Iron Chef vs. Swedish Chef and "cooking" up leaders!

My son Evan and I LOVE to watch cooking shows. Whenever he is sick or just needing a little "daddy time," we gather our snacks and hunker down for a Food Network marathon. To be specific, Chopped Junior is our drug of choice. Heck, how hard can a red-wine reduction sauce be when a 12 year old can make it? These shows make everything in the kitchen seem creative and exciting, and I am NOTHING if not creative and exciting!

To be honest, I am a disaster as a cook. My ignorance goes well beyond that of the average male who spent thirty-five years as a bachelor. Truly, I am a total waste of human space in the kitchen. In my head, I see myself as the Iron Chef, but in reality, I am more like the Swedish Chef.... MORK, MORK, MORK!

My wife (who taught a high school culinary class) has tried to teach me, but I quickly become bored with the mundane stuff (chopping, slicing, and measuring) and want to move on the part when I get to light stuff on fire and use the blender. YES! Power tools for the kitchen! Men love to work with power tools, even if they are wearing an apron at the time.

Recently, my cooking training wheels were removed as I was tasked with making cookies. I scoffed at the simplicity of it all and saw this as beneath me. How hard could this be? Puuuullleeeeaaassseeee, I GOT THIS!

With my seven year old Evan by my side, I dumped all of the ingredients into the blender, which is appearently different than a mixer, adding eggs, milk, and butter. (Note: juggling eggs is NOT recommended, especially when you don't know how to juggle.) I then surveyed the assortment of mixing speeds from which to choose. Man alive, how could there be so many options for mixing? Stir, puree, whip, blend, crush – as far as I’m concerned, they should have just put fast, faster, fasterer, and fastererest! Fast is is good, but fastererest is better and quicker, so Evan and I decided on that!

After cleaning cookie batter off Evan, myself, and the ceiling, we continued on, but now had as my wife puts it, "proper supervision."

Next problem... Ingredients and measurements. I viewed the ingredient list more as a guideline than a requisite list. Baking soda versus baking powder, WHO CARES?! Tomato, tomahto! The details bore me! I want to approach the baking of cookies with the same reckless abandonment I use in cooking.

It turns out that you can’t do this. My patient wife explained to me that baking is a science and unlike my freewheeling approach to cooking, is an exercise in following step by step directions (something that has been proven not to be my strong point) before you can be creative. In the chemical reaction that is baking, failing to meet the necessary conditions or alteration of the size and scope of the ingredients in any way, might yield the undesirable results.

In a cooking, an extra pinch of salt, a touch more flour and five additional minutes can be genius, in baking it can be disasterous.

Me? As a teacher and a leader, I am more of a cooker, than a baker. I understand the need for structure and oversight, but I prefer to solve problems in a unique and personal way. To my way of thinking, no two students are exactly the same; so therefore, no two situations involving people can be the same.

There is a need for "bakers" in our profession and our world – people who understand, appreciate and follow precise and specific directions. I would not want a doctor, fighter pilot, computer coder, or pharmacist to be a "chef." Yes, their jobs require creativity, but only AFTER they have followed the prescribed formula for success. As I said, there is a distinct and ever-growing need for these people – I just know that I need not apply.

As a teacher and a leader, are you a baker or a chef? When choosing your student leaders, do you consider their skill sets and personality types? Is your librarian a baker and your drum major a chef? Do you match their job to their personality or the other way around? There is no right or wrong person; there are just right and wrong people for the jobs.

Either way, be sure to cover everything up before turning on the blender – I should know, I am still cleaning cookie dough off of our kitchen ceiling.

I'll be the Goose to your Maverick!

As long as I can remember I've had a fascination with flying. Despite anyone's best explanation, I am still confounded by the fact that we can lift 75 tons of sheet metal into the air and bring it back down without a big KABOOM. Despite flying over 300 times a year, the thrill of flying has never gotten old.

