Wallace Hartley and Standing At Your Post

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Wallace Hartley may be the most famous conductor you've never heard of. Born and raised in Lancashire, England, he was introduced to music at a very young age by his father Albion Hartley, the Choirmaster at the local methodist church, where the family attended Sunday services.

Despite his musical upbringing, his destiny as a musician was far from certain. In fact, after dropping out of college, where he studied business, Hartley gave up music and went to work for the Craven Union Bank in Colne. A year later he would return to his one-time hobby of playing violin in hopes of making it his profession. His road forward was difficult as he moved from town to town, playing in small communal orchestras and local dance bands.

Wallace never led a major orchestra, and there are no recordings of ensembles with him at the helm. He did not have standing in any professional music associations, and he lacked the academic credentials to teach at a university.

Why is he so famous, you ask?

Because his first and only conducting position was leading the dance band on the HMS Titanic.

On the night of April 14th, 1912, while on its maiden voyage, the RMS Titanic struck an iceberg and quickly began to sink. Hartley, recognizing the severity of the situation, assembled his musicians and began to play, hoping to calm the anxious passengers. The band played until the very end. Survivors report the band playing as the boat slipped into the cold and icy ocean playing Nearer My God to Thee as their final song, a hymn Hartley learned as a boy while in the church choir. 

These seven men were more than musicians; they were hailed as heroes.

One passenger stated, "Many brave things were done that night, but none were braver than those done by men playing minute after minute as the ship settled quietly lower and lower in the sea. The music they played served as their immortal requiem and their right to be recalled on the scrolls of undying fame."

And, one London Times article about the tragic sinking stated, "The part played by the orchestra on board the Titanic in her last dreadful moments will rank among the noblest acts in the annals of heroism at sea."

None of the musicians survived.

Hartley's body was recovered from the frigid waters two weeks later, with his instrument case still attached to his lifeless body. A statue honoring Wallace currently stands at the center square of his hometown, where he is still considered a hero.

There are some parallels to be drawn between Wallace Harley and yourself. And while the circumstances are very different, we are in dire times and circumstances. There are widespread fears and devastating losses of life. Through it all, like our musical colleagues from over one hundred years ago, you stand steady and are making music.

Why does this matter? Because in birth & death, in tragedy & triumph, music has always played an integral part of humanity's brightest and darkest times. Music is as much a part of our being as our appendages and brains are. Now more than ever, music matters. 

I can't imagine how Wallace and his musical colleagues felt in those final hours or what compelled them to do what they did, other than to assume that they had a job to do and knew that music would help. Nor can I fully understand how you feel or what compels you to do what you do, other than to assume the same, that you have a job to do and believe that music can help.

During this past year, on many occasions, you could have thrown up your hands and run for the proverbial lifeboat. You could have put yourself first and left your students behind. You could have hidden, paralyzed by fear, and ignored what you were trained to do.

But you didn't.

You stood your ground and manned your post. You provided aid and comfort in a time of crisis and chaos. For the past twelve months, you made the intolerable a bit more tolerable, and the darkest moments just a little bit brighter. You made music.

And while you and Wallace endured very different crises, your responses are both very similar.He led the dance band on the Titanic. You led the music of the pandemic.

Play on, my friends. Play on!

- Scott

Fine Art and Happy Accidents!

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Bob Ross was an American painter, television host, and cultural icon. Ross was the creator and host of the Joy of Painting, a PBS show filmed from a Muncie, Indiana house. The show was wildly successful and ran throughout North America for over a decade. 

Bob specialized in a “wet on wet” painting technique that did not require the paint to dry, allowing him to paint quickly. Each of the 403 episodes was meticulously planned out to be achievable by anyone in thirty minutes or less, regardless of talent or experience.

Ross was a twenty-year Air Force veteran and developed an interest in painting after taking an art class at a U.S.O. in Anchorage, Alaska in the 1960s. 

Bob was well known for his permed hair and gentle voice as much as he was for his artistic prowess, although neither were native to him. He loathed his hair but realized its marketing power and decided to keep it, even making it a part of his company logo. As for his gentle demeanor, this once Master Sergeant was known for “being the guy who makes you scrub the latrine, make your bed, and who screams at you for being late to morning roll call.” 

Ross decided he would not raise his voice after he left the military.

