Or the fact that I had two students email me to tell me they were sick but still showed up to class anyway and practically cough on me as they asked about their failing grades.
Nope. It has nothing to do with the fact that it's finals week. I'm stressed for my students that I teach. They have presentations and a writing project due this week. I've also been a bit stressed about finishing my NaNoWriMo project (which I didn't), and finishing my creative writing classes. I practiced drums on Tuesday last week, for about ten minutes. That's all I could get in before passing out on the couch, tissues littered around my infested area, and Star Wars playing on the TV. I'd called in sick from work (which I never do!). The two weeks before last, I didn't practice at all. Blame NaNoWrimo. I was frantically character sketching and writing as much as I could for the challenge. Blame finals week. I had to prepare tests, presentation examples and instructions, grade past quizzes and conference with students on their essays. These might be reasons why I didn't practice like I should have--- but they didn't make me sick. It's karma. You don't practice, you get sick. Drumming is good for your health. If you don't drum, you could get sick.
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The last time I donated blood was in 2013. When the sign up list went around at church last month, I stared at the clipboard, trying to remember why it'd been such a long time since I'd donated. Then I remembered. Oh, yeah. China. I went to China, Summer 2014, and they don't let you donate for three years after traveling to China or Africa. Before my trip to China, I would donate about once a year. I considered it my heroic act. (I think I once got a t-shirt that said "I'm a hero for donating!") I did the math quickly in my head. Three years had passed, so I signed the clipboard.
I sat in the chair and let the talkative student nurse take my pulse and ask me whether I'd had sex with anyone with HIV and if I'd gotten a tattoo within the last week. She confirmed that it'd been three years since I'd been in China. Before I knew it, I was lying on a pop-up hospital bed and someone was touching my forearm to find a vein.
Then I remembered something. Last time I donated, I got a bit dizzy. I had to lie on the floor with the fan blowing on my face. The time before that, I had to teach right after, and I nearly passed out in class. ha ha! ugh... Great time to remember that. Long story short: I didn't pass out. I didn't throw up. But they gave me an ice pack for my neck and draped a giant red barf bag over me. It covered me like a blanket. Honestly, do people throw up that much? They told me to breath, squeeze my butt cheeks, squeeze the wooden stick (what happened to the stress balls?) and not think about it. Luckily I brought my iPod. I cranked up the volume, but it wasn't helping too much. Then, Shinedown's "Crow and the Butterfly" song came on. Simon (my drum teacher) taught me to count it in triplets. Yes, it's 12/8 time or something, but he says it's simpler to count it in triplets. I tossed the barf bag off me. I won't need it, I told myself, and I counted the song in triplets. "1-triplet, 2-triplet, 3-triplet, 4-triplet..." It worked! The color returned to my face. I breathed easier. When it ended, I put it on repeat and did it again. Out loud. I didn't care who stared. It got me through my nervousness. So the moral of the story is this: drumming saves lives, mine (because I hate throwing up!) and those I donated to. There are probably a lot of reasons why I didn't continue drumming in junior high, but I think one might be this idea or feeling I got that said, girls don't play drums.
A couple weeks ago, I read an interesting article for my creative writing class. It was about gender stereotypes. The author used the Let Toys Be Toys campaign as a sort of springboard to talk about children's books. Basically, the article is all about this idea that we shouldn't be labeling interests as a boy interest or a girl interest. Just let toys be toys and books be books. I'd like to add: let drums be drums! The author, Tricia Lowther, says, "Typical themes for boys include robots, dinosaurs, astronauts, vehicles, football and pirates; while girls are allowed princesses, fairies, make-up, flowers, butterflies, fashion, and cute animals. There's nothing wrong with these things, but it is wrong when they are repeatedly presented as only for one gender. Girls can like pirates and adventure, boys can like magic and dressing up." If you went back in time and interviewed me at 13 years old and asked if I was quitting drums because girls don't play drums, I'd probably tell you, "No. That doesn't matter to me." I'd think of a million other excuses to give you. And some of them might be true. Like I said, there were probably many reasons why I quit. At the heart of all these reasons, though, I think you'd find that I just wanted to fit in. (Who doesn't at age 13?) In the end, I'd be lying to you. I probably, very much, felt that girls don't play drums, and I'd be better off in choir or doing some other kind of interest that was more readily acceptable for a girl. Tricia Lowther says, "Children are individuals. They should feel free to choose their own interests, not feel that they're supposed to like or reject certain