He Has to Bring a Pencil.
Dylan texted me after his first chorus class.
“I think I’m gonna mess things up and drop chorus.”
“What? Why?” I asked, befuddled. Of all the classes I thought would be a problem for my ADHD child, chorus was not one of them.
The choral director is an accomplished professor. She has two Masters degrees and a Doctoral degree, and her experience is extensive. She is a solo performer, composer, conductor, arranger and vocal group consultant. Her bio includes words like “pedagogue” and “adjudicator” (which I had to look up in the dictionary). She has worked with a slew of famous conductors, but the only name I recognize is Bobby McFerrin (who sang Don’t Worry; Be Happy).
So she is rather particular with what she expects from her choruses. For example, sheets of music need to be printed double-sided, or taped together with double-sided tape. Students must have a pencil at every rehearsal. And – imagine – she expects her students to know how to read music.
Guess who doesn’t know how to read music?
Dylan was in a group like this when he was in sixth grade. His choral director wanted all of her students to read music, so she showed them how they would hold their black binders in front of them, to follow along. Dylan held his black binder the proper way, and never looked at the sheet music. He listened to the song once, heard his part, and memorized it. Then he just sang it perfectly, from memory, for every rehearsal. When the teacher told him to look at his music, he did. But mostly he looked straight ahead, because he didn’t need that music.
Dylan also learned how to play the piano – without lessons. He can play almost anything – without proper technique, and without sheet music. In fact, if you give him sheet music, it just sits there.
Dylan has been in several choral groups. And he spent some time with his voice instructor, practicing reading music. But at the college level, things are a bit different.
And he has to bring a pencil.
I spent the entire weekend, and well into the following week, worrying about him dropping chorus. I didn’t want him to go an entire semester without singing, although he is taking voice lessons on campus as well.
I worried and fretted. I studied all the other choral groups. In fact, at one point, I (literally) accidentally signed up Dylan for a smaller ensemble. Fortunately, he was able to quickly drop it, no harm done.
Bill and I talked about how important it is for him to learn to read music, and knew that he would learn if he stayed in this particular chorus. Plus, Dylan would be in a world-class chorus!
But he could forget his pencil once too often, and fail the class.
After five days, Dylan returned to his chorus for Day Two. It was the last day to drop a class, and he didn’t even want to go. But Bill told Dylan to try it once more, just in case it had been simple, first-day jitters.
So Dylan went to class, one more time, just in case. And after that class, I got another text: “I’m definitely going to stay in this class.”
Huh, I thought. All of my worrying was for nothing – again!
“Why?” I texted back. “What changed your mind?”
“We sound really good,” Dylan said.
So Dylan is now in a world-class chorus, where he will learn to read music. And he can stay in that chorus, too, as long as he remembers his pencil.