Since the pandemic hit, and nearly a decade after his death, Bob Ross is experiencing a renaissance. He is more popular than ever before. In the past year, he has garnered millions of views on YouTube, had four works purchased by the Smithsonian, had a museum opened in his honor, and according to Google, is the most searched American artist on the internet. His catchphrase of “there are no such thing as mistakes, just happy little accidents” is known and used ubiquitously by young and old alike. To that point, next week, Mountain Dew is sponsoring a national promotion and releasing a “lost” episode of the long-running T.V. show.

But not everyone loved Bob.

Traditionalists scoffed at his seascapes and mocked his endless trees and picture-perfect mountains. Critics say that “real” art can’t be taught from a screen or finished in thirty minutes. Bob responded to those critiques with: 

“It’s not traditional art. It’s not fine art, and I don’t try to tell anybody it is.”

To my way of thinking, Bob Ross was the pioneer of distance learning. He built the first model for online fine art instruction, and similar to many of you, did it from home. He taught students in person for years, but saw the television screen as a way to reach a much larger audience.

Bob Ross made art that was accessible and approachable. He empowered, engaged, and gave agency to millions of people. He provided a calm presence and judgment-free space for his students. Dubbed the “Mr. Rogers of the art world,” Bob Ross gave his students the ability to express hope and be positive, even when gloom and doom were abundant.

The same can and should be said for music education. It gives our students hope and positivity when everything around them is dark.

Yes, music is meant to be created with others. But more importantly, it is meant to be shared with others. And Bob Ross taught us, and the latter trumps the former. The need to share music with each other is more important than quality of the performance and the size of the ensemble. Students need to have music in their lives, even if it is via a screen. 

This is not how music is meant to be made, but unfortunately, is how it's being made in some places. And while your inner critic may scoff at the quantity of the ensemble and quality of the music, Bob reminds us that it’s not traditional music. It’s not fine music, and you don’t need to convince yourself that it is. But it is music. And with all its flaws and imperfections, Bob would tell us that making music remotely during a pandemic is...

A happy little accident.

Have a great week.

- Scott

Teddy Roosevelt, Rocky Balboa, and A Fair Fight!

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President Teddy Roosevelt was the epitome of a tough guy. Born into a wealthy family, he might have had it easy, but his path was a difficult one. Teddy lost his wife and mother on the same day, helped dig the Panama Canal, and rode with the Rough Riders in Cuba. He even cheated death on more than one occasion by beating Malaria and surviving an assassination attempt while in office. Dwayne, "the Rock" Johnson, ain't got nothing on our 26th President. 

President Roosevelt (Teddy) was well-known for his love of fisticuffs. On occasions, he would ask professional pugilists to hit him in the jaw as hard as they could, frequently immediately returning the favor. His passion for pugilism continued into his Presidency, where he was known to spar anyone and everyone in the White House gym. In one such fight, Teddy got walloped so hard in the right temple; that he permanently lost his sight. A fact he would not publicly reveal until after he left office. 

He indeed was our nation's first cage fighters, considering he was proficient in jiu-jitsu, wrestling, and, of course, boxing. 

In addition to being a fine physical specimen, Teddy Roosevelt was a considerable intellectual. He was the father of the modern U.S. Navy, was the first President to win a Nobel Peace Prize, had a photographic memory and was a prolific writer. He is also the author of one of my favorite quotes of all time. 

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

― President Theodore Roosevelt

I would share this quote with my students in some format every single year. One such student took the quote to heart, wrote it down, taped it to her bathroom mirror, and she read it every day. She ended up framing it and giving it to me as a gift upon her graduation. It has hung on my office wall through for over twenty-five years. That young lady is the founder of United Sound.

In politics and life, it is easy to point out where the strong man has stumbled. It's easy to point out where the doer of deeds did wrong or fell short of expectations. It's even easier when the object of your venom is unlikely to fight back. And schools, NEVER fight back.

During the pandemic, our schools have become a public punching bag. They get hit from all sides by all opponents in all ways. They take verbal jabs, hooked from the right, uppercuts from the left, and knock blows from the press. At the end of the crisis, we look like Sylvester Stallone, and at the end of the movie Rocky; still standing but badly damaged.

Opinions are easy, and blog posts (like this) and never short on criticism. Our "Yelp" culture provides a type of anonymity and protection that emboldens the critic and fuels the vitriol, often leaving a defenseless "victim" in their wake. But know that often, these WWE-Esque takedowns are not rooted in educational philosophy, but in fear and pain. Fear of the virus, for their jobs and the uncertainty of their child's future. The school is just the vessel of vitriol, and the bag that is easiest to punch. It is not right, but it is real. The problem is that itwe trivializes and disregards those who are "fighting the good fight." 