I have mentioned my neighbor, John in past newsletters (here & here), and while I have talked about his service to our country and general good neighborliness, I don't believe I ever told you what he does for a living. He's a helicopter pilot! 

Having never been in a helicopter, I have, on more than one occasion, slipped John a not so subtle hint that should he ever need a "Goose" to his "Maverick" (see how I compared myself to Tom Cruise there), I was READY, WILLING, and ABLE!

John called me a little while back asking, "What are you doing tomorrow?" I answered, "Ummm, working." He said, "Wanna play hookie and help me bring a helicopter back from Colorado?" My response? Say it with me now... "I FEEEEEL THE NEEEEED. THE NEEEEED FOR SPEEEEEEEEED!"

I can't share all of the details of our trip, as he says his company might not approve of the "scenic route" we took but suffice it to say, it was one for the books.

John has been a helicopter pilot in and out of the military for over twenty years and has seen and done it all. Me? Well, despite all of my frequent flier miles, my only experience with helicopters comes from parenting, which is helicoptering of a very different kind.

Trust me when I say that when it comes to hovering, both the flying and parenting type, being a passenger is WAY more fun that being the pilot. Beyond the in-flight responsibilities and requirements, pilots and parents shoulder the enormous weight of knowing that they are ultimately responsible for other people's lives.

Teaching? Well, that's a little different. We have to be comfortable both as a passenger and a pilot and know when to serve in which role. And while we play an important role in kids' development, we do not ultimately shoulder the responsibility for their success.

But, we play a pivotal and problematic role in their lives.

As an educator, we have to be able to recognize when to fly the plane and when to sit back and be quiet. We have to shepherd our students in the right direction, but allow them to make their own decisions. We have to know when to be in command and when to be quiet. We must point out storms that lay ahead, but allow them to navigate through them in their own way. We must provide them with the benefit of our experience, but allow them to choose their own destination and chart their own path.

In other words, sometimes we have to be Goose and sometimes we have to be Maverick.

As I said, when it comes to our students, we are equal parts passenger and pilot on THEIR journey. As much as we might like to think otherwise, it is in fact, THEIR journey. And while we bear a great deal of responsibility for their training, the ultimate burden and responsibility for their lives falls more on them than it does us. Sometimes, in an effort to do what is right, we forget that.

Thanks John, for the flight, fellowship, and showing me my home, children, and profession from a different vantage point. I will be your Goose anytime.

That is, of course, unless you need a Maverick.

There's an APP(athy) for that!

Like many modern day Gen X'ers, I consider myself to be somewhat of a techno-crat. I’m no savant by any means, but let's just say, that like many of you, I have an unapologetic and unnatural love for all things electronic, especially my phone… Or should I say my iPhone.

My phone has an app for just about every important thing in my life. I have a health tracker, a budget tracker, a news tracker, a stock tracker, and a bill paying app, all of which I ignore.

I also have a Starbucks app that I should ignore, but don’t, and a Words with Friends app that at times consumes my life. Drat you, John Burn, for being infinitely smarter than me.

Never before has so much information been so readily available, and rendered so useless by its user... ME! 

I seem to ignore all the apps that could actually MAKE me better, in favor of the ones that make me FEEL better. In this way, having more apps does not make me more productive, it does the exact opposite. That is, unless you count me losing fourteen consecutive games to John Burn as "a learning experience."

The problem is not with my apps, it's with my "app-athy." I have all of the tools I need to be more successful, but lack the will(power) or desire to use them. It's as true for me as a professional as it is as a person. It's not what I KNOW that holds me back, but what I FEEL!

As a teacher, I knew that I should:

  • spend more time on fundamentals, but didn't.
  • study my scores daily, but didn't.
  • get ahead in my paperwork, but didn't.
  • collaborate more with our band/choir/orchestra colleagues, but didn't.
  • lesson plan for every class, but didn't.

