I’m still bitter), and meant I could start my plans and map out the following day.

I loved this schedule. I called these glorious free periods my “unwind time.” Any teacher will tell you that this time is essential to getting through the day. It’s the time in which you answer administrator e-mails, discuss different things with colleagues, put some good music on, and get your work done. You can close the office door and enjoy 40 minutes of no one calling your name in a shrill and accusing tone. It was the best. NO DUTY.

At my most recent job, I have the unfortunate duty of supervising the students that are serving In School Suspension or ISS 3 days in every 4 day cycle. It is a nightmare. ISS offenders are the real life equivalent of misdemeanor criminals, where the real life crimes would be something like reckless driving or petty theft. The kids that are in ISS behave too poorly to be with the “normal” kids, but not so poorly that they are not allowed to attend school for a given period of time. Essentially, it is behavioral segregation. 

The students in ISS are there for various offenses: Cursing, rough housing, bullying, inappropriate behavior, ASSAULT, ect. When I was in school, my parents would have driven to the school and murdered me if I were given ISS. If for some reason they decided to let me live, I guarantee it would have been in solitary confinement, in my room, where my meals would be slipped under the door, and I would only be allowed to leave to use the restroom, that is if they decided NOT to have a toilet installed next to my bed. In addition, I would be completely mortified. I walk the straight and narrow and being the least street savvy person to walk the earth, I would have either gotten my ass kicked, or would have confined myself to the corner where I would slowly rock back and forth, sobbing softly and saying, “I’ll be a good boy” over and over until they brought in the straight jacket.  These kids, however, show no remorse. They are well on their way to becoming hardened criminals. You know its going to be bad when there is a sheet of paper on the desk you sit at that has the words: IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY CALL SECURITY: EXT ****. Below are also listed the numbers for all of the administrators and local police.

WTF?!?!?!?! I chose not to work in an intercity school for a reason. The sheet is also pretty worn, meaning it has been used a lot. I am pretty sure they are looking for me to die there because whoever designed the room decided to put the phone 5 steps away from the desk at the front of the room. And of course, it’s on the wall opposite the door, so if you ran to make a call and one of the students intercepted you, it’s not like you can tuck and roll and make your way out the door. No, you’re trapped…just how they want you. They have also conveniently located the room UNDERGROUND. Yes, the ISS room is built into the side of a hill. There are windows, with the shades closed because bad kids don't get the luxury of looking outside, but you'll never make it to them in time to bust through the screen to freedom. Not only is the room underground, it is also huddled between a janitor's closet and the lunch detention room, so no one can hear you scream, unless it is periods 4, 5, or 6, and let's face it, the poor bastard in the lunch detention room has enough on his hands. You're on your own.

I have ISS Duty period 3 and period 9, depending on the day. No one is in the room next to me, it's just me and the 6 or 7 kids in there. My first day there, 8 kids were lucky enough to have scored ISS. They had all decided that they were going to bolt for the woods during recess, hop the fence, and make their way to the deli down the road where they would spend the day regaling each other with tales of their latest crimes. They hadn't planned on the administrators following them, hopping the fence as well (one of them did it in heels) and apprehending them. It was interesting, they rounded up "the leader" of the group, and once they had him, the others came voluntarily, resigned to their fate of spending the next 2 days in ISS. I was in no way prepared to deal with these kids. Who thought it was a good idea to put all of the school's bad kids in ONE ROOM and have a MUSIC teacher watch them? It was probably a gym teacher's idea...they hate us. I think private cells are a much better idea and, in some cases, it would prepare these students for their future days spent in various state and federal penitentiaries. Alcatraz would be a very fitting place to put these students for ISS, but I am sure that the Department of Education would never go for it…especially considering all of the tourism revenue that would be lost.

On that first day, the students were talking quietly, something they should not have been doing, and the leader was telling the others about his latest criminal exploits. Let’s call this kid Bernardo, after the Sharks gang leader in West Side Story. This kid looked nothing like Bernardo, and I am pretty sure he couldn’t pirouette, but he might own a switch blade and could have been planning a rumble, so I think it works. Bernardo apparently got into a fight at a rival school football game the weekend before and is no longer allowed to attend any school functions in that district. How sweet, his first restraining order! The way he told the story, some high schooler (Bernardo is in Middle School) was trying to “mack it with his girl” and he “punched that motha fucka in the face.” Bernardo did not feel the need to sensor himself for my benefit. Talking I can deal with, but swearing is not something I tolerate (hypocrite?). I had a former student at the high school level who swore a lot, and I told him that swearing is ok if you’re old enough to legally vote. It didn’t really help, but I thought it was clever. Anyway, I told Bernardo to watch his mouth, feeling very much like Officer Krupkie, and he stared at me and said, “Sorry, I didn’t know that ‘motha fucka’ was a bad word.”