Teddy reminds us that "the credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming." 

But he also reminds us the that when someone punches you in the jaw, sometimes you have to punch back! 

Something to think about.

Have a great week.

- Scott

Free Jim Memberships & My Introduction

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Sadly, last month Jim Haynes passed away at the age of 87.

Jim was not a famous musician or bandleader. He did not compose anything or even play an instrument. He was not uber-famous or someone you likely have ever heard of. But, Jim Haynes led an eventful and interesting life. 

Jim created Edinburgh's first paperback book shop and founded the London Arts Performance Lab in London (where he hung out with the likes of John Lennon & David Bowie). He then became a university lecturer in sexual politics at the University of Paris, a place he would call home until his passing. Jim was a free spirit who was beloved by many. To that end, his obituary in the London Daily Herald called him "the unofficial agent for the beat generation in Scotland."

Jim created Edinburgh's first paperback book shop and founded the London Arts Performance Lab (where he hung out with the likes of John Lennon & David Bowie). He then became a university lecturer in sexual politics at the University of Paris, a place he would call home until his passing. Jim was a free spirit who was beloved by many. To that end, his obituary in the London Daily Herald called him "the unofficial agent for the beat generation in Scotland."

Yes, as a professional, he was successful and significant. But he is remembered for something entirely different.

For forty years, every Sunday evening, Jim Haynes operated an open-door, open-house dinner at his Paris home. Absolutely anyone was welcome to attend, and all you had to do was phone or email, and he would add your name to the list. No questions asked. Just put a donation in an envelope when you arrive. 

His dinners were as electric as they were eclectic, as people from all over would mingle about, holding paper plates of food in their hands, talking with strangers about the events of the day. Heavy with generosity and light in spirit, his parties would begin at 7 pm sharp and end no later than 11 pm.

Jim's influence was not limited to his dinners in Paris. He published four books with lists of people willing to host similar dinner parties in Romania, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, and the Baltics. His goal was to introduce everyone in the world. No agenda. No titles. No backstory or baggage. Just an introduction. He believed good things would follow.

Jim was indeed a pioneer in social networking. He opened his home to strangers long before AirBnB, delivered food to strangers thirty-five years before Grubhub, and had people connecting and interacting in ways that Facebook and Twitter never could. Jim was an endearing and beloved character who led an eventful and consequential life.

I wish I would have met him and attended one of his Sunday dinners.

If you were to ask, I would tell you that I miss teaching. For me, the elements I miss most are not the bell-to-bell instruction of making music. I miss the passing periods, after-school chats, and walking down the crowded hallways of the music complex, filled with students and friends, happily going about their day. I miss knowing that, like clockwork, my life would be filled with youthful energy and enthusiasm, and with similar precision, it would end just as it began. I miss seeing the same kids along with new ones. I miss being in on, part of, and the butt of a good joke.

And I miss the introductions.

I miss introducing seniors to freshmen. Introverts to extroverts. All-staters to beginners. I miss introducing students to music from far away places they have never heard. I miss starting life-long friendships through this incredible activity. Most of all, I miss introducing my student to their next best self as they get a glimpse of what they have yet to discover and the person they will soon be.

Yes, I miss the introductions.

In some ways, your music room is like Jim Haynes's living room. It's the epicenter of a social experiment that brings people together on schedule for prescribed periods. It has a distinct purpose but no plan. It allows students (and teachers) to find a place and space with people they are comfortable with and share similar (or not) values, thoughts, and ideas. It is an introduction to friends, music, and themselves.

And if you listen to Jim Hayes, an introduction is all that is needed. Good things will happen from there. 

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Scott. 

Have a great week.

Airport Scott and Different Points of View

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Airport Scott and Different Points of View

My family does not like to travel with me. They really don't. 

When we go on trips, they openly encourage me to take a different flight to our destination. I used to think they were just kidding, but it turns out they are not. Apparently, I am not the easiest person to travel with. If you are to believe my family (and you shouldn't), as soon as I hit the economy lot at the airport, I become a different person. 

My family calls him "Airport Scott."

Airport Scott doesn't mean to be unpleasant or difficult. And he GENUINELY apologizes when he leaves the family behind at security with all of the luggage. Airport Scott doesn't mean to roll his eyes at people who don't understand that traffic flow in a concourse is the same as the freeway, slow people to the right. He tries not to mock his children as they peruse the gift stores or fall prey to the $4.00 bottles of water. 

