Rental-Health and the Go Home Game

There's no shortage of things to write about this week with so much happening globally. Almost immediately after hitting the send button on Wednesday mornings, I start looking for next week's topic. Given current events (pandemic, Ukraine, and the slap heard around the world), there is no shortage of things to discuss. Yet all week, I was uninspired.

Yesterday, sitting in front of a blank word doc in a writing malaise, my wife and I bounced ideas back and forth, yet I felt nothing. Then, I found this story about a man who does just that, NOTHING. 

I hope his story of doing nothing has you feeling something. 

Enjoy!

Rental-Health and the Go Home Game

For years, in Japan and South Korea, there's been a cottage industry of renting strangers to impersonate friends, family, or significant others to save face at social functions where plus-ones are expected.

One man stands above all the rest in this small, but growing, industry: Shoji Morimoto. 

Morimoto is in every way an unremarkable man. He is average height, average weight, average looking, and has a remarkably unremarkable past. He is known as Japan's "do-nothing guy."

Over the last few years, Shoji Morimoto, 38, has offered himself as a warm body who can be there, keeping people from being isolated or alone. Morimoto, nicknamed "Rental-san," is known throughout Japan; he has inspired a television series, written several books, and has drawn worldwide attention through his viral social media posts, where he has over half-million followers.

Morimoto's gigs have run the gamut and show no consistent pattern other than he fills a void. He has waited at the finish line of a marathon, sat with someone while they finished their thesis, listened to health-care workers describe the mental health toll of the pandemic, and quietly sat with divorcees who were not used to eating alone.

He will go wherever you want and be a passive spectator whenever you like. He's there for people at a significant moment in their life, who want to rewrite a traumatic memory, or experience a vulnerable moment without being alone. Shoji fills that void with no judgment, explanation, or no need to justify. 

Mr. Morimoto has a cult following and built a business by offering himself as another human who can simply be there. 

He has fulfilled roughly 4,000 inquiries and has one to two clients a day, down from three to four before the pandemic. 

Shoji's tales and wide following make me wonder how many people out there wish they had, or need, a Rental-san in their life. Someone to accompany, witness, or be there when someone doesn't want to be alone. I also wonder how many young people use our rehearsal spaces and hallways for this exact purpose. 

As a teacher, I experienced this virtually every day. I would see kids who would rather sit in my band room and do homework, read a book, or do any other host of non-musical activities, in the presence of others rather than in the solitude and privacy of their own home. Almost daily, when my work was done, I would grab my things and say, "Hey kids, let's play a game!" The 10 or 15 teenagers would respond in unison, "The go-home game!"

These students didn't use their time to practice their music or master a skill. They were not working on theory or performing service projects for the organization. They were simply there, chatting with friends or doing their homework in the presence of others.

I probably knew what they were doing in the back of my mind, but I never put a name to it. More importantly, I don't know that I took any action to see if I could help. And, if I am being candid, as an over-worked young teacher, it is possible that from time to time, I was doing the same thing, filling my late afternoons with happy music kids, rather than going home to an empty apartment. 

Although there were some regulars, they weren't always the same kids, and the times and durations of their stay varied. I had before-school rental-sans, lunch rental-sans, and after-school rental-sans. Each one had a different story and reason for being there.

But for the most part, and on most days, I was a passive spectator whose only role was to provide the space and time for the experience to occur.

We all know that most of our students will not be professional musicians, and that many young people join groups just to be in a group. Most of us actively foster this family-like feeling and encourage our students to treat our facilities as a second home. We know and put names and faces to the students who spend all of their free time roaming the halls of our facilities looking to fill their time in the presence of others. We just never knew coming out of college that this was part of our job.

Does anyone need a Rental-san? I have thirty-two years of experience. How many years do you have? 

Have a great week!

-Scott

ELMORE AND OUR SINGING HILLS

ELMORE AND OUR SINGING HILLS

High in the hills of Vermont is a little town called Elmore. Elmore is as quaint and charming as you might imagine it. Sitting on the edge of Lake Elmore, the city is a mere 14 miles north of Stowe, a popular ski destination and home to the Trapp Family Lodge. Elmore and the resort are known for their connection to the relatives portrayed in The Sound of Music.

