O Captain! My Captain!

Some newsletters are effortless and joyful to write. They practically write themselves in a stream of consciousness style that leads me to believe I could have, and perhaps should have, been a writer.

Other newsletters, well, they confound me and remind me of why I am not, and probably should not be, a writer. I will let you decide privately which one is the better choice.
Late last night, tired and worn out from the road, I went looking for inspiration for the year's final missive. I Googled "great teachers" and among plethora of responses that came up was a video clip of Robin Williams playing a mid-century English teacher in Dead Poets Society. If you have not seen this movie, you are missing out on one of the finest films about teaching ever made.
Never having taken a poetry class or having a natural disposition towards this art form, I had never read Walt Whitman's epic tome and decided to look it up. It turns out that this elegy was composed by Whitman after Abraham Lincoln's assassination in 1865. Despite never having met Lincoln in person, Whitman considered him to be a very influential person in his life, hence the title O Captain! My Captain!

Whitman's poem is in part a metaphor for what you do each and every day, serving as a Captain to a young crew and guiding them safely into port. I am confident that your ten month journey has not always been easy, nor always happy, but certainly more than worthwhile.
With that in mind and as yet another year comes to a close, I share Walt Whitman's words...
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

It is not the journey your students will remember, but the one who guided them on it. For these young people and their families, you are:

O Captain! My Captain!

THANK YOU for your continued service to young people everywhere. Have a restful and relaxing summer break.

I am a LUCKY man!

So you've hit it big! You're a big deal and a self-made success story. You've played for the President and graced the stage of Carnegie Hall. You're a regular on the MEA speaking circuit and are in high demand as a clinician and expert in the field of music education. Yep, that's right. Good ole Freddie Fennell ain't got nothing on you! Clearly, you're the result of uncanny skill and a ridiculous work ethic.

Or maybe not. Maybe it's luck.

Recent studies are showing that's the most likely reality, that luck played a larger role in our success than we give it credit for. Think about all of the things that have affected your professional standing that were either out of your control or happenstance. Imagine yourself being born in a different country, or having gone to an elementary school where music was not offered. Imagine working for a principal who is unsupportive (I know, it's hard to imagine, but just try) or teaching in a school in New Orleans decimated by Hurricane Katrina.
Yes, hard work and talent are paramount, but are not the only elements to success.

Luck is a factor that's often hard for people to attribute as a part of their success. Call it cognitive dissonance or inner ego, the result is the same. We tend to fall victim to our self adulation and congratulations, when in reality, it's not just what we did, but when it happened and who helped us.

We all want to feel successful. We all want to feel special in a singular way. I am certainly no different. Lately, however, I am becoming more at peace with the idea that I am not special, remarkable, or singular in any way. Let's be honest, I am surfing in the wake created three decades ago by Dr. Tim, and doing a job that many of you could do just as well, if given the opportunity. I am happy and at peace with where I and am comfortably grounded in what I believe.

Yes I am very much "all in" in my pursuit of all things music education, but "all in" doesn't mean all alone. After all, I have YOU.

How lucky am I?

Time for an electronic cleanse...

This past weekend, way past his bedtime and on his way to bed, my six year-old son tried to sneak his iPad past me. I very sternly said, "What do you think you are doing young man?" He responded with, "Bubba (his brother) is building a cool (Minecraft) world and I want to be in it with him."

Frustrated that they were on technology instead of going to bed, I scolded them, took both devices away, and returned downstairs grumbling about kids and their electronic gadgets.

After texting my wife about it, I posted it on Twitter, and returned to watching television while responding to my emails. I thought to myself that my wife and I needed to video chat about this as I believe she is setting a bad example.

According to a recent survey about half of teens think they're addicted to their phones. They would prefer gaming and "Snapchatting" and "Instagraming" with their friends more than actually meeting up with them. I know this to be true because I read about it on Reddit while listening to a podcast.

Yes, young people are addicted to technology... Just not as addicted as we are.

Whenever you read or hear something about teenagers' obsession with Instagram, remember to compare it to our email addiction. Yep, I said addiction. According to a recent poll someone forwarded me from Facebook, nearly 60% of adults check their work email while on vacation, and 6% have checked their email while a spouse is in labor. Another 6% have checked email at a funeral and 10% at a child's school event (having just been at my son's band concert last week I think it's more like 10% DON'T check their email at school functions).