Sure, he mumbles under his breath about people who think their children should fly free as therapy animals, but in his defense, he does it quietly. And yes, he REALLY DOES TRY be tolerant when the person ahead of him in the security line asks, "Can I bring this water through here?" To which he WANTS to respond, "NOT FOR THE PAST TWENTY-TWO YEARS!"

Yes, Airport Scott can be intolerant. It's not because he wants to be; it's just that he and his family have fundamentally different perspectives when it comes to travel. My wife and two boys see it as a leisurely activity full of fun and adventure, whereas I see it as an unpleasant byproduct of doing the job I love. I am working. They are vacationing. 

Same activity. Different perspectives.

I wonder if the same might be said for music: same activity, different perspectives.

As life-long music educators, our goal is to create life-long music makers. We work at it; it's our job. Our extensive training and daily regimen ensure that we correct every wrong note and right every wrong rhythm. We focus on every musical detail and try to deliver instruction in a nuanced way. Hours are spent reviewing literature, and concepts are taught using the latest pedagogical practices. Day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year, we try to up our game and advance our ensembles.

This is our life's work, and we see it as more than a profession but our passion and purpose. There is no time to dawdle, see the sights, or consider that those we share our space and our lives with might have a different point of view.

As a teacher, more times than not, I was Airport Scott. 

There is nothing wrong with high standards and energy. Efficiency and efficacy are essential. And there is something beautiful and admirable about a well-run classroom. But, it is worth considering that people travel with different baggage and operate at different speeds. They have other destinations and are not always interested in shorter trips or non-stop flights.

Te reasons students participate in music are as varied as the students themselves. And, before you ask that question, you have to decide that whatever their answer is, it is the correct one for them. The is a place in music for those who are studious and can see themselves in music beyond high school. But, there needs to also be a place for someone with less musical aspirations or skills. A place for someone like... me.

Yes, all of your students will end up in the same place, eventually. They just might not get there at the same time or via the same route. For some, music is a calling and or profession. For others, it's a fun-filled leisurely activity.

Trust me. I know it can be frustrating traveling with those who do not share your vision, plan, or sense of purpose. But my family would tell you that it is even MORE frustrating traveling with someone who has no patience or empathy for those who do not see the airport as I do.


Take it from me, regardless of your perspective, it is better to travel with those who are different, than to travel alone. 

Have a great week, and remember to enjoy the journey.

- Scott



p.s. Yes, Airport Scott is not a lot of fun, but Martini Scott is a blast!



Coding, Music, & My Big Mouth

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I was not a "problem child" per se. I was not defiant with my parents; that was the province of my older brother, Johnny. I did not throw large and unsupervised parties; that was the specialty of my younger brother, Kevin. By all accounts and my memory, I was relatively compliant and followed most household rules. This is why I was, and will always be, my mother's favorite (suck it, Johnny and Kevin)!

That does not by any means mean I was an easy child. As I was not. I had a big mouth, lots of opinions, and a pension for sharing them. I did so even when they were not required, relevant, or even wanted. (Editor's note: I know this is shocking for all of the readers.)

I may have been imperfect and had some shortcomings. But, like most of us, as I matured, I was able to turn my deficits into our assets. This is true for me as a person and as a professional. 

What was inappropriate as a child can have a great deal of value as an adult and vice-versa.

As schools begin to re-open and things return to normal, music educators will face a host of new and familiar problems. Decreased enrollment, need for remediation, financial issues, and staffing constraints are just a few of the less than delightful conversations that music teachers and their supervisors will have. I have a convenient, concise, and easy to remember answer for all of these legitimate concerns and queries.

"(Insert name of supervisor), I understand and appreciate your concerns, but you're wrong." I mean, sure, say it in the nicest possible way. Couch it in lovely prose, but let there be no misunderstanding about the last two words. YOU'RE WRONG.

With the recent pandemic, there has been an increased import on science and technology. Even though leaders, titans of industry, and our political and financial worlds can't operate a Zoom call without incorrectly using the mute button, they love to pontificate on the importance of STEM and the belief that in a world where technology is omnipresent, children should learn to code. 

However, there's not much, if any, connection between coding and today's point-and-click environment and student success. Almost nobody in business, for example, requires much programming skill beyond, say, creating a spreadsheet. I have a couple of business and can run them pretty efficiently with a simple calculator. The underlying principle is that somehow teaching kids to code improves math and language skills.

