If you were to open your wallet (purse/money clip/etc...) What would you see? More specifically, who would you see. What faces would be staring back at you? (seriously, open your wallet and look).
If you are like me, you're seeing some Washingtons, Lincolns, and perhaps a Jacksons or two (Jackson 5 would be nice).
My wallet hasn't seen many Grants or Franklins; they don't hang out a lot with me. They run with a different crowd. Me? I am more Lincoln and Washington-type dude. And not the paper, the coins.
The concept of faces on money is as old as time itself. Civilizations have put people on money since the 13th century, and the United States is no different.
And yet, we pay no attention to the things we use to pay.
We see these faces multiple times a day, which is more than we see most friends, and yet we ignore them. It's easy to forget who they are and what they represent because they are not relevant to our everyday lives. But they serve a purpose. More than just a face, they remind us of where we came from, and the people that helped shape us as a nation.
Our currency is akin to a national Hall of Fame. Somewhere we celebrate and honor our past, but ignore our present. Our national currencies are almost exclusively of dead white men.
Many countries are moving away from portraits and are instead displaying architecture, flora, and fauna on their bills. Currencies that have made that change include the Danish krone, the Euro, and the Swiss Franc. And, other countries that do celebrate individuals have a far more diverse representation (see chart below),
Educators. Yes! Musicians. HECK YES! Music educators? DOUBLE HECK YES! I wanna pay for my gas with my bill! I look great in green!
But let's get real... Never gonna happen with a treasury note. But why not a musical note?
I like the idea of commemorating our past and honoring those who helped shape this profession and activity. We don't have a Hall of Fame, and each constituency only honors its own.
So...
What if we named middle C in honor of someone? What if we called it a (John Phillip) Sousa? What if "A" below middle C was in called a Duke (Ellington - Take the A Train). Or, how about "F#" being a (Paula) Crider, (Linda) Moorhouse, or (Mallory) Thomson?
If we did this, we would not only be teaching music history but also musical literacy.
We wouldn't have to stop there either, and we could do the same thing with rhythms. Seriously, we call our rhythms "ratamacues" and "paradiddles”, is that any sillier? Who named those things, and what were they drinking?
What about key signatures, or commonly used chord progressions? Heck, we could even name intervals (we could call a 7th "a Bernstein," and a sixth "a Williams)." So many possibilities. But, we would first have to ask some important questions like:
Do low notes only get named after tuba players and double bassists?
Same question for high notes and piccolos.
Do chord progressions get named after composers?
How do we select great teachers who don't necessarily have spectacular ensembles when honoring educators?
How do we ensure representation for underrepresented groups in a profession that lacks diversity?
How do we remember the past but honor people doing incredible work in the present?
How do we balance the art of performance with the art of teaching?
So many things to consider. So many possibilities. But, they all boil down to this question. Who are the people that helped build, develop, and shape the profession of music education and how to honor them.
The United States? Nope, we only include heads of state and politicians. I don't mind paying for things using my benjamins; I just wish it was Britten and not Franklin. Wait, he's English! Crud. You got any ideas?
Have a great week.
- Scott
p.s. You should have gotten an invite to register your students for next week's student leader event—just another benefit of being a Patron.