Closer to Montreal than Boston, the less than one thousand residents enjoy a quiet and rural lifestyle that can't be found in larger cities. There are no traffic jams because there are no traffic lights and shopping is a breeze at the two-aisle town store.

If you were to drive through the center of town, you might think that you had traveled back to a different and simpler time. And it would be true, at least if you were to stop off at the town schoolhouse.

You see, the Elmore School is the last remaining one-room schoolhouse in America, and the community is fighting to keep it that way.. 

In a recent article, teacher Diane Nicholls describes her experience at the school founded in 1850, "I don't feel like I'm living in the 19th-century, but it is charming."

She further explained, "In many ways, our school is not that different from other schools. Last week, my students practiced nonfiction writing. A first-grade student wrote about chickens, while a few desks over, a third-grader wrote about her favorite animal, polar bears. Kids write and draw on paper, with iPads handy on their desks to research questions."

Yes, this quaint and charming school reminds us of a simpler time. A time without global warming, global conflict, and a time without music! Well, at least music in schools.

In a 2019 article, David Guion wrote, "The earliest documented American school instrumental music program began in 1857 at Boston's Farm and Trade School. A few other similar programs existed in the last half of the nineteenth century, but they had no standard instrumentation and offered no academic credit. 

These various ensembles of stringed and wind instruments hardly count as orchestras or bands, as they were poorly instrumented, barely instructed, ad-hoc after-school programs."

World War I, and its requisite military bands, provided visibility and viability to modern concert bands, demonstrating the value of structured music-making. Shortly after that, music programs began emerging in schools. But, only after veterans returned home from World War II and the following baby boom occurred did we see band programs explode.

Jere T. Humphreys, writing in 1989, concluded, "Although the golden age of bands was from 1870 through Sousa's death in 1932, we are now living in the golden age of school instrumental performing ensembles."

Yes, despite being at the tail end of a global pandemic and all of its mitigating strategies, we are still in the golden age of music education.

Music education is a relatively young activity. Our entire profession is only seventy-five years old; we barely qualify for Social Security! People walking around today went to schools that did not have a band or orchestra.

Most instrument manufacturers, publishers, retailers, uniform producers, and furniture manufacturers are born of the same era. When you think of more recent adjunct businesses like drill design, electronic tuners, and assessment software, you see the infancy of our profession, the immensity of our future, and the impact it will have.

Music education has been growing since the first band in 1857, and despite this minor blip in time, it will continue to grow for another one hundred and fifty years. I know this because even in the one-room Elmore School, they have general music. So, in Elmore and beyond, the hills really are alive with the sound of music.

Have a great week! 

-Scott

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Scott Lang Leadership 505 South Camellia Drive Chandler, Arizona 85225 United States

DICKEY V. AND MARCH MADNESS

I hope you enjoyed last week's webinar. I really enjoyed sharing new content with you. For those of you who could not make it, you can see a recording on our Facebook page.


It's time to put on your dancing shoes because it's that time of year. The Big Dance, a.k.a. MARCH MADNESS.

Everyone loves this time of year, as winter turns to spring, and most of us indulge ourselves in the madness that is the NCAA Tournament. What started with James Naismith and some peach baskets in 1891 has evolved into something very different in 2022. 

Whether you follow college basketball religiously or only watch the games during March, you likely have at least a cursory understanding of who's hot and who's not. You probably know a good Cinderella story and secretly hope Coach K wins one last one on his way out the door.

The crowds, the games, THE PEP BANDS! There is nothing quite like it.

You don't have to know anything about college basketball to enjoy the tourney—and even the most casual fan can enjoy the collegiate game. Behind the recruiting, practicing, and extensive training, there is still a certain innocence to college sports, including basketball. And, it's easier to believe that behind the big-time business that is college athletics, the old motto of, "anyone can win on any day," still rings true. 

Initially conceived by then Ohio State Basketball Coach Harold Olsen, the season-ending tournament and subsequent National Championship was created in 1939 and saw his Buckeyes defeated by the Ducks from the University of Oregon.

The NCAA Tournament is the crown jewel of collegiate sports, and dare I say, even more important than the college football playoffs. More teams, more cities, and more hope helps to fuel the imagination and ignite the passion of every fanbase.

March is a time to believe, dream, and hope. But not just in sports, and March is a magical time in music as well. 