But (say it with me now), "You're wrong."

A December 2020 study conducted at MIT found that: "Understanding computer code seems to be its own thing. It's not the same as language, and it's not the same as math and logic."

A January 2021 study conducted at the University of Zürich and published in The Journal of Neuroscience stated that "What does increase other skills and brainpower is teaching kids to play a musical instrument."

A summary of the research (which involved scanning the brains of both musicians and non-musicians) explains that: "Musicians' brains were vastly more structurally and functionally connected than non-musicians, especially in areas of the brain responsible for speech and sound (especially the auditory cortices of both hemispheres). The musical group also showed stronger connections from the auditory cortices to other brain areas in the frontal, parietal, and temporal cortex. They are known to be involved in controlling higher cognitive functions like memory, working memory, and executive functions.

This increase in brainpower and functionality remains even if the child does not continue to play the instrument. "The earlier the musicians had started with musical practice, the stronger these connectivities," says professor Simon Leipold, a co-author of the study.

In short, if you want your kids to be smarter, you're better off having them learn a musical instrument or take music education in school, rather than teaching them to code.

Anyone who believes otherwise is wrong. 

This does not make them bad people intent on hurting children; it makes them ill-informed and making short-sighted decisions.

But oftentimes, we as music educators stand compliant and silent, acting as an accomplice, allowing it to take place.

Why are we being so subservient? Why are we so compliant? Why do we allow important decisions to be made without our voices and objections being heard? Why do we allow our programs to take a back seat to less beneficial activities for kids? Why do we sit in silence while decision-makers ignore data and science?

If you want what's best for kids. 
If you want a building and campus that operates at a higher level. 
If you truly believe in science and math.
If you're going to develop the whole child and prepare them for life after academia. 

Then you have NO CHOICE but to enroll every child in the pursuit of making music.

I will say it whenever, wherever and to whomever I can. I will do so unapologetically, even when it is not required, relevant, or even wanted. 

Because that is who I was born to be. What about you?

- Scott 

My Mafia and Herd Immunity

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Editor's note: Please accept my apologies in advance as this is an unapologetic love letter to Scott's Bills brethren. He does make a semi-interesting point at the end.

Scott,

The Bills "Mafia" (which means family) is a moniker applied to the Buffalo Bills fan long-standing and loyal fan base. This is not a name bestowed upon them by the organization, which preferred the "12th man," but the Mafia would have nothing to do with it. They chose this name because it reflected what they saw in themselves: a unique, rough, and rugged band of brothers (and sisters) that thought of themselves as a family. 

Pre-game tailgating at the Bills stadium is as epic as anywhere in the NFL. Whether it's table slamming , ketchup dousing, or just sampling from one of the most outrageous tailgating set-ups you have ever seen, a game day trip to 1 Bills Drive is not something likely to be replicated anywhere else.

As you can see, the Bills Mafia are serious (and a little crazy) about their Buffalo Bills.

Keep in mind that the Mafia are not people who sit in luxury skyboxes, as the Bills Stadium doesn't have any. They do not enjoy sipping chilled drinks under the confines of a climate-controlled dome. Their beverages come pre-chilled by the coldest, snowiest, and oldest open-aired stadium in the NFL. Adding insult to injury, the Bills lack of off-field amenities is surpassed only by their lack of on-field success. And yet, there they are, showing up every week, 80,000 strong. 

This team, and their fan base, know pain, sacrifice, and suffering. These are blue-collar, hard-working people supporting their small-market team, with little to no national fan-base or the additional revenue that comes with it. 

The City of Buffalo embodies and embraces its Bills in good and bad times. And the players embrace and embody their city. Even after retiring or being traded, many Bills return to live out their days in this weather-worn but welcoming city.

On the field, the Bill's are fierce, loyal, and unflinching. Off the field, their Mafia are supportive, kind, and generous. Even towards their opponents.

In 2018, after a seventeen-year playoff drought, first-year head coach Sean McDermott led the team to the playoffs. The Bills were 9-7 and in a tie-breaking scenario. Their playoff appearance was made possible by a last-second and miraculous comeback by Andy Dalton and the Cincinnati Bengals over the Baltimore Ravens.

