Flashbacks to Marching Band

Recently, a graduate from my high school posted an open question on Facebook, "You know you went to Fairfield Union High School if...". When curiosity finally got the best of me, I began reading the comments, many of which were from classmates I haven't seen or heard from in years. And since I was one of several graduates who returned to my high school after college to begin my teaching career (in my case as the band director), I became intrigued by what my former students were writing about me and my teaching colleagues from the 70s and early 80s. My former students now range in age from 45- 56.

I have to admit, what I've read has been fascinating. I feel like an evaluation of my work has been occurring all over again. Here's a sampling of what they recall:

·         I was tough and demanded the highest form of discipline.

·         I worked my students hard.

·         Students knew they were expected to perform and excel at a high level.

·         We held marching band practices in rain, snow, excessive heat, and bitter cold.

·         We were a family.

My former students remember incidences that I've long forgotten. But they remember the way I handled them as well as the people involved who became part of the school’s folklore. I remember some of the complaints and occasionally worried that perhaps my teaching style and rehearsal methods were too extreme. But time shapes our memories, in this case very fondly. Despite the love of music that they learned under my tutelage, it was the sense of discipline, work ethic, and pride that they valued even more. Many have described ways that those characteristics have carried them to success in their varied careers.

I wasn't their only teacher, of course. Facebook fans are also reflecting on the characteristics and idiosyncrasies of many other teachers and the pranks they pulled as part of high school. They remember how their teachers walked, talked, dressed, smelled - and cared. The smallest things made lasting impressions. It doesn't take much reading to discover the teachers that the students liked and who they didn't.

The point of my writing about things such as this in this blog is to remind afterschool professionals that you, too, will someday be fair game for an informal evaluation by your students when they become reflective about their time with you. You probably won't discover their feedback about you via Facebook, but rather, some kind of communication media we can't even imagine today. After all, for my former students who are reflecting about me, the slide rule was high tech for them when we shared those special high school years.

Never waver from your values. Set high expectations. Kids will rise up and meet them. Communication is essential. Listen. Smile. Dress professionally. Show that you care. Have fun.

Kids are always watching. The realization that my former students  now respect (for the most part) what we collectively did to become a successful marching band creates a sense of pride within me that is worth more than any amount of money.

Paul G. Young, Ph. D.

President & CEO

National AfterSchool Association

Adapting the Tiger Mom Mind-Set for Adults

Since its release earlier this year, Amy Chua’s book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother (Penguin, 2011) has elicited strong reactions and criticisms, both pro and con, about parenting and the rearing of the children in America. Throughout the book, Chua, a Yale law professor and mother of two Chinese-American daughters, describes how she and her husband (also a Yale law professor) set high expectations for their children and settled for nothing less than perfection. Her daughters were never allowed to attend sleepovers, have playdates, watch TV or play computer games, or get any grades less than A.  They were expected to be first in their class and also maintain rigorous afterschool practice schedules on piano or violin.

Chua describes the Chinese way of parenting (Chinese or not) as much more rigorous than Western methods. “Most of the other students at the school had liberal Western parents, who were weak-willed and indulgent when it came to practicing” (p.27). Her philosophy and parenting methods might see appalling, cruel, and heartless, yet her daughters excelled in academics, piano, and violin.

Earlier in May, I blogged about the need for afterschool professionals to evaluate the levels of rigor we expect for all children and youth, both during and after school. I got little argument that we should collectively strive for higher expectations for children and youth in our programs.

But now, let’s focus on adult expectations.

Is it cruel and heartless to expect the employees in our afterschool programs to increase expectations and settle for nothing less than their best everyday? As program leaders, are we too weak? Are we too lax? Do we adhere to high enough standards? Are we so focused on doing and saying what is politically correct that we fail to resolve plaguing issues? Are we satisfied too quickly and so easily that we’ve grown comfortable with the status quo and mediocrity?

My guess is that these questions raise doubts, concerns, and haunting memories among most of us. Too many of us have become accustomed to overlooking adult mistakes or accommodating a poor work ethic in order to avoid a confrontation. We continuously deal with student behaviors that could be prevented if the adults would simply supervise and do their jobs. We allow too many “adult issues” to get in the way of staff members actually performing their jobs – and at proficient levels.

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is more than a memoir about the contrasts and differences between Chinese v. Western child rearing. It implies as much about how we approach the rigor and quality of our professional development programs and the expectations that we, as adults, have of each other.

One might disagree with Amy Chua (and me), but there is much to consider, debate, and reflect upon within the pages of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. Schedule a staff book study and raise some key issues about practices and methodology from both the perspectives of student and adult performance and achievement.  Those reflections should spark some lively discussions and fruitful outcomes.

Reference:  Chua, Amy (2011). Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. New York: Penguin Press.