I also knew that I shouldn't:

  • get down when a student quit, but did.
  • let a judge's rating alter how I felt about a performance, but did.
  • let a crazy parent upset me, but did.
  • listen to politicians and pundits talk about education, but did.
  • let bad days overwhelm the good ones, but did.

As educators, we are trained to believe that with information comes power, but without the will(power) to use it, the information is oftentimes rendered useless.

As I travel from state to state speaking at MEA conventions, I see many sessions filled with knowledge; however, my experience has shown me that the sessions that are filled with people are the ones that not only makes us think, but also make us feel. Perhaps it is when feeling is combined with thinking that the greatest learning is achieved.

This is one of the many things that makes music education so impactful and unique, it combines thinking AND feeling into one singular activity.

So during these dark days of winter, contest prep, recruitment, and teacher evaluations, let me encourage you to spend at least some time reminding kids how you feel about them, because how YOU feel can help determine how THEY think. They need this affirmation of understanding and caring, because there is no app for apathy.

Until the next time, have a great week! 

Hate mail and my midlife crisis!

Have you ever received something in the mail that got you mad as all get out? Have you ever wanted to send something back to the sender with a “special note?" For me, TODAY is that day. Yep, I got a letter and I am FIRED up!

I know what you're thinking... Who would do this? Who would stoop that low? Scott is like a saint! (You were thinking that, right?)

I know what you're thinking... Who would do this? Who would stoop that low? Scott is like a saint! (You were thinking that, right?) I'll tell you who... The American Association of Retired People.

Yep, you read it correctly. Today, I was verbally assaulted by AARP. How did they do it? They sent me “birthday well wishes and an invitation to join their exclusive club.” UGH!

How rude! 

They didn't send it by mistake. The envelope wasn’t labeled with "occupant" or "resident," it had MY NAME on it. They might as well have addressed it to "old guy" or "Mr. Squishy in the Middle" or "Five Head."

Listen, I didn't ask to join their club and truth be told, I have TWO HUNDRED AND TEN DAYS until my next BIG birthday. And that’s like a lifetime away!

Yeah, yeah, they couched in real nice terms and pretty pictures of “active adults,” but to me, it was assault none the less. I was REALLY upset... But, why?

Truth be told, I never planned on being this old. I never saw it in my mind or had a vision of what it would be like. Why would I? I always saw myself as a young band teacher. Being old(er), like life... Just happened. As a part of life, and this profession, I have become many things I never planned for:

  • I didn’t plan to become more hopeful or tolerant.
  • I didn’t plan become more organized or focused.
  • I didn’t plan to become more active or engaged.

But I did, because I taught music.

  • I didn’t plan to laugh as much or feel so deeply.
  • I didn’t plan to see the bigger picture of things or focus on the smallest details.
  • I didn’t plan to learn to multi-task or deal with really big problems.

But I did, because I taught music.

  • I didn’t plan to learn how to discipline with love or become more patient.
  • I didn’t plan to learn how to parent or become more patient.
  • I didn't plan to be this happy with who I am and how I have spent my life.

But I did, because I taught music.

This professional pathway we are on is as much as journey for US as it is for our students. Life and learning doesn’t always occur at the time and place of our choosing but, whether we plan for it or not, it is ALWAYS occurring.

I didn’t plan to be the person I am today, but I am… Because I taught music.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a 4:00 reservation at Luby’s I need to get to.

Let's Celebrate (no matter who you voted for)!

This Friday, approximately fifty percent of you will be mourning the departure of one Commander in Chief, while the remaining fifty percent will be celebrating the arrival of the other. Either way, all 100% of us should be celebrating music education and the role that it plays in Friday's inaugural events and our countries history.

Yes, that's right, in just over seventy-two hours our nation's capital will be filled with not just pomp & circumstance, but MUSIC, as we welcome our nations' 45th president. With this momentous event comes an unique opportunity to talk with your students about the history of music education and the important role it has in history and national culture.