The fans were so appreciative of ending their seventeen-year playoff drought, the fans donated over $400,000 to Andy Dalton's charity, the majority of which came in $17 increments. Word of the unique act of gratitude made news through the NFL and across professional sports. Andy Dalton responded in kind by giving a sizable donation to Buffalo's Roswell Park Comprehensive Pediatric Cancer Center, where my brother Todd was treated from 1971-73. The act of generosity was both kind and clever but would not be singular.

When quarterback Josh Allen's grandmother passed away earlier this season, the Mafia donated over $1,000,000 to her favorite charity, the Oishei Children's Hospital in Buffalo. After that, Bills fans donated $440,000 to cornerback Josh Norman's charity, Starz 24, which helps small Buffalo businesses in need.

Just last week, after Raven's quarterback Lamar Jackson left the game with a concussion, Bills fans answered the call again by donating over $445,000 to his favorite charity, Backpacks Full of Food. The Mafia challenged the Chiefs fans to match their donation.

Like many of you, I am proud of my team and passionate about their success. But more than anything, I am amazed by the sense of community the Mafia has built and how they have actioned it for good. I appreciate how vehemently they will cheer against an opponent and how generous they will give to that same person when the game is over. They remind me that riches can come in increments of $17 and that as our nation deals with herd immunity, the Mafia rallies to help as a herd community. 

Music education is a mafia unto itself. Similar to the NFL, we are located in many locations and have different passions, but we bonded by the same cause. Whether you build an instrument, sell sheet music, fabricate reeds, teach a pre-school music class, or prepare future music educators, we all want more people to experience the benefits of making music.

Yes, we may live in different locales, teach different levels, and content areas, but we need to be reminded that after the school bell rings, the store closes, and the plants shut down, we are all rooting for the same thing, MUSIC.

The lesson learned from the Bills Mafia is one that should resonate with all of us: as our profession and country deal with herd immunity, it is vital that we also remain a herd community.

After all, our Music Education Mafia understands that the herd's word tells us that to have any national credibility, we must first be in lockstep as a community.

Thanks for indulging me. We'll be back next year. I BILLIEVE! 

Have a great week.

- Scott 
Proud Member of the Bills & Music Ed Mafia


p.s. After losing to the Kansas City Chiefs in the AFC Championship Game, at 2:00 a.m., over 1,000 fans met the team at the Buffalo Airport, where it was five degrees out.


p.p.s p.p.s. I will be hosting a webinar next week called Recruitment Roadmap. You won't believe the amount of work we have put into it and what we have built for you. This is a 30-minute webinar that you won't want to miss. In 24 hours we have already had over 600 registrations.

Today We Celebrate MUSIC!

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In just a few short hours, our country will be ushering in a new administration and our 45th peaceful transition of power. Even given recent events (the Capital riots coupled with pandemic and security restrictions), the day will still be filled with grandeur, majesty and... MUSIC!

Today is not just a political celebration, but it is a cultural one as well. Today is a day that celebrates the role that music and music education play in our cultural landscape and national history.

For the next twenty-four hours, our nation's capital will be filled with MUSIC as we welcome our nation's 46th president. The stage will feature some of our best and brightest stars including Lady Gaga, J.Lo, Demi Lavato, Bruce Springsteen, Justin Timberlake, Ant Clemons, Jon Bon Jovi, John Legend, the Foo Fighters, and my personal favorite, The President's Own.

With this momentous event comes a unique opportunity to talk with your students about music education and the vital role it has played in our history and our national culture.

What is equally noteworthy is who and what will be absent from the event.

On dais, you will not see athletes or the teams they play for. You won't see or hear from preeminent mathematicians or scholars. There will be no demonstrations of technical prowess or scientific achievement. These things are vitally important, but for today, they will be less important than MUSIC.

From your television screen, 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 the time-honored tradition of playing Hail to the Chief.

In more normal times, the music would continue on with parties, parades, and eleven separate music-filled galas. But these are not normal times. And despite the logistical challenges, on this most important of occasions, 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 bemoan the state of the arts, I say we celebrate it! But how...

As a way of honoring our profession on this very momentous day, let us seize this teachable moment to give our students a little perspective about this activity and its role in our society. 

What should we talk about? How about:

As a part of this discussion, you can point out that in our brightest and darkest hours, music can move people in meaningful ways. You can discuss how music has affected you and your life. You can point out that 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 today, perhaps we might be educators of music more so than music educators. 

Just a thought. Have a GREAT week.

- Scott

A STAND FOR SOMETHING NOBLE – A LETTER FROM ME TO YOU!