"No Brayden I wasn't surfing the net while you were playing, ehhhh, I was filming of course! Why was the camera pointed to the ground? ummmm... Let's got get some ice cream!

A recent Fortune Magazine study discovered that an average teacher receives close to 150 emails each and every day, spending as much as 28% of their work day in front of a computer screen of some sorts. And, that number is not likely to go down anytime in the near future. It makes me miss the good ole days of AOL. YOU'VE GOT MAIL!

Yes, you've got mail... And way too much of it.

There's no doubt that technology has made running a music program infinitely easier, but I'm not so sure it makes our lives better. I believe the reason we are so obsessed with technology is that we are longing for connection and validation. We don't just want to earn a Superior rating, we want everyone to know about it, and we want to know about everyone else's score. It's more about connection and validation than it is narcissism. It's one way of saying, I'M HERE, I MATTER and DO YOU SEE ME?

Speaking collectively, we miss each other. We miss being a part of something bigger than ourselves. We want to be connected to and share something with other human beings and that is one of the things your class does best!
So here's my thought...

This Friday, let's have an electronic cleanse and go old school! Let's put down our cell phones, turn off our tuners, and make some harmonies without the Harmony Director. No digital recorders, Powerpoints, or metronomes. Let's help the kids tune out the outside world by tuning in to them! Yes, on Friday, let's shut down our smart phones and put an autoresponder on our email...

Why Friday? I have another email to send to you tomorrow and I don't want you to miss it. After all, I need to be heard and validated.
Hang in there, only a few more weeks left!

An Open Letter to My Son's Band Director

The following is a conversation that I have had in my head on several occasions during the past couple of weeks. Why am I sharing it here? It's more for lack of courage than opportunity. I thought it best to test it with you before I try it with him.

This photo is from my son's band concert last Thursday.
 
(Phil Hatchner, my son's band director, enters the room and shakes my hand)

Hey Phil, that was a great concert last night. The kids played well, the house was packed, and it was only thirty minutes long. YO DA MAN PHIL!

Phil? Can I call you Phil?

(prolonged silence... I clear my throat)

I think it's time I shared something with you.
This is going to be an uncomfortable conversation for both of us... Well, more so for me than you. Well, actually, completely for me and not at all for you. Have a seat, I have something to tell you, er, confess, I guess.

(awkward pause ensues)

I am a total failure as a father... Brayden NEVER practices the trombone.

Okay, not as a father, but as a band parent. Okay, fair point... TOTAL failure may be a "little" strong, but a failure. Let's just settle on "failure as a band parent."

Don't blame him, he actually WANTS to practice the trombone, but I almost always make him practice piano instead. "What about those practice records?" you say. As long as we're coming clean, I mean, I 'm coming clean, you should know that I didn't even know about those until two weeks ago.

Do you hate me? Are you angry? Is Brayden going to fail band?

Please understand, as a music teacher, I want you to know that I understand the importance of practicing. These are formative years for my child, musically and otherwise, and I know that Brayden will never get these learning opportunities back.

I'm a band director for goodness sake. I should know better, and I do. And yet, I still failed. You must be so disappointed in me.

Listen... I know that you are tired. I know that you are frustrated by increasing demands and decreasing instructional time. I know I am supposed to be a role model for my son in all things musical. I know that you are concerned about budgets, job security, and the future of music education. I know that parents like me give you pause and have had you considering making a change to your career on more than one occasion.

Forgive me Phil, with football, karate, piano, homework, and family time... It's just hard. But that's no excuse.

I WILL do better Phil, I will work HARDER. I PROMISE.

But, in the likely event that this doesn't come to fruition, just know that I am thankful he has you as a teacher.

I am thankful that he wants to practice. I am thankful that he looks forward to band. I am thankful that you have been able to bring my dream to his life. I am thankful that you are doing the job that I left behind. I am thankful that you are helping him to pursue his dream of becoming the next Trombone Shorty, while I am just helping with the shorty part.

In short (no joke here Phil), I am thankful for YOU Phil.

You did say I could call you Phil, right?

Oooooh, Happy Teacher Appreciation Week Mr. Hatchner!