In three days, on the eastern front of the Capital Building, there will be no sports teams competing. You won't see America's best mathematicians solving quadratic equations. You won't find our best scientists debating issues of the day. What will you see and HEAR in abundance? MUSIC!

During this national celebration you will hear the herald trumpets sound, see the choirs sing, and experience the President's Own usher in a new era of leadership with Hail to the Chief.

After the swearing in ceremony, our country will celebrate, with music, offerings from marching bands, performing/recording artists, and eight separate music filled galas.

Yes, on this most important of occassions, music will be front and center as a core component to our nation's grandest of events, the Inauguration of the President of the United States. While others bemoun the state of the arts, I say we celebrate it! But how...

As a way of honoring this very important day, perhaps we treat it in a special way. For one day, perhaps we seize this teachable moment to give our students a little perspective about this activity and the role it plays in our society. Yes, I am suggesting that on one day every four years we break the golden rule of classroom management to "play less and talk more."

What should we talk about? How about:

Talk about the spirit of music and how it moves people. Talk about how music has been around since man itself. Talk about how music has affected you and your life. Talk about how every significant moment in our country's history has been marked by song. Just for one day, TALK more and play less.

The Da Capo to this tune isn't coming back for four more years, so on Friday, perhaps we might be educators of music more so than music educators.

Just a thought. Have a GREAT week everyone.

My village, pepperoni ice cream, and single teaching

"Dad...

I have to tell you something. Given your lack of experience, I think this week without Mom has gone WWAAAYYYYY better than I expected.”

- my son Evan, age 7

For the past five days, my wife has been on a well-deserved and long overdue vacation, renewing and reconnecting with some old college friends.

Me? I am in charge, BABY! Yep, that’s right. Thanks to yours truly, for the better part of 125 hours, the kids have been fed, bathed, supervised and well cared for... Mostly.

Sure, Leah (my wife), did the easy stuff like plan the meals, grocery shop, set up the carpool, fold the laundry, prep the lunches, and write a six day minute by minute itinerary/manifesto, but let’s be clear, when it comes to parenting, I am doing the HEAVY lifting here! And yes BTW, ice cream is TOTALLY a meal. Look at the ingredients: eggs, milk, chicken, spinach, and pepperoni. I didn’t say it was a good meal, but all the fundamentals are there and at least three of the eleven basic food groups.

They say it takes a village to raise a child, and they must be right, because my wife’s village checks on me constantly. They text, call, and swing by at random times asking things like "Do you need any help?" or "Just need a break?", or "Is that really spinach and pepperoni in that ice cream?” Yup, nailed it!

They try and disguise it being supportive, but something tells me the village doesn’t think I am up to the challenge. Please… I GOT THIS! It’s not like it takes a rocket scientist to memorize the Dominoes phone number. They even offer salads now (although we didn’t order them).

Like many of your households, my days and nights are filled with equal parts chaos, cacophony, laughter, and tears (the kids are laughing at me as I cry). Even though we only have two kids, the amount of things we have to do and places we have to be often has me feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. I don’t know how single parents do it. I TRULY don’t. Listen, I don’t care about race, creed, religion, gender, or age, I just think parenting is easier when you’re not alone. Yes, more and more parents are HAVING to do it by themselves, but I doubt they are WANTING to do it by themselves.

I feel the same way about being a music teacher.

Your day is filled with hundreds of children who need your love, guidance, support and attention. You are an educator, counselor, hall monitor, program director, and general sherpa to all things student related. You're tired, frazzled, and frustrated. There aren't enough hours in the day and too much to get done. And yet, because a child depends on you, you find a will and a way to muster through it. On many levels, and to many of your kids… You are the second parent.

It doesn’t go un-noticed or appreciated either. I am lucky enough to have kids reach out to me decades later, just to say, "Mr. Lang, THANK YOU (but your ice cream is terrible)."

