Today was the first day back to school after break, where it’s a combination of excitement to see friends again and sleepiness from the early morning wake-up call.  The fifth graders shuffled into my room this morning, most of them looking like they wanted to head back to bed.  This is actually nice because behavior issues drop off considerably – they’re just too tired to misbehave!  Then came my chatty 3rd and 2nd graders, all excited to tell me, each other and my student teacher all about their holiday, the things they did (or didn’t do) and what they received as gifts.

Then after lunch came Kindergarten.  I warned my student teacher that they would all want to stop on their way in and tell me all about their break, and of course they did.  Imagine five and six year olds jockeying for position like racehorses at the Derby to see who could get to me first and keep talking while others try to push their way in.  As I finally get them to their dots in the room, I introduce my student teacher, letting the students know that she is a teacher just like me and that they need to make sure they follow her directions just like they follow mine (ha!). Then this little voice shouts out, “because you’re Queen of the music room!”, to which I reply, “Why yes.  Yes I am!”.

Queen of the Music Room.  Only in music does this work.  Okay, maybe art, but could you imagine the Queen of Math?  Really?  The King of Computers? The Princess of Punctuation? Just doesn’t have the same ring.  Ah, but music –  music is magical and so the title of Queen seems perfect. Just picture it – a tambourine for a crown and boomwhacker as a scepter.  I’m sure I could use one of my scarves as a cape.  Purple of course.  Name any other class that has the same accoutrements available to them at all times.

I don’t always feel like Queen of the Music Room.  Some days I can feel more like an evil queen or a bit like Cinderella, worked to the bone.  But today as I listened to one of my boys tell me he had special powers to be able to know someone’s voice without even looking at them, I knew we were in a magical kingdom.  He also said his senses were tingling.  I suppose we can have Spiderman and a Queen.  It is magical.

Towards the end of class we focused on snowflakes.  We watched a feather fall to the ground like a snowflake and tried to move like the feather.  We talked about how quietly the feather moved and listened closely to see if we could hear it land on the floor. Then we played music to accompany the feather falling on glockenspiels, a wonderful tinkling sound like fairies dancing on ice.  So quiet. The class listened while friends played the instruments, oohed and aahed, describing the sound as beautiful.  And then we played a game where a whole bunch of snow (feathers) was tossed at them and if they were touched by the snow, they were out.  There is truly nothing more magical then watching a child share an excited smile or giggle as they wait to see where the feather floats, and cheers when it floats away from them or lands on their heads.  Nothing more magical then hearing children excitedly say “Again! Again!” in the hopes of playing one more time.

So as Queen of the Music Room, I have the responsibility of teaching them all about  musical concepts and terms, but I also have the responsibility of helping them to experience the magic of music.  That indescribable art form that makes them feel things and inspires them to think and imagine.  As we begin the second semester, I need to remember to spend a bit more time creating magic and maybe less time creating assessments.  After all, isn’t it important  for students to know that music can be soft and that music can be beautiful?  It’s Magical.