things." How I wish I had known that in 7th grade. In the very least, I wish my band teacher had approached me and encouraged me to stick with drums. I didn't feel valued as a percussionist. I needed someone to say out loud, "You know, drums aren't just for boys," and show me some great women drummers like Cindy Blackman, Jen Ledger, Stefanie Eulinberg, etc. I love that today we have programs like the Hit Like A Girl Contest. As stated on their website, their "purpose is to spotlight female drummers/percussionists and encourage drumming and lifelong musicianship for girls and women, regardless of age or playing level." As part of my creative writing homework, I had to create a character who broke gender stereotypes, so a girl that likes typically things boys like or a boy that likes things girls usually like. My character is a 15 year old girl who plays the drums. I got an A on the assignment, which was good news for my grade, but sad news that the stereotype still exists. If you know girls who play the drums, keep encouraging them. Don't let them quit like I did. It's super hard to get back to it as an adult. I'd glad I am. I love Drum Ambition. It's just hard. Yeah--- let's kill the gender stereotype. Let's let drums be drums. The door opens with a "bing-bong." I wasn't expecting a door bell, like I'm walking into a dentist office or something. This is far from a dentist office, though (thank goodness!). Two soft sofas sit on aluminum flooring with a bookshelf filled with music books. One of the shelves holds a box filled with drum sticks. It's labeled: Weapons of Mass Percussion. I hear a Beatles song playing from an iPod or stereo somewhere behind a big black reception desk. A Jimmy Hendrix poster grins at the poster of Luke and Leia holding light sabers. On the far wall of the reception area, I see large pictures of kids playing guitars and drums on stage, like they're the opening act for Muse or Queen. "I have a 2:45 appointment?" I tell the two people sitting behind the desk. The girl has curly long hair, and the guy is wearing a red-orange beanie, like he might go skiing later.The wall behind them is bright orange with calendars and sticky note reminders all over it. Last week, I called for a lesson because I got a coupon for a free lesson with School of Rock by submitting to the Hit Like A Girl Contest. "You're Kassie," the girl says. She smiles as brightly as the wall behind her. "Have a seat. Eddie will be ready for you soon." I notice that she's carrying an awkward square box. "Yeah-- the bass drum head needs replacing," she explains. "We have a 17 year old who--- well, he's a great drummer! He's just... well?" "Hard on drums?" I guess. She nods, and I sit in the sofa that looks like a zebra. "Eddie will need to replace this, and then he'll be ready for you." "I'm early," I say, and pull out my book. She takes her box down the hall and returns to her desk before I can finish one page of my book. She asks me questions: where I live, what I like playing, etc. I'm not usually shy, but for some reason, I keep my answers quick and quiet. She seems really genuine, but I have butterflies in my stomach. She said something on the phone about Sum 41. Was I having a lesson with the drummer from Sum 41? "How long have you been playing?" she asks, and the guy in the beanie leans his elbows on the table, listening for my answer. I hesitate. I'm not sure how much of my story they want to hear, and I'm not sure how to answer. "Consistently?" I ask. They both smile and shrug as if saying, Sure! Whatever you want to tell us. We're cool! I decide to tell them that I've been playing for two years, but afterwards I wonder if I should have told them one year because that's how long I've been with DrumAmbition. The boy asks me who my favorite band is, to which I say Foo Fighters. We talk for a bit, and before I know it, a tall skinny guy wearing a black tank top and jeans comes in the room and smiles at me. "Kassie?" he says. "Eddie?" I say back. He nods and invites me back into a music studio down the hall. I watch his tattoo arms lead the way, while I fidget with my sticks and stuff my book into my purse. There are two identical black drum sets in a room with padded walls. Eddie tells me to pick one. I choose the one away from the door so I'll have my back to the wall and be able to see him teaching me better. (Really, it doesn't matter!) I regret my decision later and don't tell him. Imagine you're driving a friend's car, and your friend is much taller than you. His seat will be much farther back, right? It makes for awkward driving, right? That's how it was for me. Because his snare was so high, his seat so far back, etc.... it made for awkward playing. He asks me questions about myself, and I try to be less shy and quiet than I was with the front desk people. He asks me what kind of music I'm "into right now," to which I tell him that Foo Fighters are my favorite, but I'm going to a Shinedown concert in April. Before I know it, he's looking up "The Crow and the Butterfly" by Shinedown on YouTube on his phone, which is connected to two headphones.
Even though Eddie hasn't heard the song before (which I think is crazy!), he's able to tell that the time signature is 12/8. He gives me a quick lesson on time signature, using a whiteboard, and then he maps out the general beat of the song.