You did it yesterday, you did it today, and will do it again tomorrow. You do it because you both WANT and HAVE to. But it wasn’t always that way.

Traditionally speaking, music programs were once populated by teaching TEAMS that divided and conquered in a way that is becoming more and more rare. Budget cuts and increased academic requirements have forced music teachers to take on more with less help. Yes, for the large majority of America, “single teaching” is not something we WANT to do, but is something we HAVE to do. You are doing it now, and you are killing it! You know that band is more than an elective. It is a way of life, and that is why we do it every single day.

But what about our village? If a takes one to raise a child, it certainly takes one to teach them. Where are the colleagues reaching out and checking in? Where are the random texts and phone calls with well wishes? Where is the support? WHERE DID OUR VILLAGE GO? Mine is fixing dinner for my kids, I pray!

Yes, I have a village there for me, because my wife has been a there for them. She is as much a part of their lives as they are a part of ours. Me, not so much… But that needs to change. I need to and should do more... FOR YOU!

I want to be there for your good days and bad: celebrations and frustrations. I want you to text, call, email, or send smoke signals. I want you to email me back after I email you. I want you to let me help you, so when I need help, I won’t feel so shallow. I want more… I want to be a part of your village. Can I? After all, I need it as the last five days have proven that I’m not very good on my own.

Now if you will excuse me. I have to go find the dog who has been missing for four days. Hey, at least it's not one of the kids!

Scott

 

p.s. Leah, if you are reading this, Brayden says if you don’t come home soon he will need expensive therapy.

p.p.s. I also realize that you do this weekly while I am traveling about the country, but let's not make this about you.

p.p.p.s. We are somehow totally out of spinach and pepperoni again.

Getting Better all the Time!

I used to get mad at my school. The teachers who taught me weren't cool. You're holding me down, turning me round. Filling me up with your rules. 

I've got to admit it's getting better. A little better all the time.

-The Beatles

A recent NBC News/Wall Street Journal poll found 54% of adults say that they're either uncertain, pessimistic, or worried about the upcoming year. Yes, 2016 was a little rough around the edges, and the body politic may not be exactly what our forefathers envisioned. But through it all, I remain unabashedly and unapologetically optimistic about the coming year.

Why, you ask? Because regardless of the prevailing sentiment, that is what we as a people do... GET BETTER! When viewed through the longer lens of history and evolution, we as a people have always invariably improved.

This is as true for music education as it for us as a people.

In his book Peak: Secrets from the New Science of Expertise, Anders Ericsson describes the constant condition of human improvement in a way musician educators can uniquely understand and identify with. As an example of his treatise, Ericcson argues that Mozart's youthful prodigy would not hold up to modern standards or scrutiny. He further states that Little Wolfgang would be considered average according to today’s Suzuki standards.

Blasphempous as it may sound, Anders believes that Mozart's abilities are significantly magnified by the limited musical understanding and teachings of the 18th century. Yep, you heard (read) me right. If Amadeus himself were to wander into today's classroom, he might just find himself hanging with the third violins!

As another, more recent example, Ericcson tells the story of Alfred Cortot, hailed in the 1930s as one of the world's greatest classical musicians. His early recordings of Chopin’s 24 Etudes were considered to be the definitive interpretations of these landmark works.

Today, teachers offer those same recordings, marred with mistakes, wrong notes, and careless technique to be an example of how NOT to play Chopin. Any professional pianist today would be expected to perform Chopin with much greater skills and musicality than the once hailed Cortot did just eighty years ago. To add fuel to the fire, New York Times music critic Anthony Tommassini believes that musical ability has increased so much in the part 80 years that if Cortot were to apply again to his alma mater, The Julliard School, he might not be accepted.

Musically and otherwise, the unmistakable and undeniable fact is that humans are getting better at just about everything we do, including teaching music. Yes, today's student musicians are better in just about every way than they have ever been. 

