What My First Crash Academy Drum Camp Taught Me

This week I ran my very first Crash Academy Drum Camp at the Hollyburn Club in West Vancouver. 

I decided to make it Dungeons and Dragons inspired. I wrote a full story about an evil villain named Silencio who steals the world's musical powers. I designed an adventure journal, created daily missions, skill points, badges, boss battles, and turned five days of drum lessons into one big adventure. As the students progressed they got to add stars to their skill points

Watching the kids buy into the story was one of the most rewarding parts of the week.

Each day they restored a different musical power. We started with pulse and learned about tempo and the metronome before building our first grooves. As the week went on we unlocked groove, dynamics, and syncopation through songs, games, rhythm challenges, and plenty of drumming.

There were only three students, but they couldn't have been more different. One was ten years old and the other two were six. It didn't take long to notice that the younger two kept butting heads. Neither of them was trying to ruin the camp. They just wanted attention in different ways, and that frustration kept spilling over onto each other.

At first I kept trying to steer things back toward the lesson.

Eventually I realized the lesson wasn't the most important thing happening in the room.

One afternoon, after another disagreement, one of the kids completely shut down. He sat by himself and didn't want to play anymore. Instead of pushing through the lesson, we stopped everything and sat together in a circle.

I asked them if they'd ever felt hurt or scared before.

The quiet student shared a story about getting lost in a park when he was younger. He remembered feeling scared because he couldn't find his parents.

Then something unexpected happened.

The other student quietly said, "the same thing had happened to me!"

Just like that, the conversation changed. They weren't opponents anymore. They were two kids who had both experienced the same fear.

Within a few minutes they were laughing together and playing drums again.

That moment reminded me that when kids are acting out, it's usually not because they dislike each other. Most of the time they're trying to communicate feelings they don't know how to express yet. Sometimes what they need isn't another exercise. They just need someone to help them feel understood.

The final day ended with a boss battle against Silencio!

The students solved rhythm puzzles, figured out drum patterns by ear, and worked together to take away the boss's lives one by one. Seeing them encourage each other instead of competing was one of my favourite parts of the week.

When Silencio was finally defeated, I thought the camp was over.

One of the students suddenly burst into tears and ran out of the room.

I followed him outside, thinking something had gone wrong. After a few minutes he finally looked up and said,

"I don't want to leave. I want to come back tomorrow and do more drumming."

I think I'll remember that moment for a long time.

As teachers, it's easy to measure success by what students learn. Did they play the beat? Did they understand the rhythm? Did they finish the challenge?

Those things matter.

But sometimes the biggest impact has nothing to do with the lesson plan.

It's creating a place where kids feel excited to learn, safe enough to be themselves, and connected to the people around them.

At the end of the camp I gave each student a copy of my book, their adventure journal, a set of achievement stickers, and a handwritten note about something I noticed they brought to the group.

The camp taught me plenty about what activities worked and which ones I'll tweak next time. I might simplify the character system, add more opportunities for teamwork, and adjust a few of the  challenges for younger students.

More than anything, though, it reminded me why I teach.

The best lessons aren't always the ones we plan.

Sometimes they happen when we stop teaching for a moment and simply connect with the people sitting in front of us.

I'm already looking forward to the next adventure!