Boys 2 Men and Being Held Back.

It has been a long-accepted notion that, as a general rule, girls mature faster and earlier than boys. As the proud father of two knuckleheaded boys, I can provide a laundry list of anecdotal and empirical data to validate this. 

An article in The Atlantic Magazine looks at this idea. Redshirt the Boys: Why boys should start school a year later than girls, author Richard V. Reeves writes, "The idea of a delayed school start—often referred to as "redshirting," a term borrowed from athletics—got a burst of attention in 2008, when Malcolm Gladwell presented evidence in his book Outliers that children older than their classmates do better on academic tests and in life generally. The value of a later start, which many educators call "the gift of time," is an open secret in elite circles." 

This delay in starting school is most commonly used with boys, as the disparity in development and the benefits of additional time are evident to parents and teachers. In fact, a Rand survey showed that teachers are three times more likely to delay entry for their sons than their daughters.


The article further states, "The maturity gap is now demonstrated conclusively by neuroscience: Brain development follows a different trajectory for boys than it does for girls. But this fact is entirely ignored in broader education policy, even as boys fall further behind girls in the classroom."


And it's not just in the classroom. 

My youngest son is a pretty good athlete. He recently went out for his junior high school football team—seventy-seven kids vying for twenty spots.

I went to watch the last day of tryouts, and I was stunned by the sheer disparity in the physical size of the boys. Some of the boys were not only a year older, but had gone through puberty and were closer to being men than boys. I thought, "How can my son compete with someone who is a year older and has a demonstrable physical advantage that creates an unlevel playing field?" 

So, we know the maturity gap impacts cognitive and physical development, but what about music? Specifically:

  • How do delayed motor and cognitive development impact the music-making process?

  • Does lack of physical development and dexterity make playing an instrument more difficult?

  • Are boys less musically mature than girls? Are they able to understand phrases and attach emotion to making music at the same level as girls?

  • When does the music achievement gap close (if ever)?

  • Would boys benefit from starting the music-making process a year later than girls?

  • Or, would having boys start a year earlier/later level the playing field?

Additionally, and perhaps even more critical, is the impact of puberty, both cognitively and physically. Girls typically start puberty a full two years before boys. TWO YEARS! How does that change the way kids learn and create music?

Tomorrow night, I will attend my son's first middle school band concert. The father in me will sit there and be a proud father. The teacher in me will be in awe of how his band director corralled seventy 7th graders and put together a concert in eight weeks. But the advocate in me will wonder, is there a similar but less apparent musical disparity between the boys and girls on stage?

In short, are we hurting boys by not recognizing these differences and teaching accordingly? And, are we holding girls back by placing them with boys who might not process information in the same way or speed as they do?

Should we separate our ensembles not on ability or instrumentation, but by maturity? And if we did, how would that impact not just the music, but our student retention rate?

I know that not every child matures at the same rate, and every person is different. I'm just saying, I just finished arguing with my son about how Vans don't qualify as dress shoes, and joggers, albeit black, not being dress pants.

I doubt my friends with girls are having the same argument. 

Scott



Divided We Fall and Being Different Than Me 


Our nation's academic achievement scores (NAEP)were released this past Thursday, and the results were not good. The scores are the first real empirical evidence of the impact of the pandemic.

The tests were administered nationwide during the first quarter of 2020 and 2022 and showed reading scores plunging to their lowest levels since 1990 — and math scores dropping for the first time in history, dating back to the 1970s. 

Daniel McGrath from the United States Department of Education stated, "Students in 2022 are performing at a level last seen two decades ago. These are some of the largest declines we have observed in a single assessment cycle in 50 years."

The greatest decline in learning outcomes among lower achieving students was even more concerning. Higher performing students — those in the 90th percentile — only showed a three percentage point drop in math scores, compared with under-performing students — those in the 10th percentile — experiencing a 12-point drop. Math scores for Black students fell 13 points, compared to a 5-point decrease among white students.


Plummeting test scores and a widening socio-economic and ethnic achievement gap? Like I said, not good.