Why are young musicians getting better? BECAUSE THEIR TEACHERS ARE! You as a teacher are better prepared, better trained and better equipped than any group of music educators to date. Let me be clear, YOU are an example of the finest music educators to have ever stood on a classroom podium!

So how about this... The next time you hear someone complain about how our education system in crisis, or how bad kids are today, look them right in the eye and say...

"The good ole' days weren't all that good, and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems."

If they don't believe The Beatles, surely they will listen to the Piano Man! 

Bennie, a Nerf gun and my fear of high C's

I am an unabashed lover of all things Christmas. I love the chill in the air (it was brisk 72 degrees last night), the lights, the presents, the music, the scent of pine in the air (candles, cactus don't smell). Heck, I even enjoy shopping.

To add to the holiday festivities, a couple of years ago, our family adopted an Elf on the Shelf. 

For those of you who are unaware, the Elf on the Shelf spends his days motionless and untouched as a silent observer of the children in the house. At night, he comes alive and travels back to Santa with a report of an update of the days events in the Lang household. He returns just in time to wreak a little havoc, before the sun rises and he is rendered motionless once again. My boys awaken each and every morning to find their elf (ours is named Bennie) in a new location with a clue about what he has been up to the night before.

For twenty-four consecutive nights, Bennie has free rein of our house and has been known to be as sweet as he is surly. Trust me, our children have awoken to things both "naughty and nice."

Once, Bennie took our car for a joyride to see holiday lights, leaving it parked sideways in the driveway. Another time, he gave one of our boy's an unexpected haircut. But, my personal favorite was when he used the star on the top of our tree as target practice with my boys' Nerf gun. As you can imagine, Bennie had consequences for that one.

Dealing with Bennie isn't always fun. There are nights when we are exhausted and just want to go to bed. But, for the most part, my wife and I enjoy our nightly ritual as it allows us to keep the magic of Christmas alive for our two boys. Honestly, Bennie might be more for us than the kids.

Why am I telling you this? Because...

I miss teaching this time of year. I really do. I miss the music, the caroling, and the decorations. I miss our holiday party where I would hand out cards to the kids and read them my favorite holiday story. But mostly, I just miss being around kids this time of year.

I wish I could be a band room Bennie. I wish that for twenty-four days that I could return and be their Elf on the Shelf. I have plenty of ideas, and I'm already the right size! I would love to run free at night, creating chaos, leaving presents in instrument cases, and reporting back to the director who has been naughty and who has been nice. I wish I could scheme in the day and execute at night and leave the students in anticipation of what was coming next. Most of all, I wish I could be back in the middle of it all during this time of joy.

In short, I wish I could be YOU.

Yes, like our nightly ritual, teaching this time of year has it's burden's, but it also has a ton of joy. And, I hope you are able to see past the former to enjoy the latter as for me, THIS truly is the most wonderful time of the year.

If you don't have any holiday traditions in your program, start some. If you don't have a social event, create one. If you don't have a charity to support, find one. And, if you need an Elf and have a shelf that can hold about one hundred and fifty pounds, I just might know someone is willing and wanting to help.

 

One-handed typing and my learning opportunities

EDITORS NOTE: Given the pain medication induced delusional state, I have strongly encouraged Scott to take this week off. He ADAMANTLY refuses and insists that his "tens of loyal readers" require him to push forward and past the pain. Can you believe that? He ACTUALLY believes he has more than ten readers. Proof positive he is delusional.

Sitting here typing this newsletter is in many ways a painful experience. Beyond the actual physical pain associated with my surgery, also is the emotional/cognitive pain of trying to do it one handed. It is maddening, to say the least, as it takes three times as long and has four times the mistakes.

Typing isn't my only struggle. Due to an arm immobilizer (designed by Harry Houdini himself), I am relearning to do just about EVERYTHING. My once dominant arm has been rendered a useless relic in a way that only the Biosphere 2 or the Pontiac Aztek could understand.

