In the world of school bands, high school programs receive the most attention. We hear stories of high-profile performances, extensive travel, and contest glory. Middle school directors work behind the scenes to prepare students for these high school adventures. Despite less salary and minimal glory, middle school directors have a unique perspective on the emotions and awkwardness of middle school students. Here is a day in the life of a middle school director.
2:30 AM: Thoughts run through my head. Why am I awake? I’ll doze until my alarm goes off. I bet my band room will be warm even though it’s cold outside. I’d better layer my clothes. I need to copy the music on my desk before rehearsal. Coffee is my friend. Sigh, we are out of coffee in the band office, and I will have to stop on the way in to school. Is Walmart open all night?
3:30 AM: The term ends on Friday, and a student hasn’t finished his playing test. I think of ways to convince him to finish and dread the lengthy parent email faulting my teaching and motivational skills.
4:45 AM: I am not certain I can adult today. I wonder if I can wear jeans on a Thursday.
5:30 AM: Walmart is open.
5:45 AM: I imagine a huge pushing arm shoving slow drivers off the road.
6:10 AM: The copy machine is broken, but the coffee pot works
6:55 AM: The student-led Question of the Day begins before rehearsal. I listen from my desk while they talk. I am proud that they do this respectfully on their own, but wish I could bottle up that energy.
6:57 AM: Take the student to the nurse’s office with a bloody nose.
6:58 AM: Check for stray blood and remember training “If it is wet and sticky and not yours, don’t touch it.” The stray blood check is negative.
7:00 AM: Rehearsal, I spend the next 35 minutes educating young minds and quietly questioning every decision in my life that has led me here. They have momentarily forgotten everything we have worked on for the past two months. The concert is tonight.
7:45 AM: Debrief rehearsal with colleagues, with the office door closed. My amazing colleagues and the closed door are the reasons I don’t get fired.
8:00 AM: Turn in attendance, read emails again, send encouraging response to the parent about the playing test. listen to MakeMusic exercises, grade Goal Sheets, update gradebook, begin weekly update email to go out tomorrow, update social media accounts to hype said concert, and call doctor’s office to refill my son’s medication.
8:15 AM: Finish none of that, welcome students for group lessons that now rotate until lunch.
9:30 AM: Colleague brings me a cup of the coffee I brewed three hours ago. Manna from heaven.
Lunch: I attempt to eat while working with students, trying to catch up before the end of the term tomorrow. Otherwise known as National Save My Grade Day. I recall that my contract guarantees a 30-minute duty-free lunch. I can’t remember the last time I had that.
12:00 PM: Text message from my son: “I don’t feel good.” The response includes nice words to mask the underlying message – stay at school unless you are vomiting or bleeding from the eyes.
12:05 PM: More small group lessons. My brain hurts. This class has four students in different units. One forgot his lunch and is hungry. One girl forgot the music in her locker and disappears to retrieve it. Another student is on the verge of tears due to nerves about the concert. The final one is annoyed that the lesson hasn’t started on time.
12:30 PM: Email from parent about student not attending the concert tonight.
12:42 PM: Email from another parent about another student not attending concert tonight.
12:43 PM: I question everything about teaching band while continuing to teach like all is well.
1:30 PM: Can I reheat this cup of coffee, or should I just admit defeat?
2:14 PM: The school day ends.
2:20 PM: Discover that the gym is full of basketball players. This is the same gym where 20 student volunteers have stayed after school to set up for the concert. I hunt down the administrator to discuss.
2:40 PM: Begin setting up for the concert in the gym.
4:15 PM: Head out for dinner during Senior Citizens’ hour. Pass on the wine, sadly.
5:30 PM: Dress for the concert at school. I am a pro at the quick change into formal wear in the staff bathroom, and am usually ready faster than my two male colleagues.
5:45 PM: Apparently, not tonight.
6:00 PM: Greet the first early bird parents and students and fix last-minute equipment issues. I find the microphone and wonder why it is so loud.
6:15 PM: Help students fix bow-ties, take pictures for the end-of-the-year banquet. Use my band director superpowers to heal a clarinet. Remind the percussion section to warm up appropriately. Again. And to tie their shoes.
6:20 PM: Ask a student where his bowtie is. He insists he never got one.
6:22 PM: Hug my son, who apparently feels better and came 45 minutes to town to surprise me and attend the concert. My boyfriend, who I haven’t seen in so long that he felt the need to drive an hour to a middle school band concert to catch sight of me in my natural habitat, also came along. I haven’t seen him yet though.
6:30 PM: Group warm-up begins.
6:32 PM: Late student arrives.
6:50 PM: Motivational encouragement for my bandlings out loud; prayers in my head that no one throws up.
6:55 PM: Leave to line up for the grand entrance into the gym. This time I beat my male colleagues.
7:00 PM: Concert. Shift between multiple roles: band director, recording engineer, Vanna White (displaying handouts during announcements), and comedian. Some ventures are more successful than others.
8:00 PM: No one threw up. Concert over. The students sounded great. I try to avoid impromptu parent-teacher conferences.
8:10 PM: Visit with former students who came back to hear the band.
8:30 PM: Finally hug boyfriend.
8:40 PM: Close doors after everyone is gone. Debrief with colleagues.
8:50 PM: Start long drive home. Remember coffee mug is still sitting on my desk, with coffee in it.
9:00 PM: Realize how tired I am. Answer the phone and gratefully debrief more with my colleague as we drive home 45 minutes in opposite directions. Managed to stay awake.
9:40 PM: Arrive home. Have a long, meaningful conversation with my teenage son (really) because this is the best time to make life-altering decisions. Debate the ability to nap with my eyes open and my brain recording things to address tomorrow.
10:15 PM: Shower while making a mental list of what has to occur before the 7:00 AM rehearsal.
10:30 PM: Answer student emails about Friday and update social media to reflect how well the concert went. Answer a parent’s email about student grades.
11:00 PM: I can’t sleep.