Just as with their athletic counterparts, March Madness also applies to music. The hype and hysteria may not be the same, but the frenzy is. Contests are held, ratings are awarded. Auditions lead to All-State bids in which the best of the best collaborate on a stage of a different kind. 

Just like in college basketball, for music teachers, March is busy. March is non-stop. March is MADNESS.

The hardwood court is full, not with 6'10 athletes guarding the paint, but with Winter Guards battling just as fierce to defend their titles. The school musical is in flight, and you are busy recruiting next year's class just as hard as a coach might recruit his incoming class.

There is no bracket. There is no cutting of the net. There is no Dick Vitale screaming, "how do you like that baby?" But that does not make it any less important and challenging.

The grind of seven mon

ths is real. The toll that it takes on you is nothing to be ignored. But, like your athletic counterparts is finite and has an end date. You are almost there. You are advancing and winning like a champion. You will prevail.

Because you are a champion, and that's what champions do during March Madness.

Now, where's our Dickey V? We could use an, "Oh yeah, baby!"

Have a great week!

Scott





For the first time ever - the Wednesday newsletter is on Tuesday. Why? Because this is what I am going to be talking about during my webinar tonight at 7:00 p.m. EST Join me and bring a friend!

(https://guitarcenter.zoom.us/my/bepartofthemusic)

NOSTALGIA AND OUR FRIENDS.

In recent years, our world has become more tense and uncomfortable, and the future is growing ever more uncertain and unpredictable. No one knows what will happen next, but the general trend is not pointing towards a better tomorrow, next week, or next month.

It's during times like these we need Friends. Not friends like Steve, Beth, and Kelijah, but Friends like Chandler, Monica, Joey, Rachel, Ross, and Phoebe!

These are stressful times, the pandemic, war in Ukraine, rising prices, and political uncertainty are enough to send even the heartiest among us running to hide under the covers... with our iPads. It turns out that for most people, nostalgia serves as a pacifier, a hug, and a warm blanky.

It's why we're seeing so many reboots; Friends, Sopranos, Sex in the City, and Fresh Prince of Bel Air, just to name a few. And, rumor has it that Frasier, Night Court, and Beavis and Butthead are not far behind (heh heh - FIRE FIRE). 

All of this serves to remind us that what's old is new, and what's new is old. 



The love of all things old is not a new phenomenon. But, nostalgia is magnified in times of uncertainty. In an article for the New York Times, Melissa Kirsh explains that, "Nostalgia is easily packaged and sold because it promises to create a community out of a cohort. We experience this every day on social media: Strangers become momentary pals when you swap stories of the music you loved or the clothes you wore when you were both in sixth grade. The internet is an endlessly renewing nostalgia mine from which anyone can, at any time, extract a cultural gemstone — a music video from the early days of MTV, a jingle for a product long out of circulation — and post it for all to appreciate."

The word nostalgia comes from the Greek language and roughly translated means, "a longing to return home."

For the moment, nostalgia is serving a purpose. It provides a retreat, a respite, a way to feel less alone. It makes sense that some of us would seek and find comfort now in pop culture that feels homelike, that's reliably soothing and predictable, in a world where so much is not.

But it is also limiting.

As I mentioned last week (and will do a deeper dive tonight), clinging to the past means not progressing into the future. The past is comfortable and predictable, while the future is the exact opposite. The pandemic and subsequent war have us all wanting to "return to normal," but no one aspires to be normal. You don't teach normal, program normal, or aspire for kids to be normal. You teach daringly, program creatively, and aspire to greatness.

Normal is limiting. Normal is boring. But more than anything, "normal" implies the past and not the future. The Pandemic has changed us, both professionally and personally and we should learn and grow from it. 

As the word nostalgia states, we all want to return to home, but that might not mean the home of our past, but a new home. A better home. You would not want to return to a home without indoor plumbing, air conditioning or a dishwasher. You wouldn't want a home void of a TV, computer or Wi-Fi. Yes, you could return to that home, but it would not be a better home. 

Yes, we need to be nostalgic, but nostalgic for things to come. Nostalgic for what's to be. And nostalgic not for what we were, but what we will become.

Tonight, I will be presenting I Teach for Me; A New Pathway Forward. During this forty-five-minute presentation, I will guide you through a reflective process that will remind you of the best that your past offers, but inspire you about what the future has yet to bring.

