55.

When I was training to qualify for Boston, I used a plan from Pete Pfitzinger’s Advanced Marathoning. His training plans are divided into categories over 12 and 18 week periods: Up to 55 miles per week, 55-70 miles per week, 70-85 miles per week, and More than 85 miles per week. I decided to try Up to 55 miles per week over 12 weeks, even though I initially bought the book because I was curious, not because I considered myself “advanced.”  

Pfitzinger never states that more miles per week makes a runner more “advanced.” In fact, he never even states an “advanced” time goal for the marathon. He simply distinguishes among workouts by saying one is at “recovery pace” versus “general aerobic pace” versus “5K race pace” versus “marathon pace.” We do not know which runner is more “advanced”: the one that runs 55 miles per week at a 7:00/mile pace, or the one that runs 70-85 miles per week at 8:00/mile pace.

The point is that the distinction does not matter because it is all about perception. I completed 95% of the workouts in the plan. I qualified for Boston with 1 minute and 38 seconds to spare. But I let the number 55 rule my life for 12 weeks. I only slightly concerned myself with pace because I already had the experience–the prior half and full marathon times–to support my goal. Instead I concerned myself with whether I was meeting my miles per week because that was one person’s abstract definition of “advanced.” It did not matter that he never met me. It did not matter that he had no knowledge of my running experience and I had very limited knowledge of his.  

I view the day I qualified for Boston as an isolated accomplishment that was a direct result of the work I put into it. Yes, it was testament to my character and to my strength, but it would be foolish to generalize this one accomplishment to every aspect of my running world and start calling myself an “advanced” runner. The experience of all the miles I have logged over the last 7 years is way more valuable. The experience reminds me that as a runner I have evolved and continue to evolve. The experience reminds me that is okay to adapt my stride, that it is okay to change my pace, that it is okay to change how many miles per week I run, that it is okay to race other distances. Yet sometimes I forget the experience when I am caught in the time crunch of the training plan and the race clock.

Last week our staff was shown a list of students, dubbed “The 55,” who are identified as close to reaching Proficient on the Pennsylvania System of School Assessment (PSSA). As a school we are supposed to focus all our energy on these 55 students because they will help us reach our “metrics” as a school. No where in the conversation did I hear how reaching Proficient would make them “advanced” students. No where in the conversation did I hear how reaching Proficient would make them critical thinkers. No where in the conversation did I hear how reaching Proficient would even get them through high school. And no where in the conversation were the other 500 mentioned–the students who would be getting less because these 55 were getting more. 

I was angry. I was angry that I was working at a school that had no choice but to choose what would help them stay afloat in this mess that is our urban education system. I do not criticize my administration. I criticize the system that put them in that position of judging a school’s progress and achievement by test scores only. The elephant in the room is that performing proficient does not guarantee “advanced” learning. Furthermore, it would indeed be foolish to generalize this one accomplishment to every aspect of our school. 

That is when I realized that my position as a music teacher is more important now than ever. The other teachers at my school have no choice. They are at the mercy of producing proficient testers in a short amount of time. My students need a class where they are not categorized and judged by test scores. They need a class where they can develop as students, as critical thinkers, as people. And they need to be given a longer, more appropriate amount of time to do it. While I have been giving them some space to do that over the last six months, I haven’t been giving them enough. I haven’t been giving them everything I could and everything I have because I went into this school year with the system already beating me down and thinking that I missed my opportunity to make a change in this community. I forgot that change takes time, especially when you teach every student in the school. While this is my fourth year teaching, I have been with these students for less than a year. And every child and every school is different…something many policy makers neglect when they ask teachers to follow generalized rules from “advanced” isolated accomplishments.

To leave at the end of this school year would cheat both them and myself of reaching our highest potential as students of music. I want to leave the classroom feeling like I can keep teaching, just like those long runs where I feel I could keep running. That will not happen until I finish what I started, and I can’t do that until I shift my perception. I cannot expect to be seen as “advanced” by adults who cannot take the time to see why I am important because they are at the mercy of the training plan and the race clock. 

So I am redefining “advanced” music teaching. I am defining it in terms of all the classes logged over the last 4 years, not in terms of the few cursory, administrative observations and the few music assemblies. I am defining it in terms of the music that is made by all of my students inside the four walls of my classroom…when it is just us. But most importantly I am defining it by advocating for the other 500 students while the rest of the school is obsessing over the 55. 

And until there is a Secretary of Education, Superintendent, or Chancellor of Schools that can walk into my classroom and model “advanced” music teaching for my students, I am going to continue to shift my perception away from the system that poisons the profession by relying on sporadic, isolated accomplishments as the cure for urban education. Because if I do teach at another school, I will not generalize my experience in this community to the next one. If we want our students to stop being beaten by the system we mustn’t advocate that they rise above it. We must push them to change it from within…to define “advanced” learning in a way that will encourage them to become both the best students and the best versions of themselves.