Happy Teacher Appreciation Week

I hope that by now (Monday morning at 6:00 a.m.) your in-box and voicemail, are OVERFLOWING with messages of thanks and appreciation for all that you do. Other than being a parent, few adults can rival the opportunity for real impact that a music teacher provides.
The overall level of commitment your students make, the emotionally charged environment of making music, and the sheer magnitude of time you spend together creates a virtual perfect storm of opportunity for character enhancement. This is something that we sometimes take for granted and other teachers crave. But this opportunity comes at a cost, personal and professional.

Listen... I know that you are tired. I know that you are frustrated by increasing demands and decreasing time. I know that you are concerned about budgets, job security, and the future of music education. I know that more than a few of you have considered making a change to your career on more than one occasion. Having said that, I wanted to tell you something.
You matter to your students.

You make a difference in their lives.

You make your school and community a more human place.

You matter to them.

You matter to me.

You matter!

Music is important. Without you, there is no music, and that would be a tragedy, for you and for your students. I have always believed that your worst day on a podium is better than your best day in a cubicle.
 
A fun appreciation activity for you and your students!

Can I suggest an activity to put a smile on your face? At the end of class, take a few minutes and have your students write a note of appreciation to other teachers on your campus.

 
Trust me, you and your program will get far more out of this activity than the ten minutes of class time you put into it.

While your students are working on their notes, perhaps you could use this time to send a note to some of the music teachers who helped you as well. If not, consider dropping a note to your administrators, both building and district. After all, it's always better to build bridges than burn them.

Have a GREAT week!

My chicken scratch and the "Mozart Effect"

My wife says that my handwriting is like chicken scratch, and while I agree, I contend that it's making me smarter, and I have proof. A recent study found that the slower process of taking notes longhand engaged the brain in a more beneficial way as the students were forced to be more selective about what they wrote.

The study further states that the greatest brain development occurs when students are both mentally AND physically engaged in the learning process. And while that may seem somewhat obvious, music has not always embraced this notion.

I am sure you have heard of the now debunked "Mozart Effect." This famous, but fallacious study states that merely listening to certain types of music improves intelligence. It turns out that it's simply not true.

(Editors note: Scott is now going to make a valiant but highly unscientific attempt to correlate two unrelated studies. Prepare to be entertained)

In a more recent and unrelated study published by Northwestern University stated that our brain experiences a similar effect when we are handwriting notes as happens when we are making music. The study, published in TIME Magazine, states that the act of creating music versus just hearing it causes greater activity and growth in brain function.

It turns out that playing notes is just as important and has a similar benefit to handwriting them. The article further states,"In the same way that watching sports won't make you fitter, merely listening to music is unlikely to make you smarter." This will almost assuredly disappoint my television watching, iPad loving ten year old son more than you know.
What does all of this mean?

It means that being in an ensemble matters. It means that it's not just the product, but the process of making music that changes us. It means that the humanity of music, creating, collaborating, and communicating, isn't just important, it is integral to our brain development.
It means that in good days and bad, right notes and wrong, you are helping young people to grow musically, intellectually, and emotionally. It means that you have an important place in your students' lives, in the school community, and in the world of education. It means that you and your class can't be replaced by a Spotify station or an iTunes play list and that what you do matters!

But more important than that, it means that Mozart has far less of an "effect" on young people compared to YOU.

Yes, I prefer right notes to wrong ones, but there is no data that suggests the right ones develop students' brains any better than the wrong ones. What matters is that they aren't just taking notes, they are making them as well.
Let's keep this one a secret from my son!

Have a great week everyone!

 
p.s. Last week the 2016 Pulitzer Prize committee announced their 2016 winners and I was snuffed AGAIN! Clearly the selection committee was made up of keyboard typing, non-musicians as not choosing my blog shows a serious lack of brain development.

THE COLOR OF HARMONEY PART 2

More music teachers are role models for minority students than teachers of any other subject. 36% of surveyed minority students identified music teachers as their role models, compared to 28% for English teachers, 11% for elementary teachers, and 7% for physical education teachers. Source: Journal of Research in Music Education,1993.

Last week, I stated that while I believed money and access was a barrier to music participation, it is not the only one. Then what is?

Perhaps it's me.

Music programs are a reflection of their directors, musically and otherwise. As a teacher, my personal and musical values were deeply embedded into and permeated virtually every facet of the the program. The indoctrination to my way of thinking began on the first day of freshman band camp and continued unabated until the day the students graduated four years later. More than any other curricular area, a music teacher has immense control over each facet of the program. Every decision I made, large and small, had an impact on not just the students I taught, but the students I didn't.