Bring a beverage, something to write with, and a friend.

NO, not Friends, they can wait. 

Just a friend. 

See you tonight at 7:00 p.m. EST

- Scott

RISE AND FALL – FALL AND RISE

Mikaela Pauline Shiffrin is an epic Alpine skier. And, when I say epic, I mean EPIC! Mikaela is the most decorated American alpine skier in history, having won eleven Olympic medals with a record six of them being gold. Additionally, she is a three-time overall World Cup champion, a four-time world champion in slalom, and a six-time winner of the World Cup.

Still not impressed?

Mikaela is also the youngest Olympic slalom champion, has won 47 World Cup races, and is the first and only athlete – male or female – with wins in all six FIS Alpine Ski World Cup disciplines. Her achievements demonstrate that she is the finest American downhill skier ever. 

But, even great athletes have bad days. Recently, Mikaela had a VERY bad day.

Reporting from the BeIjing Olympics, ESPN's D'Arcy Maine said it best when she wrote, "Just two days after crashing 11 seconds into the opening run of the giant slalom race, the 26-year-old American skidded out of control and missed a gate after about 5 seconds on the second run. In short, she slipped. But slipping is a tough way to go when you've spent your life working towards a moment." 

In an interview just after falling for the second time, you see her fighting back the tears and, with a quivering voice, said, "It makes me second-guess the last 15 years, everything I thought I knew about my own skiing and slalom and racing mentality." 

If you were her best friend, what would you tell her? If you were her parent, what would you say? After four years of preparation, seeing her dreams wiped out in a mere sixteen seconds, how would you respond?

As her friend, you would likely shower her with love and remind her that one race does not define her. As her parent, you would acknowledge her pain, but tell her it does not change your love for her. As her coach, you would not speak of the mountain she is on, but the ones she has yet to climb (and come flying down).

You would be right to say these and many more things, because they are true. And they need to be heard.

You may or may not be a skier. And I seriously doubt that you have traveled down a mountain going ninety miles an hour. But you still may have more in common with Mikaela than you might think.

It won't change the hugs, high fives, or Friday night hangs that are going to happen (in and out of school). In my opinion, following the guidance would profoundly impact my sons without providing a profound benefit. The cost is far too great and the benefit far too small.

You trained for years to do a job. You likely have dedicated your life to the pursuit of it. You probably started as a child, became hooked, and decided to make it more than a hobby or sport, but a profession. You learned new ways to play, developed new techniques, and competed against the best. You are at the peak of your career and are admired by many.

And then you slipped.

You did nothing wrong. You were prepared. Just not for this. 

The volatile and unpredictable nature of the pandemic and its TWO major variants have you struggling to stay upright and run (ski) full speed ahead. There are missed rehearsals (slip), prep hours spent subbing (slip), school closures (slip), absence filled classes (slip), enrollment declines (slip), strained budgets (slip), your own absences (slip), canceled events (slip), or any number of the many obstacles that no one saw coming.

You could not have possibly been prepared for this.

For some, after a lifetime of training and development, like Mikaela, you find yourself wondering what the past fifteen years were for and if you want to keep doing this.

If this describes you, know that you're not alone.

According to an NEA (National Education Association) survey, teachers are fed up and burned out. Specifically:

  • 90% say burnout is a "serious problem."

  • 93% say schools should hire more teachers.

  • 86% say they've seen colleagues leave the profession since the start of the pandemic.

  • 55% say they want to quit teaching.

  • Burnout is also not a factor of age or experience: 56% of teachers under 50, 54% of teachers 50 and up, 50% of those with less than a decade teaching, and 57% with more than two decades teaching all say they're likely to quit sooner than they planned.

Half of America's teachers are thinking of leaving the profession. Music education had a burnout problem before the pandemic. Slipping is one thing. Slipping at ninety miles an hour magnifies the impact of the fall tenfold.

Like Mikaela, many of you go ninety miles an hour and feel like you spend more time on the powder than the podium. You are tired, disappointed, and bewildered. You are beat up and beat down, and you're not sure if you want to pick up a baton tomorrow... Or ever again.

What do we do? How do we find the will to rise and try again? How do we heal the heart, rest the body, and find the fire that once burned so brightly?

