In the past, I have shared a bit about my writing process for this e-zine. It's not a particularly efficient process, but it works for me, and frankly, it will likely stay the same after thirteen years.
My process includes maintaining a folder on my computer filled with ideas, notes, and ramblings. These "idea starters" are as short as a single sentence or as long as a couple of paragraphs. If I encounter an idea that sparks my imagination or might make for a good post, I throw it in the folder, which I revisit every Monday morning.
When I sat down this past Monday, I was sure this week's post would be about unused vacation time and its impact on our workplace and culture. I got the idea from an article on CNN.com last Monday and since then, have been thinking about how I could tie in how people perceived teacher vacation and the reality of it. Feeling bullish about having my topic figured out so quickly (which seldom happens), I sat down with my cup of coffee, opened my idea file, and saw this.
I paste my story ideas in chronological order. To get to the article on vacation days from Trip Wire, I had to pass through three other articles discussing violence, anger, and mental health among teens, all more recent than last Monday. There is a fourth article about a cat living at 10 Downing Street that has outlived four Prime Ministers (I still need to figure out the tie-in, but there is an e-zine article in there somewhere). The other articles were about bad things; each one "clipped" because I thought EACH was worthy of a blog - but three important negative ideas? In one just week?
The first article talked about how community programs in Baltimore were helping to stem the tide of street violence. The second discussed the booming business of bulletproofing our nation's schools and students. The third piece explored our nation's teens' widespread mental health crisis.
Violence in our streets, schools, and the deteriorating mental health of our youth. These are severe issues our kids and communities are dealing with, and ones that have no simple solutions or quick fixes. In no way do I want to make light of, or minimize, the gravity of these issues.
As I think, ponder, and process these issues, I keep returning to the same question: What about music? What impact would music have in addressing these weighty problems? While I may not have a verifiable answer to that question, I have been thinking about it.
For the past few months, I have seriously considered the value proposition of having music in our schools. I am talking about an objective and honest
cost-benefit analysis, with actual dollars attached.
In my opinion, the cost of music in our schools is a simple calculation. Salary, benefits, equipment/instruments, buses, electricity, maintenance, etc., are all easily identifiable quantifiable costs. Additionally, a simple analysis could easily compare and contrast those costs to other schools and curricula, which could serve as the beginning of a cost-benefit analysis. I am relatively confident that such a comparison (and any conversation with an administrator) would likely show music as our school's most costly curriculum, making it difficult to justify or fund easily.
We know how to calculate the cost part of a cost-benefit analysis, but what about the other half? How do I calculate the benefits so I can better understand the value proposition?
There are some accessible and actionable data. I could look at enrollment, where music students bring additional funding for taking additional classes. We know students involved in music get higher grades, likely resulting in more scholarships, so there's a number to add up there.
Additionally, music students are less likely to require remediation courses, resulting in tangible, quantifiable cost savings.
More mercurial, I can look at stats related to truancy, attendance, vaping, fighting, etc., as they have actual and attributable costs as well (security guards/truancy officers/enrollment loss). If we want to get granular, I can cost out hiring an entertainer and put a price on a halftime show, singing the national anthem at an assembly, or cost to host an orchestra concert.
But other measurables need to be clarified.
What is the value associated with student engagement? Happy kids who are involved in their school community. How do I measure and quantify the cost of teacher retention associated with having happy, hard-working kids in their classes? How do I cost out the number/impact of poor decisions kids don't make because they are occupied outside of regular school hours and days? Yes, I could compare it to after-school care/programs, but it's so much more than that and not easily quantified. Do I take the physical activity of marching or choreography and compare it to a gym membership?
Remember to factor compounding interest on these monies, where calculating costs becomes even more problematic. How do we assess the value and benefits associated with being in music beyond high school? For instance:
We know that students involved in music have lower life-long rates of alcohol and drug abuse. Should I include incremental costs (lower likelihood) of not going to rehab?
It's well documented that music students have higher test scores and GPAs, so do I consider the acquisition of advanced degrees, and future earning potential as a part of the process?
Scientific studies show that music helps with brain neuroplasticity and cognition; should a portion of every job-related raise, bonus, and promotion be considered?
Since music lowers blood pressure, decreases the risk of dementia, and improves overall health, how do I factor in lower health insurance premiums, and fewer potential trips to the doctor?
What dollar figure would you assign to an additional dementia-free day?
Additionally, if I did some research (and I have not), would I find that music students have fewer divorces, bankruptcies, or stints behind bars? And if true, wouldn't that have an associative dollar figure?
And as long as we are trying to value the invaluable, how do I monetize laughter, memories, and parental peace of mind? What is the appropriate currency for valuing student safety, emotional growth, and opportunity?
I want to be clear about this. I am not trying to be snarky or funny, nor am I being metaphorical. These are real questions, with real answers, and real impact. So, I ask again:
What is the value proposition of music?
Don't get me wrong; it's not all about money. Music is an art form, and like all forms of art, it has intrinsic value that does not, and perhaps should not, need to be measured or quantified. We should not have to justify creativity, beauty, and humanity; music should exist simply for being music. Period!
That argument holds water when you talk about why YOU or YOUR CHILD choose to make music. But, when asking someone else to foot the bill for that experience (taxes/public funding), it's not entirely unreasonable to be able to answer that question clearly and demonstrably.
You say, "memories are priceless." Disney does not share your sentiment (have you seen the price of a Disneyland ticket lately?). Don't believe that a number can be attached to future potential? Every university and the SAT/ACT would beg to differ. Unsure if you can quantify the value of engagement? Club sports would beg to differ. You can't put a price on laughter, happiness, and friendship? I can. Please tell me how much you want; I (and virtually every other engaged and able parent) will write that check.
Above, I mentioned the three articles on violence and mental health. In past writings, I have stated my belief that music can and should play a role in addressing these crucial issues and others in our communities and schools. If we want to be taken seriously by serious people dealing with serious problems, we must fully understand and communicate our benefit proposition and the totality of its impact.
So, I ask one more time: What is the value proposition of music? Where is the cost-benefit analysis?
And, if we as professional music educators can't answer that question, who can?
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to stop pro-cat-isnating and figure out how to turn that feline squatter at 10 Downing Street into a future content piece.
Have a great week.
Scott