WHITHER MUSIC TEACHING?
Graham Meale, November 1990
It's September. You've just heard that nineteen have elected music for next year's junior elective. You haven't heard yet what magic number is needed to form a class. But you go in search of a list. Who are these nineteen budding Beethovens whose young and enquiring minds you will guide along the road to discovery?
There's Gloria Smudd. Has been learning piano from Sister Mattick at the convent since she was six. A strict diet of Mozart and Mendelssohn. Could probably play a B flat minor arpeggio in contrary motion while riding a pushbike upside-down underwater. Likely to cry if not top of the class. Parents heavily involved with the P&C.
Then there's Kaz Sideburn. Drops into school occasionally between court appearances if the surf's no good. Intends to leave school as soon as possible to become a roadie. Has chosen music to play drums and will probably produce a knife if asked to do anything else.
Pearl Papagopolis and Crystal Fountain. Doing music because Kaz is: they think he's "a bit of a spunk".
Peter Smart. Mum and Dad have made him learn clarinet and theory since before he could walk, and it's finally paid off, because now he can spend two years in elective music doing practically nothing and still get good marks.
Laura Tryhard. Can't do anything much in any subject. But loves music. Major co-ordination problems on every instrument. Can't sing in tune. You know that even if you spend every minute of every period with her on an individual basis, the chances of her ever doing well are still zero.
The list goes on. But there are some notable omissions. Prudence Peabody, one of the most talented and motivated kids in her year was sure she was going to do music. But she also wanted to do home science and agriculture and drama, and she could only pick two. Mum and Dad said not to do music, because she's already having lessons at the Yamaha organ place. Likewise John Clever, who wanted to do music, electronics and computers, dropped out of music because he's already in the band. And his cousin Tracey who's done sixth grade violin, plays in several local groups and goes to all sorts of music camps throughout Australia, but isn't doing school music because it's a waste of time.
There's a story of a music teacher who fell from the top of Centrepoint tower. As he plummeted past a tenth floor window he was heard to utter the words "I'm OK so far". A lot of things have happened in schools in the last few years, and it's more common for music teachers to begin fearing for their future. Carrick, Excellence & Equity et al have recommended that the expressive arts still get about the same slice of the cake, but that the expressive arts no longer embrace just music and art, but drama, dance, ballet and more. And principals are coming under increasing pressure to include all of these. Many principals value a healthy music department, but often this is only to produce music on tap for presentation nights, special assemblies, canteen ladies' luncheons and so on. At the risk of stating the obvious, without classes to teach there won't be any music teachers, and all these extra-curricular things won't happen.
The discussion at the end of the recent meeting at Maclean revolved around these issues. Elective classes, particularly senior ones, are borderline in many schools. With the state of the economy and the "back-to-basics" drive, the core subjects are enjoying a renaissance. Kids work at them no matter how uninteresting they find them, because they'll open doors. The would-be lawyers, architects, doctors wouldn't have a bar of music — pardon the pun — not after what the careers adviser has said.
You put away your list of next year's new junior elective students. You ponder whether you'll kick off the year with Led Zeppelin or Wagner's leitmotifs. Then you hear it's all irrelevant anyway. The magic number's twenty.