You need to be reminded that one year (or two) does not define you. And, that the quality of the performance does not change the love your students feel for you. Most importantly, let us not look to the mountain where we have fallen; let us look to the ones we have yet to climb (and come flying down).

Have a great week.

- Scott






GETTING BACK AND FINDING MY BILLY PRESTON

Forty-seven years ago, on January 30th, 1969, the Beatles went to the top of Apple Corps headquarters and played their famous last concert together. Let It Be, the album and film were ultimately released in May 1970 as a prophetic and appropriate title for what would be their final appearance as The Beatles. They announced their break-up six months later.

The now (in)famous Roof Top Concert was a project designed to return to the band's musical origins in rock and roll and their roots as boyhood friends. The band-mates agreed to meet, write, and rehearse for twenty-one days, record an album, and perform a concert—an astonishing feat for any group, much less the world's most famous band.

The band's strife was well documented by this point, and the group was on the borderline of dysfunction. Whether the differences were musical, personal, or just that the band had grown apart, it was clear that the group was struggling. On day six of the project, George Harrison quietly rose from his chair, said the words, "I'm done," and walked out of the room. Done with the project? Done with the band? Both? No one knew for sure.

After a six-day absence, George would return to Apple Records Head Quarters and the Beatles, but he did not come alone. He returned with friend and keyboardist Billy Preston.

Harrison later stated, "He got on the electric piano, and straight away there was 100 percent improvement in the vibe in the room. Having this fifth person was just enough to cut the ice we'd created among ourselves.

According to an article in Rolling Stone Magazine, Harrison said, "Billy didn't know all the politics and the games that had been going on, so in his innocence, he got stuck in and gave an extra little kick to the band. Everybody was happier to have somebody else playing, and it made what we were doing more enjoyable. We all played better, and it was a great session."

Preston's musical contribution on Let It Be speaks for itself. Lennon even lobbied to make Preston a full member of the band — an actual fifth Beatle. "It's bad enough with four!" McCartney supposedly replied. Even so, the Beatles recognized Billy's importance on the single release of "Get Back," which is credited to "The Beatles with Billy Preston." This is the first and only time the Beatles credited anyone besides themselves on their records.

The album credit (and desire to add Preston to the band) showed that no matter how talented and successful the Beatles were, they needed something, or someone, new. Someone to bring them together, eliminate the tribalism, remind them of their manners, and provide a musical spark.

We all need some Billy Preston sometimes.

The pandemic has stopped us from traveling and seeing other groups. It has stopped or changed the way we go to festivals and contests. It has limited or eliminated guest conductors and how we recruit from our feeder programs. It has isolated us physically, emotionally, and musically. We are stuck on the same island (music education), but isolated to our own tribes and growing weary, anxious, and perhaps a wee bit irritable.

Teaching music has always occurred in a vacuum. Few of us have co-directors to collaborate with, and while other curricula (band/choir/orchestra) and age levels (ES/MS/HS) are similar, they are not the same. 

We need Billy. 

We need someone to remind us to be on our best behavior. Someone who can challenge us and spark our musical and teaching skills. Someone who thinks and conducts in different ways than we do. Someone who can help us navigate the reopening and bring us back together.

Who is your Billy Preston, and when was the last time you had a cup of coffee or had them in front of your group?

I don't know about you, but lately, I have been in a bit of a funk. I have pandemic fatigue, and I know I'm not the only one. Except for a small window this past summer, I have been off the road and on an island for over two years. 

Between the Two of Us, I've Got a Feeling, and I can't Let it Be. It's time to Get Back from this Long and Winding Road. 

Where are you, Billy? I need you. 

Have a great week.

-Scott

p.s. Save the date of March 8th. I will be holding a live – virtual Patron event and would love to see you there.

p.p.s. If you have not joined the FB group, here is the link: https://fb.me/g/39FGGE4Ig/r6O66P42

p.p.p.s In researching for this article, I discovered that Billy lived about 10 miles from me before his death. Small world.


THE WALK DOWN YOUR HALF-PIPE

Beginning in Turin 16 years ago, through Vancouver, Sochi, and Pyeongchang, Sean White has dominated the sport of snowboarding in a way unfamiliar to the Winter Olympics. In the youth-centric sport of snowboarding, at the age of 35, White has already won Gold in three previous Olympics and had his eyes set on a fourth.