He helps me count it, and before I know it, we're practicing the beat together and figuring out the bridges. By the end of the lesson, I'm able to keep with the time and hit at least one of the bridges, but I'm itching to get to my own set where I'm more comfortable. The butterflies in my stomach laugh when I make mistakes, but I laugh with them until they finally fly away, and I'm able to just enjoy the drums. Eddie's "secret weapon"? He taught me to bounce my left foot in time as an additional metronome. He says, "If you watch Neil Peart from Rush, you'll see his left foot is always bobbing to the beat. That's because he does some crazy things with his his hands, and he's got to keep time." The lesson ends with Eddie saying he's got another appointment, but he talks to me like he'll see me tomorrow or something. (I wish!) Live lessons are great, but super expensive! (For good reason, of course!) I think I'll stick with DrumAmbition a bit longer, but I'm looking forward to submitting another video with HLAG so I can get another free coupon. In my book, I've already won the contest. That free lesson was awesome! I found the secret to consistency. At least, it works for me.
I set an alarm on my phone for 5:30pm. I'm always home at this time. My phone is either on my study desk or on the bed. I'm either grading, talking with Hubby, or reading a book when the alarm goes off. I yell, (to Hubby's amusement) "hi drums! I'm coming!" and get to the drum set for practice. Sometimes I feel tired after work, or I'm engrossed in my grading or book, so I allow myself to hit the "snooze," button once or twice, usually yelling, "hi drums! I'll call you back!" as I do. I drum while dinner is cooking. I usually start thinking about dinner around 5 or 5:30pm. Recently, I've started utilizing my drum pad, which means that I can start dinner in the kitchen and set up my drum pad in the adjacent room. I can keep an eye on dinner. I use the timer as not only a way to tell me to check on the food, but as my practice time. I hit the practice pad until the timer goes off. Yesterday, I threw a frozen pizza in the oven. Hubby had something that night, so I was alone. Sometimes that happens. I drummed while the pizza cooked. Then, I cut some slices, put them on a paper towel and sat on the floor with it and my drum pad. I ate and drummed. Call it a dinner date with my drumming! As many of you know, I teach ESL. This means that my classroom is diverse; they're from all parts of the world, and I help them improve their English before and/or as they take college courses. My primary focus is writing. I help them go from paragraph writing to essay writing. Well, today I showed them a sample classification paragraph. I wanted them to see an example of classifying a single idea into categories or subgroups. More importantly, though, I wanted them to identify the topic sentence, major and minor supporting details, and the concluding sentence. I asked questions about unity----whether the sentences all point to the same idea or not--- and coherence---- the way the sentences are organized. It's just a fun paragraph! It's about rock music! This wasn't the first paragraph I showed them. I had shown them two others previous, and they answered all my questions just fine. For some reason, though, they were having trouble with this one. Then, I realized the problem. I hadn't explained any of the vocabulary. "Do you think this paragraph has some tricky words?" I asked. They all nodded and said, "yes!" "Well," I said, "which words do you feel like you need help with?" Silvia, a girl from Mexico blurted, "snare!" I smiled and told them that I am a drummer, so I can explain that one with total confidence. In simple terms, I described the lay out of a basic drum set: snare, bass, toms, cymbals. "The snare is the one in the middle and is played the most." I made the sound of a drum roll, and heads bobbed in understanding, and a chorus of "ooooh!" went around the room. I demonstrated the sound of the bass---- "BOOM! BOOM!"--- while kicking my foot. I did a quick run around the imaginary set--- "Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!" in different pitches and explained that these are called toms. Then, "CRASH!"