Simply stated, I was not a reflection of my school community. I was (and still am) a caucasion, college educated, moderately affluent, classically trained musician, teaching in a community that was anything but. My decisions and approach to building a program were skewed by those facts. Did we find success? Yes. Did we lose some students because of it? Yes.

Our educational, personal, and musical influence is far and wide and represents both our single greatest opportunity and most significant burden. We know that musical excellence requires creating a culture of excellence that demands a strict adherence to a singular approach... My approach. Right or wrong, good or bad, it was all on me.

Because of the way I taught, and who the students were, is it possible that there were some young people that were left on the outside of the music building looking in? Is it possible there was a group of students that liked and wanted to be a part of the program but didn't like my approach or want me as their teacher?

We know that in building a successful program, the teacher isn't necessarily thinking about race, gender, religion, or creed. He is just thinking about programmatic and student success, one of which requires uniformity while the other requires individuality. Successful programs require one identity, created by one person, for one program, which fits one type of student. In this model, someone has to be left behind.

My model was built around discipline, dedication, and teamwork. The question is, did I teach it or just attract students who already had it? Perhaps in building success, I was limiting it to those who already had it. In building a program, I might have eliminating individuals. In working at a Title One school, I might have been eliminating or ignoring the Title One students.
Was I helping more than I was hurting? Was I doing more harm than good? I am not sure but I do know that my proudest teaching moment was when I brought the ENTIRE school community together for a Concert of Heroes. There were no ratings earned, no trophies won, but some true life lessons were taught, and perhaps, some new and different lives were changed.

What could YOU do to reach a new and different set of students? What way could YOU teach to reach your same students in a different way? What new person could YOU reach and what effect could YOU have?

Teaching isn't just about working with those wanting success, but those needing it! Now let's go teach!

Have a great week everyone!

 
p.s. Last week I gave you with a homework assignment: pull the enrollment data for your school, compare it to your ensembles, and ask yourself: Who am I teaching and how does it compare to the rest of the school? What did you discover?
 

The Color of HarMONEY

It's fair to say that I spent most of my teaching career in lower socio-economic areas that were diverse in population. I didn't do this for moral or philosophical reasons. I didn't do it to right a wrong or make a statement about the educational injustices of poverty. I did it because it simply fit my personality and teaching style. In other words, I did it for me.

One day in a department chair meeting, we were handed the latest enrollment statistics for the school (gender, age, ethnicity, nationality, etc.) As someone who is interested in data points, I dove into the numbers with the zeal that others might delve into a Holst score. As I looked at page after page of spreadsheets and pie charts, I came to one inescapable conclusion: the band I taught looked nothing like the whole of the school.

To be clear, in none of the traditional ways that we break down student enrollment data did my ensemble even come close to looking like the breakdown of numbers on the spreadsheet. I wasn't even within the standard deviation in one single area. I was shocked!

How could this be?

Was there a reason?

Was I to blame?

Where were the "rest of the kids" on these spreadsheets?

In order to alleviate my sense of guilt, I looked at the enrollment numbers at my feeder programs and found the same level of disparity, but why?

Yes, among my music education colleagues I was quick to point out that my school had an 82% rate of free and reduced lunch AND a successful band program, but what I failed to mention was that my band did not share the same free and reduced lunch rate as the school. Not even close.
You don't have to be a mathematical scholar to know that if my first period class was disproportionately not like the rest of the school, in a classroom somewhere else on campus was disproportionately higher in the other direction.

Listen, I don't think it comes as a surprise that music education is not as diverse as we might like or hope for it to be. You also don't have to be Einstein to take out a map and make the correlation between laudable music programs and the affluent suburbs. It's easy to say "it's about the money," but I am not convinced that money is the central issue when it comes to failure or success. An issue? Yes, but the central one. I don't believe so.

Of course, it takes money to run a music program, but if money alone were the issue and we were to buy all new equipment and build great facilities in the middle of the inner city, would those students be performing at the Midwest Clinic or Grand Nationals in the near future?
What stands in the way of success for these schools and their students? What keeps them from reaching their potential? What is holding them back? If I were to be honest, I would have to admit it might have something to do with me.

