I was not a "problem child" per se. I was not defiant with my parents; that was the province of my older brother, Johnny. I did not throw large and unsupervised parties; that was the specialty of my younger brother, Kevin. By all accounts and my memory, I was relatively compliant and followed most household rules. This is why I was, and will always be, my mother's favorite (suck it, Johnny and Kevin)!
That does not by any means mean I was an easy child. As I was not. I had a big mouth, lots of opinions, and a pension for sharing them. I did so even when they were not required, relevant, or even wanted. (Editor's note: I know this is shocking for all of the readers.)
I may have been imperfect and had some shortcomings. But, like most of us, as I matured, I was able to turn my deficits into our assets. This is true for me as a person and as a professional.
What was inappropriate as a child can have a great deal of value as an adult and vice-versa.
As schools begin to re-open and things return to normal, music educators will face a host of new and familiar problems. Decreased enrollment, need for remediation, financial issues, and staffing constraints are just a few of the less than delightful conversations that music teachers and their supervisors will have. I have a convenient, concise, and easy to remember answer for all of these legitimate concerns and queries.
"(Insert name of supervisor), I understand and appreciate your concerns, but you're wrong." I mean, sure, say it in the nicest possible way. Couch it in lovely prose, but let there be no misunderstanding about the last two words. YOU'RE WRONG.
With the recent pandemic, there has been an increased import on science and technology. Even though leaders, titans of industry, and our political and financial worlds can't operate a Zoom call without incorrectly using the mute button, they love to pontificate on the importance of STEM and the belief that in a world where technology is omnipresent, children should learn to code.
However, there's not much, if any, connection between coding and today's point-and-click environment and student success. Almost nobody in business, for example, requires much programming skill beyond, say, creating a spreadsheet. I have a couple of business and can run them pretty efficiently with a simple calculator. The underlying principle is that somehow teaching kids to code improves math and language skills.
But (say it with me now), "You're wrong."
A December 2020 study conducted at MIT found that: "Understanding computer code seems to be its own thing. It's not the same as language, and it's not the same as math and logic."
A January 2021 study conducted at the University of Zürich and published in The Journal of Neuroscience stated that "What does increase other skills and brainpower is teaching kids to play a musical instrument."
A summary of the research (which involved scanning the brains of both musicians and non-musicians) explains that: "Musicians' brains were vastly more structurally and functionally connected than non-musicians, especially in areas of the brain responsible for speech and sound (especially the auditory cortices of both hemispheres). The musical group also showed stronger connections from the auditory cortices to other brain areas in the frontal, parietal, and temporal cortex. They are known to be involved in controlling higher cognitive functions like memory, working memory, and executive functions.
This increase in brainpower and functionality remains even if the child does not continue to play the instrument. "The earlier the musicians had started with musical practice, the stronger these connectivities," says professor Simon Leipold, a co-author of the study.
In short, if you want your kids to be smarter, you're better off having them learn a musical instrument or take music education in school, rather than teaching them to code.
Anyone who believes otherwise is wrong.
This does not make them bad people intent on hurting children; it makes them ill-informed and making short-sighted decisions.
But oftentimes, we as music educators stand compliant and silent, acting as an accomplice, allowing it to take place.
Why are we being so subservient? Why are we so compliant? Why do we allow important decisions to be made without our voices and objections being heard? Why do we allow our programs to take a back seat to less beneficial activities for kids? Why do we sit in silence while decision-makers ignore data and science?
If you want what's best for kids.
If you want a building and campus that operates at a higher level.
If you truly believe in science and math.
If you're going to develop the whole child and prepare them for life after academia.
Then you have NO CHOICE but to enroll every child in the pursuit of making music.
I will say it whenever, wherever and to whomever I can. I will do so unapologetically, even when it is not required, relevant, or even wanted.
Because that is who I was born to be. What about you?
- Scott