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In 1948 General Dwight D. Eisenhower released a memoir detailing his experiences as the Supreme Allied Commander in Europe during World War II. In this brutally honest biography, he accounted for the sacrifices made, lives lost, and the bitter totality of what the world had just endured. He wrote about the immeasurable sorrow he caused, justified his decisions, and took responsibility for his actions in great personal detail.

Eisenhower titled the book Crusade in Europe. He chose the title after careful and deliberate consideration in hopes that the country would see the totality of the war and not just the atrocity. In other words, he believed that hidden in the horror of Hitler's wake was some good. 

According to James Carville, Eisenhower selected the title because, "He wanted to declare to America that what they had just done—the stand they took together against evil, despite any internal divisions—was something much more elegant and profound than could be carried by the word "war." It was something noble."

Since Eisenhower's days and the parallel beginnings of public music education, we as educators have never experienced a moment so dire or requiring this much gravitas. The current Pandemic has brought sickness to our industry, infected our programs, and endangered our lives. It taxes us all mentally, emotionally, and, yes, physically.

But it is doing so much more than that.

The COVID-19 Pandemic provides our profession with an unwelcome but vital opportunity to put actions behind our words and show that our beliefs about the power of music are more than poetic rhetoric. This moment in time has given us the chance to rise up, stand together, fight a common enemy, and defeat it with unanimity. I believe that 2020 will be the time our profession remembers forever and remembers with pride. We set our differences aside, banded arm in arm, and charged towards the virtual abyss.

As we leave 2020 behind and look at 2021, there will be many who will mourn the train wreck that was the past three hundred and sixty-five days. Like Eisenhower, they will speak of the sorrow caused, lives lost, and the destruction left in the Pandemic's wake. They will be right to do so.

But will they also speak of the nobility of the moment?

If there was anything good to come from 2020, it's that among the unimaginable sacrifice, millions of students and parents stood up and said, "Music matters! And we are doing what it takes to keep it in our lives." Teachers created classrooms in their garage and learned new software while students banded together to make music in new and virtual ways.

To truly believe in something means you have to be willing to fight for it. For most of my life, I have not had to do so. Yes, I would wage the occasional battle for new instruments or a larger budget. I might even lobby for a better schedule or access to facilities. But, NEVER did I have to fight for my program's very existence. But this is where we are. And it's painfully hard.

I know it isn't easy to find hope in this remote and distant environment. As the new year dawns, we find the climate, political and otherwise, feeling dark and gloomy. You miss your students, your classroom, and your way of life. We awake to find our nation and our industry fighting the same war, with a virus, our history, and at times with ourselves. Literally and figuratively, these are dark days that re-appear time and time again like a Groundhog's Day dark comedy.

But these days are not funny and are not a movie.

I do not relish this moment. I wish it had never occurred. And as a parent, professional, and person, I have witnessed firsthand its tragic impact. But it is here, and fight for our lives we did. And there is something valiant about that. And it shouldn't be forgotten, overlooked, or undervalued.

Please know that the light is coming, and the end is near. We will soon look back at our darkest hours and see them for what they were... Our finest hour. Why?

Because we fought for something noble, we fought for music education and the children it serves. 

You are hitting it out of the park and I am so very proud of YOU!

- Scott

CARES 2, FEDERAL STIMULUS & MY MERRR

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Editors note: This email has no political intent or agenda. It is just a useful 
analogy for discussing a pathway forward.

Wife's friendly tip: Brevity is not Scott's strong suit. There is a lot to digest here. Don't be overwhelmed by it. Just process through it and use what is doable and useful. Or, do we do at home, just pretend you are interested while you think about other things, like when was the last time you flossed the dog's teeth or are your car's tires inflated to the correct pressure?

As we speak, a second stimulus bill is being debated in the halls of Congress. "CARES 2" is designed to blunt the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic, support those businesses and individuals who have been adversely impacted, and bolster our nation's economy at a critical time.

The concept of substantive federal intervention during a crisis is not new and stems from lessons learned during the Great Depression nearly one hundred years ago.

The American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 (ARRA) was the first implementation of the concept to respond to an unparalleled economic meltdown. The intervention by the federal government expenditures aimed at countering the job losses associated with the 2008 recession.

While the bill's final price tag of $787 billion pales in comparison to the $2.2 trillion spent on the 2020 CARES Act, the underlying purpose was fundamentally the same: take bold, decisive actions to dull the impact and minimize the damage.