It did not happen. White took a tumble on his final run to finish 4th, just outside of medal contention. 

Immediately after falling, Sean stood up, paused for a brief moment as if to acknowledge what was happening, and slowly walked down the half-pipe and into the next phase of his life. 

During a long slog of interviews in which he swung from laughter to tears and back again, White said, "I'm proud of this life I've led, and what I've done in this sport, and what I've left behind."

Sean’s career provides the perfect reminder that there is so much goodness to celebrate in our past, but his decision to not finish the run and "walk the walk" reminds us of the greatness in our future.

Lately, I have been looking at my career as an act of personal growth. I've been looking back at what I've experienced and done over the past three-plus decades. But, more importantly, I have been looking forward to what has yet to come and the pathway I want to follow. I am far from done, but closer to the finish line than I am the starter's gun, and that experience provides me with the perspective and experience to do different things.

My journey has been ever-evolving: teacher, department chair, construction coordinator, Assistant Principal, Scott Lang Leadership, and Be Part of the Music. My role seems to change about every seven years, but my home of music education has remained constant. 

I suspect Sean will never leave the sport of snowboarding. It is a passion that is all-consuming and will be a part of his life story, much the way music education is for you.

Still, his journey will take him through different phases: enthusiast, rabid fan, young professional, world & Olympic champion, sport ambassador, and businessman. I don't know if even he knows what's next, just that next is here NOW!

I don't know where you are in your journey, but I suspect if you look back, you will see the different stages clearer than you can see the destination looking forward. Perhaps this blog/group is a place to brainstorm and think. A place to look for counsel and seek advice. A trusted place to dream and plan for your "next."

For the past couple of years, I knew a change was on the horizon; I just didn't know when or what it would be. The pandemic for me was what the Olympics were to Sean, a clear sign that a change was imminent if not pre-ordained. 

When asked what it all meant, his eyes were as red as his hair as he explained, "You're watching it — these younger riders. They've been on my heels every step of the way, and to see them finally surpass me is, I think deep down, what I always wanted."

It was about leaving the sport in a better place than he found it and finding joy in seeing the success of others. He realized that as his physical skills declined, his mental skills increased. He seems to understand that the scope and size of his impact are evolving to a whole new level.

Some of you are in new phases of your careers and embracing new challenges, while others are in the throws of chasing the elusive art of the perfect lessons. Either way, like Sean, you are leaving the profession and your students in a better place. Tackling new challenges, training your replacements, and celebrating their successes. When you get to that change moment (new position, job, role, responsibility) be sure to rise, pause, and walk down your half-pipe.

Have a great week.

-Scott

p.s. Interested in sharing a regret and how it has changed you. Share it in our Facebook group. If you have not joined yet, click here.

A SLICE OF ME AND THE POWER OF REGRET

Today marks the first week of the Patron version of the newsletter, and I want to take a brief minute and sincerely thank you for your support. It means the world to me. Today's newsletter is an example of how things are different. I would not likely share this with the full list as it is not relevant to music education, but I will share it in a smaller setting with people who asked for more/different content.

As I write this, I am sitting in a dermatologist's office. I am in-between procedures, which is a polite way of saying that my doctor just sawed off a chunk of skin and am waiting on the biopsy to see if they got it all.

Skin cancer.

First off, I am fine. Just going to experience some unpleasantness for the next couple of months as I work through the subsequent six procedures. Yep, six! Ugh. 

If you see someone who looks like a petite version of Frankenstein, don't be scared, it's just me.

It turns out that fifteen years of rehearsing marching band in the Arizona sun without sunscreen has consequences. And this is one of them. Who knew an Irish/German redhead with fair skin would burn in the desert? It turns out that it is everyone but me.

Nearly thirty years later, I have regrets. I regret not being more protective of my skin. I regret not encouraging my students to do the same. I regret not having the foresight and wisdom that could have prevented all of this unnecessary unpleasantness. I could have stopped this from happening, but I made the wrong choice. I regret that.

That's not the only thing I regret from my teaching days. I regret venting my frustrations on a student worker at a competition in 1994; she was just a volunteer. I regret responding to a student with anger when he approached me with anger in 1991. I should have known he was in pain and just venting. I could have, and should have, been the better person. I regret leaving the classroom in 1999 for a desk in the admin office. I ducked the initial offer call because I knew I didn't want the job deep down inside, but I took it anyway. I regret that.

