Develop a Taste for Deception
I spent the better part of today helping out a friend of mine organize his new middle school band room, and the bulk of that time was spent organizing music in his library into score order. It’s normally an irredeemably tedious task for one musician, but, like many tedious tasks, it vastly improves with the presence of company.
One of the members of our troupe was his master teacher, and she was full of advice for the new music teacher.
Whenever you want something for your classroom, start your sentences with “Things are going great, but I could do so much more with the kids if I had this trinket.”
Another gem, if you see the cure for cancer growing on the crevices of the walls and windows:
Are you sure that all this room is up to Cal/OSHA standards? I mean, I don’t mind, but I’d hate for you to get into trouble.
If you want a whiteboard:
I don’t mind chalkboards, but so many kids have asthma these days — I’m not sure that keeping one around is too prudent, especially because most band members really need to breathe deeply.
Her rule of thumb:
You don’t have to kiss ass, really. You just have to put things delicately.
If I’m ever again going to even consider teaching full-time, I’ll first have to develop a tolerance, if not a taste, for doubletalk. For the time being, while I find this brand of deception somewhat intriguing, I find it far more disgusting.
That’s one of the realities of the work world.
So I’ve heard. Doesn’t stop it from being disgusting.