Eating you ask? I now wear a bib as food placement to my mouth has become more of an approximation, rather than an exact location. Driving? Simple, but I need yoga-esque flexibility to navigate my good arm through the steering wheel to place the key in the ignition. Getting dressed? Let's just say, much to the delight of my six year old, the Lang household has recently loosened it's dress requirements to make pants an optional accessory.

To be honest, the entire experience has me feeling a little dejected, debilitated, and marginalized. Not that my life is so bad, but I am having to adjust as I relearn tasks mastered long ago.

What I have learned during the past week is that for me, learning something new is far easier than letting go of something old.

Because of this unexpected experience, I see now, with greater clarity, the challenges of teaching young people the value of music. I now see the connection between what I am going through for a few short weeks and what they go through for years. This is another reason that makes music education special. When a young person enters our room, we do more than teach them something new (music & instruments), we help them to let go of something old (youth & immaturity).

Let me elaborate.

Teaching young people to read notes and rhythms is important, but helping them to learn to let go of sloppiness and inattention to detail is paramount. Teaching a student a technically challenging passage matters, but helping them to learn dedication through failure in life matters more. Helping students to improvise over chord changes is intimidating, but helping them to find their own creative voice and be vulnerable in front their peers is transcendent. Teaching 125 teenagers eighty-five pages of drill and seven minutes of music is IMPRESSIVE, but teaching young people be a part of something bigger than themselves is MONUMENTAL!

As I said, learning something new is hard, but learning to let go of something old is harder.

And YOU teach BOTH each and every day.

YOU ARE AMAZING!

(Now can you teach me where my pants are and how to put them on?)

Operation and My Holiday Observation

As you read this, I am laying on a surgical table and under general anesthesia. Yep, you read that correctly! If all goes according to plan, while you sip your morning cup o' joe, I will be in lala land, getting sliced and diced like tomorrow's turkey.

I know what you are thinking, "What happened? Are you going to be ok? Are you finally getting plastic surgery?"

Ouch! That hurts... And NO!

Before you get ahead of yourself and start planning my candlelight vigil or bedside prayer gathering (You were planning those, right?), I should probably fill you in.

I tore my rotator cuff.

I would like to tell that I sustained the injury in a glory filled athletic endeavor or an exuberant moment conducting Holst, but you're unlikely to believe either of those. Let's just skip the "how," save you the lie, and me, the embarrassment.

Having never been under general anesthesia before, I had some basic questions and concerns. Would I feel anything? What would I remember? Is this the stuff Michael Jackson used? Can I get it to go?

The doctor was thorough, patient, and professional as he walked me through what to expect both during the procedure and during the extended recovery period.

Am I concerned about the surgery? Nope!

After all, these are highly skilled medical professionals with years of experience. I checked them out and their diplomas were real! Seriously, if you can't trust someone with advanced degrees, professional expertise, and extensive experience, who can you trust?

Which is why I trust you, yes... YOU!

You are every bit the seasoned professional that my doctor is. Your skill sets may be different but the result is the same; you are both professionals worthy of my trust.

Think about it, you have a bachelor degree. You are a highly regarded, experienced veteran teacher with a track record of success. You likely have advanced degrees or even your Doctorate. Some of you are even Nationally Board Certified. To be clear, your credentials can stand alongside any other highly respected professional... But you're not always treated you that way.

I don't know why, in our society, we see a Doctor of Music Education as something less than an M.D., but we do. I don't know why an MBA is more prestigious than a MA, but it is. I don't know why we treat years of standing on a podium as something less than years of standing in an exam room, but it happens. I don't know why we see someone who treats a broken heart as less than someone who treats a broken bone, but this is what our society does each and every day, and I believe it is wrong.

On this Thanksgiving Eve, I am truly blessed to be under the supervision and care of some of the finest professionals on the planet. But even more than that, I am most thankful for the fact that I can say the same about my children.

Thank you for doing what you do.