I have lots of regrets. But, apparently, I'm supposed to.

According to Daniel Pink's new book, The Power of Regret, regret is a good thing: "Regret can help us become better people by revealing what we want most out of life." To help inform his argument, Pink developed a regret framework after collecting regrets from 16,000 people worldwide in the World Regret Survey.

NO REGRETS, YOLO! Pink says it's an all too common and even dangerous mantra. "Everybody has regrets, and they're a fundamental part of our lives. And if we reckon with them in fresh and imaginative ways, we can enlist our regrets to make smarter decisions, perform better at work and school, and deepen our sense of meaning and purpose," says Pink.

His theory is that past regrets inform future decisions and that wisdom is derived from our mistakes. Lack of regret implies a lack of understanding and knowledge.

According to Daniel, regrets are categorized in four distinctly different areas: stability, boldness, morality and, connection.

What regrets do you have? And, how have they changed the person you are today?

We all likely have regrets in all four areas. I know I do. But I also know that I can't change them, and they have helped shape the person, husband, father and teacher I am today.

Pink says, "It's tempting never to look back, but we're hard-wired to focus on our mistakes. Rather than deny them, we can lift ourselves up by seeing them in a new light."

My regrettable experience with the sun has informed how I teach my son. My regrettable experience with a student in 1991 changed how I treat students in 2022. And, regrettable experience in administration changed how I see music education.

We are all a summation of our experiences, and to change the regrets of our past is to change the path to our future.

I do not regret my past decisions, nor do I celebrate them. I accept them (and myself) for what they are, a small slice of who I am.

Speaking of slice, the doc just walked in, got more cutting to do, so I have to go.

Have a great week.

-Scott

p.s. Interested in sharing a regret and how it has changed you. Share it in our Facebook group.

ALBERT, INTEREST, AND YOUR LIFE YIELD, PART 2

Yesterday, I explained the math of compounding interest. Yes, it was a cursory explanation, but it demonstrates the need to consider investing from a TIME IN versus TIMING perspective.

As you get older, you look forward to retirement and reflect on the impact of your career. And while I have young-ish children that will keep me working for a while, the pandemic and its effects (personal/professional/financial) have me thinking about these things and more.

I know that now, I look very different at how I invest my resources than I did three decades ago. Not just my money, but my time and energy. It's easy in hindsight to see where I invested and how I got it wrong and right. But, generally speaking, the law of compounding interest has held true.

Start early, start small, stay long. 

This is as true for money as it is for people.

Most of us know the immediate impact we have on our students. Unlike other curricula, we see evidence of it almost daily for multiple years. We experience it in rehearsals, on the stage, and in their lives. Even after graduation, the occasional Facebook post, drop-by, chance encounter in groceries stores, and the like are opportunities for parents and students to share gratitude and thoughts on the impact you had on them.

But what about after that?

Over the past week, I have been thinking about how that impact has grown, diminished, or changed with passage of time. What would former students say about their experiences with me now, and how would it differ when compared to what they said to me on graduation night.

Think about it, the students who were seniors during my first year of teaching would now be 50 years old. They are now community leaders, business owners, spouses, and possibly grandparents. They will have experienced success and loss, some joy and sorrow as they will have half-century of life behind them and possibly another half in front of them. 

Perhaps they are seeing the benefits of music through their very own children and reliving their experiences through the younger version of themselves. What would they say about the impact of music and my teaching now? And, how would it be different from what they told me on three-plus decades ago? What would the 50-year-old know about how music shaped them and prepared them for life that the eighteen-year-old didn't?

Compounding interest compels us to start early, start small, and stay long. 

Sure, I may have convinced a student to audition for a leadership role or not to quit band, but would I see the impact of that thirty-three years later? Could I know that leadership training inspired them to push harder, resulting in better grades? And that better grades would propel them to a better college, where they would train for a successful future and meet their spouse? Would I be able to know that they would push their children in music and the impact that it would have on their children and their family?

Today, three decades later, that small investment I made in my 401K as a first-year teacher is worth 10X what I originally invested. Could the same thing be said of some small investment I made in a child thirty-two years ago? Have my investment in mutual funds out-performed my investment in students? I will likely never know. But, I wonder.

