SANDLOT FOR SALE - PART 1

I was an avid baseball player, fan, and card collector as a young boy. From time to time, I revisit the collection with my sports-minded youngest son, and I regale him with stories of players from long ago.

 Even after all these years, I can still smell the gum on the cards as I tell him about when I met Reggie Jackson in person, and how Bucky Dent cost my beloved Yankees the pennant. My favorite story involves my wife and I visiting Fenway Park in 2004. That was the year the Soxs were down 0-3 in the ALCS to their nemesis from New York. After our visit, Boston went on to win seven straight games and capture their first world championship. My wife still takes credit for ending The Curse of the Bambino.


I played baseball throughout my youth and into high school. Truth be told, I was a pretty good shortstop - quick hands and nimble feet. Truth also be told, I was terrible at the plate. I couldn't hit to save my life. And every ball player knows, hitters play, and fielders sit, so I focused my attention on more musical pursuits.

Youth sports used to bring people from different economic, social, and political backgrounds together. Like so many other unifying activities, youth sports, even the all-American pastime, have been segmented in ways that further separate us from our neighbors and have left the playing field anything but level. How unlevel? According to a recent article in Bloomberg Magazine, Private Equity Is Coming for Youth Sports, "The sandlot era when kids played sports largely unsupervised is long gone."


And the days of parent-coached recreational leagues are fast receding. In their place has come the age of travel squads. Kids as young as 6 are playing on teams with paid coaches, year-round schedules, multiple practices per week, long-distance travel, and, in many cases, intense competition for roster spots. 


Theoretically, these teams prepare kids to play at the college level and beyond. They're making youth sports increasingly expensive, exclusive, and pressurized.

 

The article further states, "In the chase for a limited supply of college scholarships, more kids also specialize in a single sport at younger ages, despite research showing that cross-sport sampling is best for their athletic development, not to mention mental health. American parents are also going to greater and greater lengths, including hiring private coaches and buying high-end equipment, to pad their kids' sports résumés and give them an edge on their college applications. They're spending at least $30 billion a year on youth sports, according to 2022 research by the Aspen Institute. And the actual tally could be as much as $50 billion by now, according to Tom Farrey, head of the nonprofit's sports and society program. According to Aspen, parents spend about $900 per child per season, whose research also shows that children from households making $150,000 or more are more than twice as likely to participate in travel and club sports than those from families making less than $50,000."


While on a much less fanatical and frenetic level, I wonder if there aren't some parallels to music here.


This weekend, I hosted a long-standing workshop in my hometown of Phoenix, Arizona. The event was packed, and the kids were great. After the event, I had the chance to connect with a former student turned music educator for lunch. It was fantastic to catch up and reminisce. 

He asked about rehearsal practices and for some advice on improving his group. So, I asked him to show me a recent video of the group so I could be more specific with my suggestions.

 After watching the video, I had some questions.

"Who wrote the drill?" I asked. 

 He responded, "It's stock drill, we can't afford a drill writer yet, so we used a pre-packed show."

"Ok," I said, "but there seem to be a lot of gaps - how many spots is the show written for?"

 He responded, "Sixty winds, the smallest amount they offered in the package." 

"How many winds do you have?" I asked. 

"Thirty-two," he stated.

Thirty-two?  That means he has as many holes as he does drill spots.  That is insane.

We spent the next forty-five minutes studying the video and talking about the band, where I learned that they have very little staff, no electronics, infrequent access to a practice field, and, after years of being relegated to pep-band status, were just recently allowed to perform at halftime.

"We're not gonna make state any time soon; we're just hoping to get better," he said.


 He did not sound despondent, resigned, or defeated; he was just a realist.


Like our sports colleagues, inadequate funding had him marching on an unlevel playing field and on the outside looking in.

 The marching arts have undergone a significant transformation in the past two decades. Increased staff, program designers, movement specialists, annual uniform changes, travel budgets, electronics, arrangers, and drill writers have improved the quality of the instruction and the product young people and their teachers are producing. Pedagogy and performance go hand-in-hand and are at an all-time high.

But there are costs associated with this - both financial and educational.

We all want what's best for our students and our own children. I would be the first to insist that despite rising costs, we (music education) provide greater access, affordability, and value than any other youth activity. But as unintended as it may be, we do leave some kids and teachers behind.

Every educator strives to ensure that money is not an obstacle to participation, and in the case of my son's band, I wonder how his directors provide so much with such a small band fee. I don't think he charges enough for all that he provides. After announcing the fee amount at a recent parent meeting, I seriously wondered if he was laundering Crypto-currency on the side.  I should put him in charge of my household finances.

I know that enhanced experiences require enhanced resources - and I am  in favor of them and am happy to pay. I also understand that these barriers are not limited to music and have existed for many decades. I also wonder if we are doing enough to provide equal opportunities and access to those who are not in the same situation.

As private equity firms increasingly infiltrate youth sports, I can't help but wonder when this trend will spill over into music education. The potential impact on the accessibility and affordability of music education is a cause for concern, but if done right, it could also be a cause for celebration.

I'll be back next week to take a swing at this, though remember, I am great with a glove, but not so great with a bat.

Have a great week,

Scott