I am sure that somewhere in the land of music education, there is someone who teaches like me or speaks like me. Someone who infuses leadership lessons into their classrooms, and enjoys a bit of levity. I know others faced similar struggles and achieved similar results. 


As I said, music and academia are in lockstep in some ways, but in others, we differ significantly.


The similarities between music and the rest of academia are striking. The achievement/skill mastery has declined significantly, with students in underserved or remote areas more significantly than those in high-performing suburban regions. Not just in achievement, but in enrollment as well. 

We see students for multiple years, which means we experience the impact for multiple years. Furthering the pain, in music, we often utilize peer-to-peer modeling to help teach and guide other students. In that sense, we are not only experiencing learning loss, but leader loss as well.

Last year, you likely had many students who struggled due to lost instructional time. The younger ones may have only played in person for six months before the pandemic hit and struggled to regain their lost skills. Fortunately, you likely had older students who had played for many years before the pandemic and returned to form in no time.

Now it's a new year, and it should get better, right? Not necessarily, as you now likely have TWO highly impacted classes and only ONE class to model and help move the group forward—double the number of affected students, half the number of leaders to help. 

Next year could be even tougher for high school teachers, as your program will likely contain 100% impacted students!

Why do I share this? So that if you are feeling the added weight and drag, know that it isn't you, and you're not alone. 

Maybe this is not your experience. Perhaps you and your program are humming along at top speed with no added drag.

But, I can imagine myself back in a classroom, frustrated and confused, feeling like I am stuck in neutral while everyone else is moving forward. I know I would benefit from someone reminding me to invest in the fundamentals (musical and leadership) and focus on growth, not achievement. I would need to structure this in a way that would require me to invest real rehearsal time to ensure future success (timed warm-up, leadership lesson Monday, etc.). And I would want an occasional reminder that the rating, score, or grade level of music does not necessarily reflect the quality of the instruction. 

I would need this because I know me! I would run before I walked, push too hard, and leap before looking. I would pick too much music that is too difficult. Thinking it would solve the problem, I would spend too much time on the music and not enough on fundamentals and be frustrated with myself after every failed rehearsal.

You wouldn't make those mistakes. You wouldn't be that hard on yourself. You would understand that student success is all that matters, no matter where and how it is achieved. You would be able to disassociate your measure of self-worth from a score or trophy. You would clearly understand that more (drill/music/concerts/etc.) is not better; getting better is better. And, as long as your groups improve, you are killing it. Finally, you would understand that while these are among the most challenging years of your career, they are also among the best, because you are having a REAL impact, and are making a REAL difference. 

Of course, you would know all that and more because you aren't like me. 

I just thought I would share in case you are.

Have a great Wednesday, Patrons. 

Scott

Teens vs. Toddlers and Killing Time 

Hey Patrons:

This past weekend, I was chatting with a friend with several young children. He asked me what the difference was between parenting toddlers versus teens. I told him, "Parenting toddlers is physically draining; parenting teens is emotionally draining."

Like every parent of a teenager, I worry. I worry about how he is doing academically, socially, and emotionally. I worry about him making smart choices. I worry about who he hangs out with and what choices they make. I worry about what he watches and see online. I even have an app that tells me where he goes and how fast he drives. Yep - I worry.

But, my worries are justified.

Rates of alcohol, drug, and tobacco use among teenagers are concerning, and the impact of fentanyl alone will scare the living bejeesus out of you. 


Yea, binge-watching Breaking Bad, Ozark, and Better Call Saul, aren't helping things, but holy smokes, it's scary out there.


According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, "about one-third of high schoolers consumed alcohol in the last month, and 18 percent had five or more drinks when they did so. One in five had used marijuana in the past month, and more than 5 percent had used cocaine or hallucinogenic drugs. Just over 10 percent of high schoolers smoke cigarettes."


A pair of Washington State University professors think they know the answer to dealing with teens making bad choices, increased academic rigor, and accountability. More math, more science.


Professors Zhuang Hao and Benjamin Cowan examined the number of math and science courses required for a high school diploma and the relationship to risky behavior among high school students. Their data spanned from 1993 to 2011 and included over 100,000 students across 47 states.