I asked, "Can anyone guess what that last one is called?" I heard a Vietnamese boy whisper something, so I asked him to be confident and speak up. "Cymbal?" he asked. I gave him a thumbs up. My drumming hasn't been as consistent as it was over the summer. Now that the semester has started, lesson planning, teaching, grading and conferencing with students is my number one priority. It has to be. It's my job. But I still have a drummer heart. I will forever remember this experience in the classroom. Next time I share this sample paragraph, I'm going to bring in my drum set!... maybe. Recently I watched a short video by Nate Morton. He's a drummer from NBC's The Voice. He talked about his biggest motivator for drumming, Animal from the Muppets. As many of you know from my previous blog, Animal is my idol, too! Nate Morton also talked about how drumming has influenced his life for good. Watching that video made me think about who else, along with Animal, who inspired me to play the drums, so I made a short top 3 favorite drummers. It doesn't include my actual real idols, like Dave Grohl, Neil Peart, Buddy Rich, Ringo Star or the other amazing drummers I love! I'll save that for another post. Without further ado, here are my favorite drummers: 1. Animal (of course!) from The Muppets I had a lot of energy as a kid, too. Banging on pots and pans as a kid (that's all I had!) defiantly was good for me, too. 2. Guy Patterson from Doing that Thing you Do
(The screenplay was written by Tom Hanks, by the way.) Because I started my drumming journey a little bit later than maybe most drummers and I was often forced to practice on my own between classes in college, I found this movie/ story inspirational. I lived in small living areas and squeezed my drums into sometimes tight spots. At one point, I had my drums in the basement in my in-laws' house because I didn't have room for them where I was living at the time, and I'd go there when everyone was at work and play along to my i-pod. When I felt discouraged to practice, I'd think, "what if I'm needed as a drummer?!' and I'd go practice. I got a chance to be "the drummer" for a talent show in 2012. It wasn't much of a gig, but my friends really needed me for the song. I was nervous, but I did it. We didn't get a standing ovation like I imagined we would, nor did we win the talent show, but it felt good to be "Guy Patterson" for a night. 3. Steven Alper from Drums, Girls and Dangerous Pie My favorite roommate in college gave me a copy of it during my last semester. I wanted to read something besides journal articles about ESL teaching. Don't get me wrong! I love learning about ESL and I'm really glad I earned my MTESOL, but I needed (what my sister calls) "fluff" reading. Something that I didn't have to think about. Something I could just read and enjoy!
So, there you have it. My top three favorite drummers, the ones who first inspire me to practice. Drumming has defiantly made me the person I am today.
I wasn't interested in recording, and I ended up selling the roto-toms and tambourine pedals, anyway. The new set motivated me. Using Youtube, I learned to play along to "How's it gonna be" by Third Eye Blind. A few friends who played the guitar played songs with me sometimes, but I always felt limited in my drumming and wasn't sure how to best accompany them.
Making time to improve I started teaching ESL, and all my time went to lesson planning, teaching and grading. I promised myself I could drum after teaching, but then I had to conference with students and adjust lesson plans, etc. Overall, I was exhausted by the time I could drum and/or it was too late in the evening. This last year, I decided to lighten my teaching load a bit to make room for creative writing projects and, of course, drumming. I made it to the set more often, but never knew what I wanted to practice or work on when I got to the set. That's when I discovered DrumAmbition.com. I started with them two weeks ago. It's been a good fit for me so far. It's affordable, and the lessons are ordered in a way that makes sense. I don't have to fish around Youtube forever, not sure what I want to learn next. I especially appreciate the support Simon gives via email and Skype. If you're a drummer (especially new), I recommend you check them out! My goals When people first hear about me drumming, like new family or friends, the conversation usually goes something like this: Friend: "You play the drums? You?" Me: "Yep." Friend: "Are you in, like, a band?" Me: "Nope..." Friend: "I bet you learned in high school." Me: "Not really..." Friend: "What kind of music do you like to play? Jazz? Rock?" Me: (shrug) "I like everything. I'm still learning and willing to try whatever. Maybe someday I'll play with others... but for now, I just play alone...." My goal: play stuff. Read Part 1 7th grade band So, there we were, four of us on the percussion line: two boys and two girls. Randal was tall with floppy blond hair. Daniel was big and bulky, weighing as much as a large 9th grader. Jessica had freckles all over her face and weighed just as much as Daniel. I was small, skinny and self conscious of my growing breasts. We became good friends, especially at the beginning. I learned about all sorts of instruments: marimba, xylophone, timpani, chimes, scraper, snare, bass, toms, triangle and more! Naturally, I was good at the marimba because it had keys like a piano. Randal was good at it, too, because he took piano, as well. He was a little bit of a show-off. I remember his floppy hair opened up and down like an umbrella when he played fast. I wasn't interested in anything that reminded me of the piano. Despite all the lessons I took, I didn't consider myself a pianist. That was my older sister, who spent hours playing scales on our home piano. She accompanied nearly everyone in choir and sight-read all the hymns at church. Her posture was perfect, and she never struggled to keep her pinky down. When it came time to choose which instruments we wanted to play for our upcoming band concerts, I stared longingly at the set in the back of the room. Only 9th graders were allowed to play it. Our options at 7th grade seemed limited to me. The snare was the most coveted, next to the large crash cymbal. I was lucky enough once to play the timpani, a large version of a traditional set (without cymbals), but I wasn't allowed to play it all the time. I had to give the other 7th grade percussionists an opportunity. The crash cymbal was fun, but I dropped it once during rehearsal and Jessica took it over because she was bigger and could handle the weight. I might be exaggerating my memories, I admit, but I'm sure I played the triangle more times than anyone else. I don't ever remember seeing Randal with the triangle, and when I think about Daniel, I see him towering over the large bass drum for every song we played. Pretty soon, I stopped hanging out with any of the other 7th grade percussionists. I made really good friends with a girl who played the clarinet, and I almost wished that I had had to use my back-up so I could spend more time talking and laughing with her. The girls who played flutes were nice. I made friends with some trombone and trumpet players, even though I thought it was disgusting when they blew their spit from their instruments onto the band floor. Band verses Choir (again)
I made more friends in choir than I ever did in band (though I still talked with the girl who played the clarinet at lunch). At the end of the year, my choir teacher invited me to try-out for a girls' small singing group. I did and became second soprano, which spilled into my 9th grade. At the end of that year, all my choir friends were trying out for the high school choir, so I did, too. I was one of three sophomores who made the junior choir! What an honor!