Normally, I would have thought that a student that said that was giving me lip, but he genuinely didn’t realize that that was not acceptable language to use. What kind of home environment did this kid have? My parents certainly didn’t allow me to swear and definitely didn’t swear in front of me. I am pretty sure I would die if I ever heard that phrase uttered by either one of my parents. I learned to swear where everyone else did…high school. I guess they start them young here. Thankfully, that group of students didn’t give me any trouble, other than an obvious lack of knowledge regarding appropriate language.

The next day was not so lucky. Having been educated on the proper ISS procedures by my administrator, I now knew the kids were not allowed to talk at all, were not allowed to sit at desks next to or in front or behind of someone else, and if they did not have work to do, we were to assign them work out of the variety of textbooks located in the classroom. When I relieved the security guard, I sat at the desk up front, feeling very commanding in my light blue sweater, collared shirt, and cleanly pressed khaki pants.  As I started filling out some forms I needed to complete for the central office, one of the students started talking to one of their peers. He seemed to think that because the normal ISS person left, the normal rules no longer applied. “Nice try, kid. I know the deal now”, I thought to myself. I was prepared to enforce the rules as a private citizen, looking to keep peace and order in these scary times we live in. “We’re not talking in here” I said in my commanding teacher voice. My teacher voice consists of me raising my voice to ¾ volume and lowering the pitch of it by about half an octave, which, with my abnormally high speaking voice, makes it about the range of any normal person. This is accompanied by my eyes bulging so far out it looks like they are trying to escape my skull, my nostrils flared and ready, and the slightest lean forward. It’s pretty good. Despite my commanding voice and obviously intimidating look, the kid looked me dead in the face and said “fuck you, Grover.”

At first I was so shocked that he swore at me that I didn’t know what to do. Also, where did the whole “Grover” thing come from? I thought, mayhaps (Shout out to my Theory Classes!) it was a reference to the Percy Jackson books where Grover was a satyr and Percy Jackson’s best friend. Then I realized that, not only did that not make sense, because I have human legs and have yet to sprout horns, but this kid had probably never read a book in his life. And then it hit me…the blue sweater! He was calling me Grover from Sesame Street! That little bastard. First of all, my sweater was LIGHT blue, not ROYAL blue, and my head doesn’t split in half when I speak. I could not have looked LESS like Grover. And, out of all of the possible pop culture references, he went with Grover? That’s pretty weak. I was wearing a color that looked more like Cookie Monster (now Salad Monster…tragic.) than anything, and even then, it would have to have been Cookie Monster after he had been left in the sun too long, or gone through the washer about 30 times. The Sesame Street reference was a stretch. I called down to the office and the security guard came to escort him to his administrator’s office. Needless to say, in ISS the next day, I spent 3rd period with my Muppet loving friend!

I wish I could say that this is the worst I have seen so far, but that just wouldn’t be true. Not only do these kids have a mouth like a long shore man, they also enjoy launching projectiles (aka, throwing things). In my experience with ISS thus far, I have concluded that it would be in everyone’s best interest to have a boy’s ISS and a girl’s ISS. I’m not trying to be sexist; it is simply because the hormone clash is almost more than I can deal with. Boys in ISS like to egg each other on, propelling the stupidity to epic heights. The girls laugh and feed into it as well, but there is always a turning point. Something sets off a spark and all of a sudden a line is drawn and the room immediately becomes boys vs. girls. Sometimes it is triggered by the gentlemen, and sometimes it is triggered by the ladies (although, in this case the more accurate terms would be Pimps and Hoes or Playas and Bitches, all terms that I have heard in ISS) but regardless of who starts it, it ALWAYS happens. 

