| | I walk, I lift up heart, eyes,
Down all that glory in the heavens to glean our Saviour;
And, eyes, heart, what looks, what lips yet gave you a
Rapturous love's greeting of realer, of rounder replies?
Gerard Manley Hopkins
Hurrahing in Harvest
I know this is an autumn poem, but I find myself humming it (what other word is there for some poetry?) during the spring. I finally posted it on my studio bulletin board the other week. Just because I'm a music teacher doesn't mean I can't celebrate poetry too.
Being a music teacher doesn't limit what I teach at all, really. I'm starting to realize that being a teacher is - well, being a teacher.
Like yesterday -
Little girl: *after stumbling through her recital piece* I can't BELIEVE how good I am at this!
Me: Well Nicole, you still have a lot of work to do.
Nicole: But I'm GOOD at it!
Me: You have improved since last week. But you don't want to be boastful about that.
Nicole: *dubiously* No . . . .
Me: Do you know what "boastful" means?
Nicole: No.
Or last week -
Little girl: Is your fiance rich?
Me: No, but he's generous, which is much better.
Little girl: What's that?
Or today -
Me: Is that a half rest or a whole rest?
Student: Half rest.
Me: How do you know?
Student: It sits on top of the third line, like a hat. A whole rest hangs down from the fourth line, like a hole.
Me: That mnemonic device really works, doesn't it?
Student: Um, yeah.
Me: Do you know what mnemonic means?
Student: No.
Me: Well, there's this Greek word mnemoneuo . . . .
Sometimes I do have to restrain myself. 
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| | Posted 4/29/2008 12:04 PM - 31 views - 1 comments
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