A Lark and a Prayer:  Music in the Classroom

Last week, I was reminded of the importance of music.  This reminder came in the form of a six-year-old girl named Lark.  While Lark and I were working together on some expressive and receptive language tasks,  she began to hum.  I asked Lark if she could save the song for later and she shook her head “no.”  I smiled and told her to sing to me.  She replied, “Do you want the instrumental or vocal version?”  I tried not to laugh.  I knew Lark was bright, but I didn’t realize she was gleaming!  And music made her shine. So, I told her to give me the instrumental version first, and then when we were done with the language tasks, she could also share the vocal version.

Lark began to hum and play her air piano.  It was a sweet and upbeat melody.  I wondered if she was actually playing the correct notes. I bet she was!  After she performed for me, we went back to the task at hand, which was following oral directions.  This is a skill that Lark is learning.  She often goes where her musical mind takes her, and I was trying to help her become aware of when her mind wanders and how to regain attention.  I’m not sure I succeeded.  I think she understood what I was trying to tell her, but the pull of the music in her head was probably greater. When we completed the tasks, I sat back and let Lark serenade me with her lyrical song.  It was about little flowers growing.  Of course!  What else would a girl named Lark sing about?  I had to compose myself throughout her song because I felt like laughing and weeping at the same time. I had in front of me curiosity, imagination, and creative spark.  I hoped that I could nurture it.  I hoped I could make others see the power of Lark’s imagination. 

This time with Lark made me think of my time as a classroom teacher many years ago.  When I taught 2^nd and 3^rd grade, I deliberately found space in the day to add music: playing recorded music that reflected what the children were learning, collaborating as a class to compose lyrics about taking care of the earth, and creating musical show-and-tell sessions in which students showcased their instrumental and vocal explorations. There was a boy, Michael,  in my 2^nd grade class, like Lark, who loved to hum.  He hummed all the time, even during quiet work time, which didn’t bother me, but did annoy his classmates.  One day after school, Michael stayed after all his classmates had left. He told me that he wasn’t trying to be bad, he just had music playing in his head all the time.  Songs just came to him.  I told him that I understood, and we found a place in the classroom where he could sit where his humming would be less of a distraction to the others.  I didn’t tell him he had to stop humming.  I knew he had a gift, and I wanted to honor it. 

I realized that many of my students took private music lessons, and I began having Friday music show and tell times.  It was a wonderful sharing experience.  Michael also played the violin beautifully, and as fate could have it, he grew up to become a concert violinist and played Carnegie Hall.  I often think about what would have happened if I had squashed Michael’s musical talent.  What if I treated his humming as a nuisance instead of a gift?  It could be easy for a teacher to do.  There’s so much on our plates, so much to teach, so much to learn.  The artistic or creative can often be seen as superfluous, but actually they are essential, and they need time and space to grow.