At the end of week 1 in ISS, one of the boys triggered the divide by saying that a girl was ugly. This just so happened to be the best friend of one of the girls serving time that day. They started crumpling up paper and throwing it at each other, and the other students eagerly started joining in. Some were launching paper airplanes, some pencils, thankfully no one threw chairs, although, I am sure the thought crossed their minds. In movies, when stuff like that happens at a school, we usually laugh and enjoy in the good fun. All I could think of, in the moment, was, “And this is how I lose my job…” I brought most of the order back to class, but while the other kids returned to their work, fearful that I would assign them another day in “the slammer”, the initial pair of students was still going strong. I stepped in, confiscated all of their belongings and returned to my desk. They continued to launch things , grabbing paper from their peers nearby until I raised my voice and said “ENOUGH! Continue throwing things and you will earn yourself a trip to the Principal’s Office.” The young man dug his hand in his pocket and retrieved a handful of change, which he promptly launched at my face. I used my legal pad as a shield and missed being hit, but the intent was to hurt me. I wanted to launch the kid out the window or back over him with my sweet Toyota Camry, but instead, I called security. There is something very satisfying about seeing a kid panic with fear, especially after they tried to cause you bodily harm. Before security came, he and the girl decided that they were going to pretend to be asleep to avoid getting in trouble. Really kids…REALLY? What makes you think that being asleep is going to prevent you from getting chewed out by the Vice Principal? Also, let it be known that sleeping is  NOT allowed in ISS, so even when these kids are trying to cover up their massive rule breaking, they are still breaking rules. It’s times like this that I take a step back, observe the situation, and think to myself, “This is my life now…”

Security came, a short but terrifying Italian man from Brooklyn, and after “waking up” the 2 offenders, escorted them to face their judgment. I was mollified after hearing that the boy, let’s call him Wayne because I hate that name, received 3 days of out of school suspension for his actions and the girl, Dorkus (because that name is as ridiculous as she is), received one day of out of school suspension, because it was her “3rd strike.” I’ll bet you it was more than her 3rd strike, considering she was sent to ISS for slugging a girl in the head, but I digress. 

For those of you who have a duty period, I feel your pain…literally… I am pretty sure these kids are going to hurt me! For those of you who were lucky to escape a cruel fate such as this, enjoy your innocence! Don’t take it for granted!!! And for those of you who are majoring in Music Ed, or Art Ed, or anything that people don’t consider a “core” or “academic” class, change your major. Major in Phys Ed. They get to play games, wear sweatpants, and their “teaching” periods are shorter because the kids have to change for class…possible Master’s degree? I think so.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Leave Room For Jesus



As a choral music educator, you face several challenges that people in other professions don’t encounter. Because your job is performance based, usually in a concert setting, you have to make sure that what you produce is appealing to the masses. In most cases, the masses are people who think that you should be teaching their children the latest Taylor Swift song, or that song they heard in that movie…you know, THAT REALLY GOOD MOVIE! Never mind your 4 year degree, your years of singing substantial repertoire in ensembles of every level, your collection of excellent choral recordings, and your network of fellow music teachers who have exciting music to share. We should just throw in the hat and sing “Candle in the Window” (the “Home Alone” theme) or a 4 part arrangement of “Stacy’s Mom.”  

The one problem we face most often, other than an obvious lack of proper concert etiquette and a shortage of Journey songs, is the appropriateness of religious music in public schools.  When I was in high school, my Principal once asked my Choir Teacher how many “Jesus tunes” she was doing: A prime example of musical ignorance. This small troll would venture out of her den every once and a while to eat a small child and occasionally attend a concert, if she wasn’t completely bombed after seeing the Jets lose. She would put on her crisp skirt suit, usually in a pale gray or beige, and after making her opening remarks, would hunker down, stone faced, expecting to be entertained. From her standpoint, the concert could be a complete travesty, but as long as no parents called to complain, it was a success. 

Because I grew up in a fairly progressive town (a.k.a., tons of hippies) there was an absence of the really good “Jesus Tunes”. I love a good Jesus tune. I did several religious pieces in my former job at the high school level. There is nothing I love more than white suburban kids singing gospel songs and struggling to move together on the risers. As a person with no rhythm, I feel compelled to put my students through the same disparaging movement issues I faced. That way that we can be truly be equals…and I can blog about it later. 