According to the study, these increases in state math and science high school graduation requirements reduced alcohol consumption without any offsetting increase in marijuana or cigarette use. More demanding academic standards decreased the number of days teenagers drank and the rate at which they engaged in binge drinking (defined as more than five drinks at a time).

The study doesn't explain why greater graduation requirements might reduce risky behavior, but the authors offer two hypotheses. First, greater demands at school take more time: longer hours doing homework and studying. Students who spend more time on schoolwork have less time to do other things.

(Ok - I have had you endure this long enough, so let me rip the band-aid off.)

WWWEELLLL DDUUUUUHHHHH! (Sorry my inner 7th grader just came out)

Seriously? You needed eighteen years, and not one, but TWO college professors to figure that one out? Well, that should make the list of dumbest studies ever. 

Let's review these revolutionary findings.

  • Kids who spend more time studying have less time to make bad choices.

  • Kids more invested in academics are less likely to act in a way that jeopardizes their standing.

  • Kids who are surrounded by other good kids tend to perform better academically.

  • Kids who attend academically challenging schools/and are more successful.

I didn't need a multi-decade study to know that. I know that - because that is what we do every day in our music classes.

  • Music places students in an environment of accountability.

  • Music increases the rigor and demand every year.

  • Music requires far more out-of-school time than math, leaving them less vulnerable.

  • Music surrounds kids with other invested students and families.

  • Music places them in events that push them to be better than their sister schools.

The question is not does increased rigor/demand make kids better; the question is, where are the rigor and demand the highest?

The answer? Music!

Physical, cognitive, emotional, tactile, etc. It's all there! It is the complete package of rigor and demand. I don't understand why people can't see this.

I propose a study. I want to take 10,000 highly performing/successful students and compare their class schedules. Let's look at their non-required courses and see if these students have anything in common.

My study doesn't aim to find out what makes kids great; it seeks to find out where it is happening.

That's a study worth reading. 

Have a great week Cuppers. 

Scott 

An Island Unto Yourself, Wilson, and Your Doppelganger 


When you hear the word Doppelganger, you think of someone who has a strong resemblance to someone else, almost to the point they look like a twin.

There is growing evidence that despite the fact that almost everyone has a Doppleganger, and that they might even share some similar DNA structure, they are not the same person.

According to a recent study in Journal Cell, Dr. Manel Esteller, a researcher in Barcelona, Spain, said, "We were able to see that these look-alike humans share several genetic variants that may explain the similar physical and facial features. But that does not necessarily mean they will behave the same."

Doppelgangers look similar, but are not actually the same. (This is important moving forward.)

The author further states that Doppelgangers likely have always existed, but genetic testing and the internet have made them easier to find and identify.


The study makes me wonder about my Doppelganger. 
Not my personal one, my professional one. 


I am sure that somewhere in the land of music education, there is someone who teaches like me or speaks like me. Someone who infuses leadership lessons into their classrooms, and enjoys a bit of levity. I know others faced similar struggles and achieved similar results. 


I am not unique in that way. I am certain that I have Doppelgangers, perhaps many of them. But, I am not them, and they are not me.


Most music programs look the same to the untrained eye of the parent, administrator, or even adjudicator. But, if you are trained, and know what to look for, the differences are as apparent as they are significant. 

So while everyone else sees a sea of Doppelgangers, we can feel isolated, alone - and an island unto ourselves.

WIILLLLLSSSSOOOONNNNN!

Yes, from the outside looking in, your program may look similar to others, but it is not.

Yes, we all deal with similar issues (funding, access, facilities, engagement, enrollment, parent support, etc.) We all struggle with underachieving students and the impacts of the widening socio-economic gap. But as much as we deal with the same issues, we deal with them differently. Ways only you can handle, serving children on you understand.

It's only natural to compare yourself to other teachers or programs, and it's understandable to question or doubt yourself. It's a natural and unintended consequence of being in the performing arts. Just know that you are seeing them, just as they see you, as a Doppelganger.

You may not be the only version of yourself. On some days, you may not even be the best version. But, you are THIS version of yourself. And that is enough!

