Just A Summary

Open Ears, Open Mind, Open Mouth. Music Making Made Easy

Blurb

Our bodies are the most versatile and sophisticated musical instrument we know. From the complexities of making at beat with our hands and feet to the surprising simplicity of harmony singing, we are all of us musicians.

Abstract

Musicmaking isn’t some kind of sophisticated profession that requires the intervention of gatekeepers and techno priests. You don’t need autotune, you don’t need a record label, you don’t need drums, a guitar or anything else but your hands, feet, ears, brain and mouth to make music that will satisfy you for the rest of your life.

By the end of this talk I promise that, unless you are one of a tiny, tiny minority of people, you’ll not be tone deaf, you’ll be damn near pitch perfect. And you’ll have a song in your head that, unless I have seriously misjudged the people who come to OSCON, you’ll want to teach to everyone you know.

Come along. Clap your hands. Stamp your feet and sing. What have you got to lose?

I’m very nearly ready to release acts_as_resource, I just have to pull up and tidy code that’s currently in my working directory’s ApplicationController and we’re laughing. However, I thought you’d like to see what my nested controller looks like.

It’s been a while I know, mostly because I’ve been staggered by the workload associated with the teacher training course. Such a staggering workload in fact that I’ve decided to drop out for the time being and get some more experience in the classroom as a teaching assistant before hopefully reapplying for a more local PGCE course next year.

Why? Frankly I was completely unprepared for the course. I had problems with time management (I’m not quite sure how, but I’ve managed to get through life so far without worrying over much about time management beyond knowing that my wife keeps the authoritative version of our diary), paperwork (everything’s on my wiki, why do I need to print it out?) and in managing to frame my lessons in terms that all the kids could understand (this last had implications for behaviour management: kids who don’t understand get bored, and bored kids cause trouble. For the life of me I still can’t understand why the year 7 bottom set were so well behaved; I managed to bamboozle them in almost every lesson).

I hope that getting some experience working as a teaching assistant will give me a slightly more gentle introduction to the art of time management, and also give me plenty of opportunity to see how experienced teachers explain mathematical ideas to children. I found that, because I was trying to explain topics that had never given me problems I wasn’t able to anticipate where the kids were having problems; observing more lessons, and working one to one with kids, should help with that.

Once upon a time, when the world was young, I sat my O levels. I passed 10 of the blighters. That was 20 years ago and, as these things are wont to do, my examination certificates have been mislaid. For strange reasons I have a bit of paper to prove that achieved grade 3 at the flute, and another to prove that I could swim 100 metres at the age of 9, but if I have to prove that I got an A grade at O level maths, no joy.

For most of my life, this has not been a problem; I went on to get A levels and a degree in mathematics, and since about my second job even these qualifications have been pretty much irrelevant — employers were far more concerned with my experience and references.

Except now, I’m about to start training as a teacher. For some reason, being in possession of a degree certificate from Nottingham University proving that I have a BSc in Mathematics (which, amongst other things required me to have passed O levels in Maths, English Language and a modern foreign language), the rules are that I must prove that I’ve got appropriate qualifications (GCE O level in my case) in Maths and English by presenting an official piece of paper to that effect.

So, after quizzing my parents closely in case they’d hung onto said pieces of paper, I racked my brains to remember which board I’d sat my exams with — The JMB — got in touch with the AQA in Manchester and sent them a cheque, photocopy of my passport, and an application form and, after nearly four weeks, they sent me back a statement of results. Very nice it is too. Except that it appears I didn’t get my Maths O level from the JMB.

Bugger.

I got it from the AEB; I could have sworn it was A levels that were AEB, but apparently not. So now, I have to get in touch with the AQA in Guildford; send them another cheque, photocopy and application form; and wait four weeks. Which is all very well, but my course starts on the 13th of September.

So, kids, if anyone ever tells you that your GCSE certificates are next to useless once you’ve gone on to further qualifications, don’t believe ‘em. Hang on to them. Okay, so it’s unlikely that you’ll ever need them, but it’s far easier just to present a piece of paper that you have handy than it is to dredge up memories from 20 years ago and still get the examination board wrong.

Oh yes, as part of the interview process for the teacher training course, we potential maths teachers all had to sit a copy of last year’s GCSE exam. Which was a shock since I’d done no revision whatsoever. It’s surprising how it all comes back though; I answered every question and I presume I didn’t commit too many howlers or I wouldn’t have the problems I’ve got now.