Now, there are several types of religious songs:

1)       Foreign Language- We choral music teachers (and by “we”, I mean “I) call these the “sneaky Jesus songs”. This is because these pieces are in Latin, German, French or Italian, and people have no idea what the words mean. Some people will flip out of you say “Jesus” in a piece, but for some reason “Jesu” flies under the radar. You can sneak it in wherever you want:, Gesu Bambino = Baby Jesus, mon Signeur Jésus = My Lord Jesus, Jesus ist mein Homeboy = Jesus is my homeboy. It works in every situation. Also, you would be shocked at how many people don’t know that Ave Maria means “Hail/Rejoice Mary”. You can get away with a ton of new testament references and avoid the “separation of church and state” crazies! And you have a valid educational reason for choosing this piece: The Language. Simply state that you are trying to incorporate some cross curricular collaboration (See "Interviewing" blog) and that you are doing your best to make the kids' educational experience more holistic. Of course, this will probably lead to you having to sing The Periodic Table song, but I love Tom Lehar, so I'm down!

2)       Southern- These are what I call SPUR-ituls. A) Because I think it is funny and B) I just assume that southern people can't correctly pronounce their "e" (or [i] for all you IPA people) vowels. This are either the super intense Jesus tunes i.e. Praise His Holy Name (RAH RAH JESUS), or they talk about God and no one knows what they mean...i.e. Wade in the Water (What water? Because there is a pond across the street, but I'm certainly not going to wade around if "God's a gonna trouble" it.) I love southern SPUR-ituls. They have really cool harmonies to generally simple tunes, which is partially what makes them so fun and challenging to sing, and who doesn't like a piece of music where "Lord" is spelled "Lawd"? No one, that's who. I think we all secretly want to be southern, just so we can talk like that and not sound like assholes. It's a whole different world down there, and I want in on it...but I don't want to have to smoke, drive a crappy truck, and have a second first name (i.e. Jim Bob and John Boy...for all of you "Waltons" fans out there). Singing these pieces is "safe southern"...the kind where you get to keep all of your teeth. It's JUUUUUUUUUUST right!

3)        Atonal- For those of you unfamiliar with this musical term, it is a fancy way of saying “This piece will sound like shit.” Some people will be offended by that statement, but I stand by it. Atonal music sucks. I am all for dissonance, but there needs to be some point of resolution so that your ears don’t bleed. Some people are exceptionally talented at accomplishing the balance between tension and resolution. But there are a great deal of atonal composers that failed their Music Theory 2 class in college and decided they could pretend to be “deep” and “troubled” if they composed stuff that sounded like putting a piano through a wood chipper. Some of these compositional failures decided that they would use their “talents” and offer their music up to God. I don’t know about him, but if they composed shit like that in my name, I’d be pissed. The up side of this is that people will be so thrown off by the lack of coherent sound that you can sing whatever text you want. Odds are the audience will be checking sports scores on their phone or texting their friends about how this concert makes them wish they were dead, so you might as well sneak in some biblical verses if you can get away with it.

4)       Traditional- These are the ones that everyone knows. Amazing Grace, There is a Balm in Gilead, He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands, Guide Me O Thou Great Redeemer, ect. This genre also covers Christmas Carols. Everyone loves a good Christmas Carol, whether you’re Christian or you believe in the alien lord Zool (Tom Cruise).Now, if you program one of these pieces AFTER the atonal garbage listed above then no one will care what the words are. They’ll be so relieved that the torture has ceased and will rejoice that they are finally hearing something that they are familiar with that the words will flow over them like a warm security blanket. Also, they will be excited because those pieces were probably sung by Celine Dion, N*Sync, Reba McIntyre, or Sting on his terrible Christmas Album (seriously, it is AWFUL), so you’re in the clear.

5)       Contemporary- These are the songs that you hear on those TV commercials for “The 100 Best Contemporary Christian Songs of the 90’s”: Awesome God, River Constantine, the gospel version of Handel’s Messiah, the list goes on and on. They are often accompanied by electric guitar or synthesizer. I have never programed one of these, partially because I still have some small shred of self-respect, and partially because the kids hate to sing that stuff as much as the audience hates to hear it. Really? “Awesome God”? Who thought that was a good idea? God has been described as omnipotent, mighty, infallible, abundant…and now “awesome”. As a younger person of faith, who this kind of music was obviously directed to, I shake my head and hang it in shame. Shame on you, contemporary Christian composers. And even more shame on you if you decided to add hand motions to your pieces. No one looks good doing hand motions… no one. 

Well, there you have it: Your guide to the “Jesus tunes” in Choral music. There are many others that I could list, but I believe that this is good framework in which to program. It doesn’t matter which religion you are, there are still things to be learned from this genre of music. When I taught Christmas Carols to my former Chamber Choir, I told them if they were offended by singing the word “Jesus” to simply pretend that they are singing about Ironman. And that my friends is called “differentiating instruction.”