Leading outside analysts, and a broad spectrum of politicians, agree that in times of crisis, inaction is not an option and will further the disaster's impact.
This is as true for music education as it is for our economy.

So today, in response to the current pandemic, I am announcing my stimulus bill, the Music Education Recover, Recruit, and Reinvestment Act of 2021. 

Like its 2.2 trillion dollar federal counterpart, the 2021 MERRR Act (I needed a cooler name) is designed to lessen the impact and provide relief where needed. My bill contains three distinct, sequential, and equal parts.

Recover: (December-January)

  1. Create a detailed list of the entirety of the impact on your program's musical, financial, and instructional operations.

  2. Include important data such as number of missed experiences/performances, lost instructional minutes (per student and cumulative), impacted facilities, enrollment changes, missed honor band/all-state qualifiers, staffing, parent volunteer hours, appearances at athletic & community events, community service hours, leadership opportunities, etc.

  3. Create a summative document/spreadsheet which quantifies and formalizes your loss comprehensively and understandably.

You can't begin the recovery until you know what is lost!

Recruit: (January-February)

Students are the currency of the educational process, for you and your school. Simply put, fewer students means fewer dollars,, but it also has a musical impact. More students making music can also have a very real and quantifiable impact on your school's bottom line, academic achievement, and school culture. Therefore, recruiting and retaining students should be your and your school's number one priority moving into the new year. 

  1. Create an Office of Recruitment and Retention and appoint an R&R (student) Czar. Sure, it's a little over the top, but have some fun with titles and give them a practice room as an office. Have them build a team and contact every parent, student, and friend on multiple occasions using multiple platforms about being a part of your group.

  2. Blanket social media, target non-musical best friends, re-connect with students who left years ago, stop by the study hall, visit with the counseling staff, cross-recruit with your sister music programs, start a rock band, and ask for a list of students with release periods.

  3. Have your Czar create a centralized spreadsheet where you can track and monitor every student in real-time. They will get a huge kick out of watching your group grow, literally!

  4. Don't forget to re-recruit your current students. They need some love too.

  5. AND DON'T TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER.

You are doing this for more than self-interest. There are "lost" students who need to be "found," and it is in your and your school's best interest to find them. Be sure to have your R&R team, meet with your administration and guidance department, to share what they are doing. 

Reinvestment: (February-March)

Basic economics says that a down market represents a buying opportunity. Now is the time to create a list of needed assets and make a concerted effort to address both long-term and short-term instructional and instrumentational (yes, I made that word up) needs. 

  1. Designate a Development Officer (parent) who is savvy and dependable, put together a needs assessment, and have it ready for the February-April budgeting cycle.

  2. Set a meeting with your administration team to discuss the impact and remediation steps at the campus and district levels.

  3. Communicate and collaborate with your colleagues/peers to share ideas and workload.

  4. Research local, county, state, federal, and philanthropic resources. These types of funds are readily available and easily accessible with not a lot of effort.

  5. Finally, consider that you have a section of parents who likely have not spent much money on music or education this year and would gladly step up to fill a void.

The dollars may be tight, but the funds are there for those who can make a compelling needs-based case, present a plan, and show return on investment. With just a little effort, you now have all of the resources necessary to share with anyone who can help you Recover, Recruit, and Reinvest in your program.

Now that you have relevant data, schedule a sit down with your parents, administrators, and or student leaders to digest and decide what steps you would like to take moving forward. If nothing else, than consider this a thought exercise that will impress your administration. Heck, you could event make it a class project or leadership activity as it can all be done in person or remotely.

I don't want you to feel overwhelmed. You have enough on your plate right now. I just want to provide you with an actionable and sequential plan should you choose to use it. More than anything, know that you are not alone. You have colleagues and a vast professional network to assist you. And you have us. Got a question? Something not clear? Want to scream at someone? Call me at (480) 577-5264. I will pick up, as long as it's not too early.

You should also know that my team and I are working on a solutions-based project to help you with all of this. It will likely be a multi-stage process, but our goal is to have a beta version available to share with you in January. In the meantime, gather your team and get to work creating your Recovery, Recruitment, and Reinvestment Act!

Have a great week.

-Scott

p.s. If you have not already nominated a colleague for our At Your Best When Put to the Test Award, do it now. Three lucky winners will receive a $500.00 Music & Arts gift card, with ten additional winners receiving a $50 Amazon Gift Card.