And that better grades would propel them to a better college, where they would train for a successful future and meet their spouse? Would I be able to know that they would push their children in music and the impact that it would have on their children and their family?

Conversely, what would I see if I witnessed the potential impact had I not convinced them to stay in music (I'm thinking Scrooge and Christmas past)? In short, how can I know the totality of the effects, good or bad, throughout their life?

I have seen this effect with my children. How one small act of kindness at band camp calmed a frightened thirteen-year-old and helped him make it through a couple of rough days. And how that small act got him through the week, and led to a successful season and wanting to sign up for band again.

The interest shown early, over something small, over a long period of time, compounds into something infinitely more valuable and can be life-changing.

Einstein knew WHAT he was talking about when he said, "compounding interest is the eighth wonder of the world." I just don't think he knew WHO he was talking about.

Today, start with someone new, do something small, and dream of the impact over the long haul because we know that your interest will only compound over time.

And it doesn't take a genius to figure that out!

-Scott

ALBERT, INTEREST, AND YOUR LIFE YIELD, PART 1

My first principal was a sage man who, after hiring me, encouraged me to max out my 401k from the start. He said, if I never had the money to begin with, I would never miss it and I would retire a rich man. 

Being an educated and relatively financially savvy person, I immediately followed his advice. Being a drummer, I only followed part of it. I did not max out the contribution, and I regret it to this day.

Dumb move!

What's the difference between worry-free retirement and pinching pennies? The answer is simple, compounding interest.

Thought to have originated in 17th-century Italy, compound interest can be thought of as "interest on interest." It will make a sum grow faster than simple interest, which is calculated only on the principal amount.

Albert Einstein is credited as stating that compound interest is the world's eighth wonder, and while the recent volatility of the market has me nervous, Albert assures me that if I stay the course, in the long run, I will be 401 OK!

Compounding interest teaches us that the key to amassing wealth is not TIMING the market (buy-low, sell-high), but TIME IN the market. In other words, start early, start small, and stay long. 

I have always understood what compounding interest was, but it wasn't until I was in my forties did I fully realize the immenseness of it and impact it could have in my life and retirement.

To help you see the power of compounding interest in action, here's the story of Jack and Blake —two guys who got serious about investing for retirement. They picked good, growth stock mutual funds that average an annual return of about 11.6%—just under the long-term growth rate of the S&P 500.

graphic and example courtesy of Ramsey Publications

Jack

  • Starts investing at age 21

  • Invests $2,400 every year

  • Stops contributing money at age 30

  • Total amount contributed: $21,600

Blake

  • Starts investing at age 30

  • Invests $2,400 every year

  • Contributes money until age 67 (a total of 37 years!)

  • Total amount contributed: $91,200

At age 67, Jack’s investment has grown to $2,547,150, and Blake’s has grown to $1,483,033! Nine years made a difference of over one million dollars.

How does a $21,000 investment become worth $2.6 million while an investment of five times more yields 44% less money? COMPOUNDING INTEREST!

Properly invested, money traditionally doubles every seven years. By waiting an additional seven years, Arthur misses one and a half cycles of his money doubling, which is trivial at age 36, but is significant at retirement age.

The true yield from investing doesn't come from the amount you invest, but the length of time you allow it to grow. Again, start early, invest small, and stay long.

See your earning potential between now and your retirement. It's both fun and scary.

PROJECT YOUR RETIREMENT

I did not know this when I was 21. I could have spared $2,000 a year (and enjoyed the tax benefit) from my first decade of teaching. I had no kids, no wife, and not much of a social life. Let's be real, I was working all the time, didn't buy expensive things and had a roommate to share rent and expenses with. 

I could have been Jack. Heck, I could have been more than Jack. But, back then I didn't know jack about being like Jack!

Dumb!

I wish I had been more forward-thinking. I wish I had planned better. I wish I understood that my actions at twenty-three would have would have a significant impact not just in my life, but in my wife and children's as well.

DUMB!

Einstein was right when he said compounding interest is the world's eighth wonder. And, it's as true for you as it is for your students, but not in the way you might think. Curious about how? I will explain tomorrow. Why?

Because I want to let your interest compound overnight (see what I did there).

Until then, have a great Wednesday!

-Scott