I'll be back next week to finish this conversation, but in the mean time, I have a homework assignment for you. Pull the enrollment data for your school and compare it to your ensembles and ask yourself, who am I teaching and how does it compare to the rest of the school? The answer just might surprise you.

Have a great week everyone!
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Self (deception) Portraits

Recently Canon Cameras conducted a very unique and compelling social experiment. Six photographers were given an assignment to shoot portrait photos of one man. Each photographer is told a different story about the person they are shooting: he's a millionaire, a lifesaver, an ex-con, a fisherman, a psychic, and a recovering alcoholic.
click below to watch the experiment

It was remarkable to see how the fictitious "story" changed the way the photographer shot him and the how varied the photos were. Same subject, same room, but very different results. It was also interesting to see how the photographers responded to seeing the other photographs of the same subject.

I realize it's a bit of a stretch (since when has that ever stopped me?) but I wonder what a similar experiment might look like with music teachers and their students?

Here is my experiment:
Imagine you receive a call from the front office saying that a new student is registering for your class and would like to meet you. Excited at the prospect of adding to your class count and possibly filling a musical void in your ensemble, you make your way to the office with visions of grandeur and hopes of all-state playing... Twins perhaps? YES!

You reach the registrar's office, the new student student stands up, extends her hand and says, "Hi, my name is Malika and I play the....

STOP RIGHT THERE!
If we were to video tape the exchange that follows, how might your reactions change if the next word to leave the her mouth was;

• drum set
• oboe
• alto sax
• violin
• guitar

or if she followed it with, I am

• a brand new beginner
• an all-state player
• a jazzer
• only here for a semester

Would your reaction change if she played an instrument of need in your ensemble? Would your response change if she were coming from a very successful program or a very weak program? Even more uncomfortable to think about is how your reaction would change based on her age, gender, dress, height, weight, vocabulary, etc.

The change in your body language/tone/energy level would likely be small and perhaps imperceptible to the student, but would likely be there nonetheless.

I do firmly believe that en large music educators are among the most welcoming, kind, and accepting group of people you will ever meet. I also believe that they work tirelessly to ensure that EVERY student grows and evolves, both musically and otherwise, but the nature of what we do has us placing "value" on students that may not necessarily be fair.

Yes, it's human nature. Yes, we strive to treat every child equitably. But as unintentional as it may be, it's possible that we may bring biases to our students that might in some way change how we (or other students) treat them. Perhaps, the lens we see our students through affects the way they see themselves.

Just some Wednesday morning thoughts...

Heads up, around here we are equal parts stressed out and excited. We have LOTS to share in the coming weeks, so you may hear from us a little more than usual, but we promise it is worth it!
Thanks and have a great week!
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p.s. Keeping the newsletter light and the stereotypes alive... Researchers have found that participating in a drum circle can have mental health benefits. Maybe that's what we have been doing wrong with the drummers? We forgot to put them in circles!

Watch me go all fanboy

You're on my list mister! No, it has nothing to do with who's been naughty or nice. It's not that kind of list. My list is a kind of bucket list. Not of things I want to do, but of people I want to meet. The list has been my constant companion for decades, but has changed and evolved and over time. When I get the opportunity to remove a name from the list, I simply add another. It is a work in progress.

I've never been described as a shy person. I am unabashedly bold and at times somewhat brazen. I come by it naturally as my mother is the exact same way. I remember her telling me at a very young age, "You can go anywhere you want and meet anyone you want, as long as you are polite, courteous, and willing to leave when they ask." Following in her gregarious footsteps, I have never been shy about going all "fanboy" on someone, musically or otherwise!

The combination of my tenacity, audacity, and lack of decorum knows no bounds and once I have you in my cross hairs, it is unlikely you will escape without a meet and greet. When I see my prey, I lay in waiting ready to pounce at the opportune moment. You call it stalking, I call it ... Fennell, Reed, Paynter, Revelli... I met them all and glad to say that I have. Through it all, only one name from my original list remains... Ray Cramer. He has been the Clark Kent to my Superman, the Snuffleuppagas to my Bob and Maria, the... well I think you get the point. We've been in proximity of each other but have never met, that is UNTIL NOW.

A recent chance meeting, turned into a webisode, which turned into coffee, which turned into lunch. Trust me when I say that hanging out with Ray Cramer for three hours was truly a bucket list moment for me.