Pickingupducks

As schools and colleges return, and universities prepare for their students, I’ve also been at the sharp end of the learning curve, learning vital lessons.

It’s a tough business learning – sometimes we go into it with trepidation, sometimes with huge confidence. We’re here after all at whatever stage we’ve reached, because someone decrees we have enough skills, knowledge or just years of life to get to the next stage, so we should be OK. But joining the dots to connect what we already know with what we are now learning or expected to learn can, believe me, be a real struggle. Equally daft as it may sound we sometimes forget we are learners, and not expected to be learned at the start. That’s something we tend to forget and so perhaps we should all, particularly those of us who teach, go back to being learners on a regular basis. 

Teachers make all the difference – I know. Their patience and capacity to help us join the dots, see ourselves as learners and celebrate the learning process; their ability to allow us to break away from the taught curriculum and enjoy exploring our subject for fun at times; their capacity to recognise that learning is an exhausting business – mentally and physically (believe me this week there have been times when I wanted to just curl up ‘on the carpet’ and recover); and their ability to encourage, enthuse and motivate keeps us learners going when the going gets tough. 

I’ve learned so much during the past two years working and living afloat – about our boat, about nature, about myself, about life. I’ve been encouraged by the boating community to learn about gardening on a metal roof, the history of the canals, crochet (which was an alien artform for years and now is becoming something little short of an obsession…) but I do miss making music and that’s what I’ve been fortunate enough to start learning again this week. 

In past lives I’ve played double bass (a bit tricky on a narrowboat where space is limited although I hear some do it. A string bass would have to live in the shower – and interesting playing at my level really demands others for a jazz band or orchestra)… I also played piano for a bit – smilar situation in terms of space and I never really felt at home with an electronic keyboard… then I played cornet and tenor horn in a brass band hugely benefiting from, and enjoying the supportive community, as much as the stirring traditional sounds (thanks Toddington Town Band)… so what to play on the boat? I wanted something I could learn that would enable me to make solo tuneful music, or play with others when I found musicians afloat or along the towpath pubs. I’ve encountered guitarists, fiddle players, and then pow – a melodian player!

This wasn’t just a talented, inspiring melodian player but a generous, capable teacher and as passionate about her instrument and music as I would love to be again. 

Serendipity I can vouch is alive and well on the waterways. Becci and I were moored by each other by chance. We met by chance and I shall always be immensely grateful to her (or I will be when my fingers and shoulders recover).

The sound of her tuneful playing drifted gently to our boat and I couldn’t resist going out to listen, to have a front row seat as she on the melodian and Marcus on the violin brought sheer delight to late summer evenings with their music. Then joy of joys, she generously offered me a chance to try a melodian, gave me a lesson full of encouragement and enough but not too much instruction, getting me to a starting point and not baffling me completely. She went and fetched ‘a spare’, trustingly lent it to me (to me – a total stranger) with a stage 1 book and a case, and gave me private, safe space to experiment, to practice. 

That has reminded and taught me much about learning and teaching. About how exhausting it is to be a learner. The melodeon is like nothing I have ever played before. It is from the squeeze box family so notes are made and altered by the process of pushing and drawing, or in Dr Doolittle terms pushing and pulling the instrument…and they aren’t always logical I soon discovered.

Learning can be heavenly, ordered and structured and sheer hell at the same time.

Learning is complex, whatever you are tackling. On the D/G melodeon I was lent, the right hand had two rows of button keys to manage (in the scales of D and G I guess), whilst the left hand theoretically controlled the wind key to let the instrument expand as well as bringing in the bass keys.

I woke at night fingering and scales (honestly!). It reminded me of trying to learn to drive in a way – intensely physical and complex, being asked to undertake mulitple alien actions at once seems impossible. Engaging the clutch, changing gear, looking in the mirror, steering and looking where you’re pointing the car simultaneously seem utterly unfeasible at first. For me that was the same with starting to play the melodeon. I physically ached after practicing – my shoulders and my fingers, my wrists and elbows felt the strain because I was so tense in this alien environment. I know how to read music but felt utterly at sea trying to transfer that knowledge onto this new-to-me instrument. I became exhausted quickly and realised that when I flagged my concentration and desire to learn dissipated rapidly.

Little and often and a safe learning space proved the key. Practicing a set piece, enjoying a bit of free exploration, and then doing something else. Do we all allow our learners to do that? What autonomy do we, can we offer them in their learning? How do we ensure a balance of structure, fun and freedom in learning? What creative and positive outcomes might such an approach fuel?

Maybe we can all press the right buttons as teachers and be a bit more Becci in our approaches – generous, passionate and with a capacity to make learning safe, and possible. She showed me through her practice what practice can achieve. She didn’t bat an agonised eyelid when I sadly returned her beautiful melodeon to her, performing with stomach-churning nerves an excruciating rendition of Hot Cross Buns and Baa Baa Black Sheep, although one I felt ridiculously proud of achieving. (I would add that Steve thought Baa Baa Black Sheep was Three Blind Mice but ho hum, you can’t always expect much of the audience!).

A melodeon feels too expensive an instrument for me to purchase right now (£900ish) and I’m not sure it is for me. So here’s the thing – what should I try next in my bid to make music aboard for a reasonable financial outlay? Something that doesn’t take up too much space and won’t set Steve’s teeth on edge for too long whilst I’m at the early learner stage? (The dog’s OK – he’s deaf fortunately for him!)

All ideas very welcome please! if you want to hear Becci and Marcus for yourself and can get to Northamptonshire join them at Balfolk which sounds huge fun!