A New Routine
Spring semester 1988 ushered in a completely different academic pace. We fourth-year Music Ed majors attended two weeks of intensive practicum-oriented prep courses prior to our departure into the field to fulfill our student teaching requirements.
“Be Still My Beating Heart” by Sting
Sting – Be Still My Beating Heart
I had requested placement with the older sister of a fellow music student, as she taught right in town and specialized in strings and general music. It was the perfect fit for my training. That meant I didn’t have to move, as most of my fellow student teachers did. I stayed right in my room at Pierpont, for which I was extremely grateful.
I started this fresh chapter with new notebooks, a spiffed-up wardrobe and a can-do attitude, after arranging meeting Arlene, my “directing teacher” at the Shoney’s restaurant to discuss the upcoming challenges.
The first couple of weeks, I observed all her classes: Elementary strings (private lessons and beginner’s orchestra), junior high general music and choir at Suncrest. This also included intermediate orchestra (ninth grade counts as high school, thus technically exempting me from grades 10-12 during my training).
I began to slowly assume teaching responsibilities from Arlene. I had some good ideas, one time creating a simple percussion ensemble using real instruments and handing out basic written patterns for the kids to play.
I swallowed back my newbie anguish and directed the choir, as well as the orchestra. I knew professional competence was necessary (and my performance was being critiqued).
My day began with General Music class at Suncrest, for which I created “dittos” of exercises and quizzes, and visual displays. I took over most of the elementary private lessons on violin, viola, cello and bass, as well as many rehearsals at North Elementary, earlier than I should have.
Arlene would often be gone for the entire day for various personal reasons (flu and jury duty)—this no doubt also coincided with planning her wedding for the following summer. This was premature for my experience, but I boldly did the best I could. There was a substitute called in a couple of times, who provided piano accompaniment in class.
John got stuck with an oddball roommate that semester when his roommate Don moved out. This character, Roman, was almost nomadic as he came with barely the clothes on his back, and slept on the floor of his room. With a hangdog appearance, he chain-smoked in the apartment, used onions EVERY time he turned on the stove, and drove a Chevy Monza that had long ago seen better days.
One time, he just disappeared. That was the day the Morgantown Police came to the door with a warrant for the guy’s arrest. Whatever this clown was selling, John wanted no part of it.
“Kissing A Fool” by George Michael
George Michael – Kissing A Fool
For the first time, John and I had different spring breaks. His came before mine (as I now followed the local school system’s calendar, not the University’s). John was flown down to visit his parents’ villa in Lehigh Acres, Florida one Friday.
I remained behind, my heart aching with a haunting emptiness. One of my elementary students, Nicholas asked, his innocent eyes peering up into mine, “What’s wrong? Why are you sad?” I replied that Miss Lori just wasn’t feeling very well today and quickly geared things back toward the lesson.
That weekend, I overdid it a bit on the liquid refreshment, mixing beer with a couple of Mudslides. Not surprisingly, the next day found me in bed, sick in more ways than one.
Better on Sunday, I put together a cassette tape of special songs and words from the heart titled “Love from the North.” I mailed it first thing the next day, and he received it Wednesday. He called that night to tell me how much he appreciated it.
That week I slogged through my student teaching responsibilities with trepidation, missing John but feeling stronger with each day that he was soon coming back. I went with Bosche and Christy up to Pittsburgh Airport to meet John’s flight on Sunday. Our reunion was awash in emotion and we clung in the backseat all the way back to Morgantown.
Two weeks later, at the end of March, I went home to New Jersey for my break as John attended his classes. I used that time to establish contact with local school districts to drum up some interest for post-graduation employment.
I spoke to John a couple of times, and he told me he was going to a retreat with MALSM in Baltimore the weekend I would come back from my break. There, he met a student at Muhlenberg College named Susan. This was the first real test of his feelings for me, and he took a liking to her.
A Crossroads
John returned from that weekend troubled and distant. I was confused by this and dismayed when he suddenly asked for “space.” I refer to this time as “Black April.”
Meanwhile, I was dealing with the mounting challenges of student teaching.
Concentrating from then on proved extremely difficult. Regrettably, my performance reflected this. As I was expected to fill the teaching role more completely, my attention was increasingly compromised, and my emotional well-being deteriorated. I went through the motions of preparing weekly lesson plans for Arlene’s review.
Over the course of the semester, John and I went on a couple of trips with MALSM. One was a day visit to Jackson’s Mill, WV. Another was at the University of Pittsburgh to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show, which had been sold out, so we hit The “O” and caught that show in Morgantown at a later date. We students from the Campus Chapel also went ice skating in town, and continued our dinner/movie nights.
People observed John’s remote behavior at times, though he could be very affectionate, which further confused me.
John hosted a ‘60s-themed party/cookout at his apartment for the MALSM crowd. Everyone showed up sporting tie-dyed stuff, bandannas and bearing signs and sheets spray-painted with sayings like MAKE LOVE—NOT WAR. I played retro deejay for the evening, spinning everything from the Animals to the Zombies. I ended up crashing with John in his bed, with mixed assumptions about its meaning.
Soon, the emotional Tilt-a-Whirl with John was getting old and I was starting to see things a little differently.
Arlene was out quite a bit at that point, so she had brought in another substitute, as I still needed professional supervision. The “sub” was a WVU music graduate and violin major, Sally P, who was sweet and funny and to whom I confided my woes.
At the time, I was thankful that Sally took over a couple of the classes when I was feeling particularly horrible, and I marveled at how good she was. Her keyboard skills really proved useful. My piano prowess was woefully inadequate.
“Deacon Blues” by Steely Dan
As the weather warmed, Sally and I hung out together in the evenings at her place, drinking vodka tonics and listening to Steely Dan CDs. I shed quite a bit of tears during Deacon Blues. I remember being envious that she and her husband Damon got to live together and there was no question of HIS feelings for her. She tried to be supportive.
I also spent some fun time with another student teacher, Elizabeth S, who provided an understanding ear.
Needless to say, JD (who had originally tried to woo me away from John) was “being a friend” as well and in the midst of problems with his own girlfriend, Suzanne. Though still not interested in him, I really appreciated the support. JD made me see that John’s indecision was no reflection of me as a person.
As May approached, the student teaching program was winding down and I began relinquishing classes and lessons back to Arlene. My mental strength was returning, and I conducted two end-of-season gigs with gusto—a string orchestra concert at North Elementary, and a choir performance down on High Street. For that one, we all huddled under a big tent as a nasty storm passed through.
Student teaching ended a week before finals, with hugs and kisses and little gifts from the kids.
