Subbing the Sassy, Dancing Preteens
Thank you beautiful readers for catching my light-hearted, monthly blog as a Teaching Artist!
Have you ever thought you were prepared for something, then realized you were wrong and failed miserably? Nothing really prepares you for this monstrous mishap, no matter how hard you try to understand it.
Two words:
Sassy Preteens.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t monstrous, but I wasn’t as prepared as I thought. In fact, I was embarrassed by the way it was handled!
Let me start from the beginning: I am a vocal coach and acting teacher at an Art school for preteens-young adults in Los Angeles. Recently, I have been asked to sub dance classes as well. Remembering the nine dance classes a week I took in college, I was eager to provide my students with the tools they needed. This class would be fun and stress-free for me while the students get whipped into shape!
As soon as class began, I immediately noticed that some of my vocal students were in the dance class! Yay! I started the class with an introduction and asked my students to choose the warm up song. This is where I showed my age. I assumed they would choose that “Juju on that Beat” song or the “Cash me outside, how bout dah” video, but they named artists I've never heard of! I assured myself that these artists were imaginary, until they proceeded to play a collection of their songs.
“I love this song. Kylie plays it on Snapchat all the time,” said one of the girls.
As I pretended I knew who they were referring to and nodded along in agreement with the rest of the class, I made a mental note for later.
Step 1: Get a Snapchat..(finally)
Step 2: Figure out how it works without getting frustrated.
Step 3: Follow Kylie…I guess…(sigh).
Next, we did our normal barre, middle of the floor, across the floor, and worked on pirouettes. I shuffled through my iPod playlists and told the girls that they could choose between choreography from Annie’s “NYC” or Hairspray’s “The Nicest Kids in Town”. The girls chose the latter.
“I know this song,” One girl shrieked.
“Yeah, I just saw Hairspray on NBC. It was so cool!”
We had fun implementing certain moves from the 2007 Hairspray film, and moves from the 60’s era like “The Madison” and the “The Mashed Potato”. The next section of the class was my favorite. I instructed the girls to “get their life,” (as we Millennials say) during the freestyle section of the music. The class ended with stretching and breathing exercises. Honestly, I was impressed by the energy and enthusiasm from my girls, especially my vocal students. Also, I was exhausted from that great workout!
“Whew,” I thought, “It’s over! My first day was a success. Time to go home and chill for the rest of—,”
Wait a minute…
I looked over my schedule again and noticed that I was scheduled for a three more classes that afternoon and four on Sunday. No biggie, right?
Wrong. Very wrong.
My second class started with the same introduction and request of a song. None of the girls volunteered, so I assumed that they were shy. Then the groans and random eye-rolls came. One of the girls begrudgingly mumbled her choice of artist—again, with music that I didn’t know existed—we worked on barre and floor exercises. Something was different about my second class. The girls didn’t have as much energy nor enthusiasm during the exercises. Initially, it wasn’t as bothersome, until two of the girls randomly stopped moving in the middle of the floor.
I paused the music track.
“Is something wrong girls?” I asked.
No response.
“Should we try something else?”
Some of the girls nodded in agreement and some just stared at me like the blinking guy meme. And for you more seasoned folks who don’t quite understand what I’m referring to, I will kindly leave a picture for reference below:
Feeling my annoyance taking over, I decided to switch gears and ask them about routines they’ve been working on with their regular dance teacher.
“Okay girls, do you remember your routine that you’ve been working on?”
One of the preteens that stopped dancing earlier, raised her hand.
“We don’t have one yet,” she said.
I already knew she was wrong, but humored her for a bit. At this point, the 13-year-old needed to carry on, what she thought was a friendly, yet annoying banter. However, it was disrespectful, coming from a student to a teacher. She argued about the title of the song we were searching for, the class's final performance date, and even certain moves that I tried to help the class with.
“Is this really happening?” I mumbled under my breath.
Keeping my composure, I asked one of the younger, cuties to repeat a move she had just performed because I wanted to adjust and heighten the move. I think she mistakenly thought I was asking her what was the specific move she executed, or what genre the move represented, or even the purpose for the move. Because her response was:
“The move? Oh, it’s a swing move...you should Google “swing” so you’ll know what type of dance we are doing, Ms. Adrienne”
My head felt like it spun in a full circle. My ears felt warmer. Teach dance to sassy, but talented preteens, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. Easy, huh?
“Pardon me? Google a move?” I retorted.
Oops. The “non-teaching artist” in me was fed up with the feisty, prepubescent attitudes from this class! In one breath, I recited my full resume to the entire class! From performing on stages in Germany and Italy to touring across the U.S. and Canada before teaching in LA. I had to make the girls understand that they don’t know WHO they were talking to! I have been swing dancing and tapping before they were born!
Ugh, there I go showing my age again!
After I embarrassingly stooped to my student’s level and let them have it (hehe), I tried to lighten the mood.
“Listen girls, I am here to help you. I am here because the school that your parents are paying for hired professional teachers to help you grow.”
Silence.
Their little eyes stared in astonishment. Or confusion. Or both, possibly.
“WOWWWW!!! Does that mean you are famous?” One of the girls shouted.
“Famous? Not quite, not yet. I mean, if you want to Google me, you’re more than welcome to. Don’t let me stop you,” I chuckled.
I could not believe that I stooped so low. The last time that I argued with a preteen was years ago— with my then-13-year-old sister.
Her “famous” question snapped me out of it (flattery never fails), so I decided to teach them a new technique that could help with their routine. Although quieter groans uttered from the rubber-banded-brace faces, I couldn't help but think that I softened their hearts enough for them to enjoy the rest of the class.
A Teacher’s Lesson:
“No matter how much energy you exert in a full day, don’t let fatigue and frustration pull you out of your element of being an effective mentor.”
Question of the Week:
How does a teacher deal with so many different energies from teaching several different classes and remain grounded?
Comment below!
AMB
