Stage fright!

Just a comforting (I hope) message to all of you who are currently getting hot under the collar about your forthcoming leavers’ productions. I’m assuming that, as D-day approaches, there’s been lots of yelling, arguing, threats of cancellation, pulling out of hair, vowing never to put on a musical again…etc etc. There certainly used to be when I produced an end-of-year show.

Anticipation of the big night used to leave me more than a little on edge; in fact, the only situation I've been in that has caused the butterflies to rampage through my delicate abdominal region with greater force is when I've assumed the duties of best man.  I've had this dubious honour three times now, which is a higher than average tally even for a man of my years. When I just think of the responsibility and pressure of this vital role, I still get a churning sensation. Anyone who’s safely delivered an old chum into the matrimonial arms of his intended will tell you that organising a stag weekend, or safeguarding the rings, is a stroll in the park compared to the ‘big job’.....the speech.

Very much like your pending production, it has to be well-delivered, slick, and with the right level of emotion. It must have pace and be audible to the deafest of elderly relatives sitting at the back of the room. Above all, however, it has to be funny. For it to be considered successful it needs to cause titters, giggles, chuckles and belly-laughs a-plenty. During my last-but-one foray into bestmanland, as I sat at the top table next to the father of the bride (who’d just delivered a top-drawer speech of his own), he could obviously sense the anxiety and stage fright as my moment in the spotlight drew near. ‘Don’t worry’, he told me. ‘What you must remember is that you have a captive audience. They’re on your side. They’ll forgive the nerves, the fluffed lines and the jokes that are misjudged or badly timed. They’re all here for the same reason, to celebrate a landmark in their friends’ and families’ lives. They’ll be supportive and encouraging, willing you to do well because they’re simply happy to be a part of this special occasion. You can’t go wrong…..I promise.’ And I didn’t. With a well-earned glass of bubbly I basked in the compliments and pats on the back and wondered why I’d ever got myself so worked up.

And so it will be for you and your class during your leavers’ production. In spite of your fears, children always pull it out the bag and your performance will end with lots of soggy hankies, red eyes and big smiles….I promise.

Break a leg! 

Are You SAT-ing comfortably?

As KS2 SATs week draws to a close I hope those of you involved in the tests (teachers and children) have been spared the anxiety that the build-up to and partaking of SATs has historically caused. I’m sure if you read my last blog you could easily guess my attitude towards the standardized testing of young children and the subsequent creation of primary school league tables, so I’ll spare you the ranting this time. Well, maybe not….

My blood pressure received a small boost yesterday when I heard about a parent offering his daughter £25 for each level 5 she achieves this week, in each individual paper! Now, my maths ain’t what it used to be, but even I know we’re looking at a three-figure wad if the lucky girl sweeps the board with top marks. Dear oh dear (big sigh), has the world gone mad? Don’t get me wrong, a little financial incentive can work wonders on children and teenagers – indeed, I remember back in 1987 my own dad dangling the carrot of a fiver for every C or above I got in my A-levels. The difference, however, is that A-levels, GCSEs, baccalaureates, NVQs etc. are bona fide qualifications. They lead to acceptance on college courses, they enhance employment opportunities, they secure places on training schemes….in short they mean something. There’s a real and tangible consequence to doing well or not so well in the exams we take and coursework we submit at sixteen years of age. But to compound the unnecessary pressure and stress which Yr 6 SATs sometimes subject children to is at best short-sighted. This parent in question has obviously missed the point (or lack thereof) of KS2 SATs. Does he anticipate that at his daughter’s first job or college interview someone will say to her, “Hmmm, well young lady, your A-level results were excellent and you seem to have all the qualities that we’re looking for, but unfortunately that level 3c in your KS2 Mental Maths test seven years ago has scuppered your chances of ever making anything of your life. If only your father had provided a financial incentive you may not have failed so miserably. Close your door on your way out.”

Anyway, I’m sure you all know where a child’s performance in their SATs really figures in the league table of significant and important events in their life – more Wigan Athletic than Man Utd. I hope this week was no more than a blip in what I bet is an exciting, emotional and event-filled term as they prepare to take that next big step. (Ooh, a bit of subliminal product placement there!) And if you’re still in search of a superb leavers’ musical to give the last few weeks some fun and focus, you know where to look…….…

Bravo!

Last night, accompanied by my wife, son and father-in-law, I went to see my 8 year-old daughter in her end-of-term musical production. On the past few occasions we’ve seen our children perform, it has been in musicals that I’ve written, which is always a nervous experience for yours truly. I’m in a constant state of agitation, wondering whether the audience thinks it’s a good show. Are they laughing in the right places? Are they laughing at all? Do they seem to be enjoying the songs? Why is that parent not clapping as enthusiastically as that one? Maybe I should re-write all of scene 1, most of scene 2 and change the melody and lyrics to half the songs. In fact, maybe I should give up writing completely and find something to do that I’m good at….such is my train of thought throughout.

However, last night’s production wasn’t one of mine….hang on, why wasn’t it one of mine? Don’t they like what I write any more? Maybe I should give up writing completely and…..you get the picture. It seems there’s no escape from the self-doubt that arises when ones creations are put out there for all to love, loathe or have no opinion about whatsoever. That said, without any vested interest beyond hoping she would speak with expression, sing beautifully and not forget any of her lines, I was able to relax and enjoy my daughter’s brilliant school musical as nothing more than her dad, which was a fantastic feeling.

What made it all the better was the short speech given by the headteacher post-performance. Myself having taught under a headteacher who would always address an audience with well-chosen words of wisdom, I’ve kind of grown to expect that parents will, because of these afore-mentioned words, end such an evening safe in the knowledge that their children attend a school which has got its priorities right. And now I’m a parent myself, I’m happy to say I too am safe in that knowledge. I listened last night as the headteacher told us how she, her staff and the children are, year-on-year, weighed down by ever-increasing demands to meet ridiculously unimportant targets that benefit their growth and development not one iota. We heard how, if she were to follow unquestioningly the agenda set by those ‘on high’ (whom we all know have no idea about the reality of school life) then there’d simply be no time to let anyone in the school’s community enjoy and benefit from such things as a musical production. As she so rightly pointed out, for so many kids who are the butt of over-assessment, performance targets and the whims of idiots who prioritise the academic level attained in primary schools over the experiences and memories created, a musical production or a sports fixture may be the only chance they get to show that they have a talent. Only because I didn’t want to embarrass my family, I resisted the urge to stand up and shout ‘Bravo!’ I now really wish I’d done it.

You see, I don’t give a flying flip-flop whether my children’s school exceeds the predicted number of level 5s in its KS2 SATs, or whether it achieves its required quota of individuals on the ‘gifted and talented’ register for numeracy and literacy. Sod that – I want to know that now and then it’s going to stick two fingers up at the powers that be, confident that its qualified and dedicated professionals know what’s the right and healthy thing to feed the growing minds and talents of children. I want to know that a teacher, without being frowned upon, has used his/her PPA time to make props and costumes, instead of number-crunching and pen-pushing. I want to know that legions of kids have missed ‘proper’ lessons to go and represent their school on the sports field and that mornings, afternoons and whole days have been given over to learning songs, rehearsing scripts and bringing a production up to performance standard. It’s these things that children will remember and that will help them develop into well-rounded and balanced human beings.

So, bravo to all of you who tire yourselves out making sure that’s the experience children have of school. You’re fantastic!

Now, back to worrying about why my children’s school didn’t do one of my shows this time………