My biggest regret My heart told me to take band so I could play the drums, but I knew my choir friends would be disappointed if I didn't join the junior choir, so as a sophomore, I sang with the juniors, which sounds cooler than it actually was. The teacher was strict, the songs were harder (and often in other languages), and I was forced to sing alto, which I had never done before. We wore long green robes like on Sister-Act that were itchy and hot. All my friends were in the sophomore choir, and I felt terribly alone and shy. The only joy I found each day I had to go to choir was the idea of seeing Mark Nelson, a tall handsome bass who stood 3 people away from me. Sometimes one of those 3 people would be absent, so he'd be closer, and I could smell his cologne. Mark Nelson wasn't my friend. He flirted with other girls and hardly saw me. Once, I dropped a pencil and he picked it up for me. He smiled, and I squeaked out a "thanks." I stayed in choir for the rest of my high school experience. My friends and I attended every football game, and I stared longingly at the kids playing drum line. I was too proud at the time to admit it, but I was wrong for staying in choir. It became the greatest regret of my life. Read Part 3 My mom has pictures and videos of me as a toddler banging on pots and pans with wooden spoons on the kitchen floor. While potty training, I'd sit on a small training toilet 2 inches away from the TV and watch Animal go crazy on the drum set. I carried my toy drum and sticks around the house, marching and mimicking Animal's moves, down to every bang and yell. I wanted more than anything to play the drums. This a common tale for drummers like me, I'm sure. Taking Piano Lessons My parents have always been supportive of my dreams, but didn't enroll me in drum lessons. Instead, they made me play piano. I was 8 years old and met with Linda Eades, who lived two blocks away, every Wednesday after school. She seemed old to me, but was probably only in her early 40's. The hardest part about taking piano (besides losing my books, and you know---the actual practicing) was making my left pinky stay down. I don't know why, but it always stuck up in the air when I played! Overall, taking piano wasn't too bad, but I knew in my heart that I wasn't a pianist; I was a drummer. Of course I'm eternally grateful to Linda Eades and other piano teachers I had over the years because I learned to read music, and that has been an invaluable gift! I also learned to play at least two hymns (religious music) on the piano before serving a Mormon mission in Australia. Consequently, I'll probably insist that my future kids play piano before any other instrument, too. Band verses Choir In 7th grade, my mom asked me if I'd like to do band or choir. I said "band, of course." Now, I don't know what it's like in the junior high world today, but when I was in 7th grade, only four kids were allowed to learn the drums. They made all those interested take a "beats" test, where you listen to beats and write the notation for what you heard. For me, at that time, it was the easiest test in the world! After the test, the drum instructor told all parents and kids to choose a back-up instrument in case they weren't chosen as one of the four percussionists that year. Mom took the advise seriously. She led me to the sample instruments and told me to hold each one and decide what my back-up instrument would be. "Here," she said, "what do you think of the saxophone? Kristi down the street plays it. She's a few grades ahead of you, and she really likes it. What do you think?" "It's nice, Mom. Whatever," I said. "Here's a clarinet! I really like the clarinet! Why don't you play this one?" She insisted. "Sure. Whatever, Mom." The clarinet became my back-up, but I never learned to play it. I was chosen as one of the four drummers in 7th grade, like I knew I would be. Drumming was in my blood. Why wouldn't they choose me? Read Part 2 |
I'm what you'd call a "hobbyist" drummer.
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