Yes, you likely have a Doppelganger, personal and professional. And yes, they may appear to be very similar to you in some ways. But, to me, that is not a Doppelganger; that is an imposter. And your students need the real thing! 

Have a great week.

Scott

ELIUD KIPCHOGE AND MY MILESTONE - PART 2

As I mentioned yesterday, for the past couple of weeks, the impending double "fives" has had me thinking about "what's next." I've been thinking about this for a while, but Eliud Kipchoge helped clarify what was bouncing around my head. 

What is my 1:59:59? 

Where is my next mountain to climb, or goal to achieve? What task or obstacle is so uniquely suited to my skill sets and life experiences that I can help move the needle in a meaningful way? What is the problem I see differently because of my vantage point? What thoughts keep me up at night and then consumes my days?

I catch brief glimpses of it (my 1:59:59) as I work, think, and write, but don't yet fully understand it. I see its parts, but don't know how to put them together, or what the completed picture will look like. So there I sit, grasping to find it, desperately reaching for it, and failing to put it all together. 

I don't entirely know what it is, but I know what it's not.


It's NOT a world record, or any record at all. It's NOT even a number or milestone. It's not that concrete. And let's be honest, at 55, I am not likely to challenge the limits of human endurance and physical achievement. It's NOT challenging something that already exists. It's creating something that doesn't. It's NOT something I can do alone. It will require others, which means it's NOT about me, but about US.


As I said, I know what it's NOT. But I also know a little bit about what it IS.

It IS rooted in music education. I am sure of that. It IS grounded in advocacy and IS aimed to provide a voice for teachers who are overwhelmed and overworked. It IS wanting to provide a common understanding and language around what music IS and does for young people. It IS trying to show people that in order to fix what is wrong and broken, we should start with what's right and working; MUSIC. It IS rooted in truth and fact, but shared with zeal and enthusiasm that IS both righteous and unapologetic. 

I know what it's NOT. I know a bit about what it IS. But Elian shows us that the why is just as important? 

“People ask me why I run. It is for life and to inspire the younger generation to love sport and live a happy and full life. I can't imagine a life without running.”

As I mentioned yesterday, I am a runner, and distance is my thing. But, I am no Eliud Kipchoge. But we may be similar in some other ways. We share a WHY.

People ask me (Scott) why I teach music. It is for life and to inspire the next generation to love music and lead a happy and full life. I can't imagine a life without music.

Maybe we're not that different after all.

I want people to see music the way I do, as the single greatest transformational activity in our schools today.

The how is a bit more complicated and where I can't connect all of the pieces.

  • I want everyone in our industry to understand that we are concerned/threatened by the same issues, and need to fight them with a cohesive and combined effort.

  • I want people to understand that while we are (understandably) fractured by time, space, curricula, and levels, we must speak as one.

  • I want everyone to know that as teachers, administrators, manufacturers, marketers, composers, and publishers, our metrics for success may be different, but our end goal is the same; kids in chairs making music.

  • I want us to be unapologetic in stating that music us not a byproduct or elective and is not scheduled to make other adults lives more convenient.

  • I want people to understand the value proposition of what we do, instead of fundraising to do it.

  • I want the world to know that while we have the same amount of time to teach, we teach more things, to more children, that have more life use than anyone understands.

I WANT MUSIC ACCESSIBLE TO EVERY CHILD EVERY DAY! That is my 1:59:59!


I want to do this for, me, and for you. You don't have the time, energy, or resources. You are overworked, undervalued, and underfunded. You are doing the real work. You are the one running the marathon. You are Eliud Kipchoge!


I do this at 55 because I couldn't do this at 25. I was too attention-seeking, selfish, inexperienced, and immature. These 55 years of roaming, growing, failing, watching, listening, and experiencing were all part of the preparation process. A marathon must be trained for, and this is my marathon. I have trained for this moment for over thirty years.

I know what it is NOT. I know mostly what it IS. I know my WHY. Now I need to know the WHO.

Eliud Kipchoge may be the only record-holder, but he did not race alone. He had a large team and support system; trainers, nutritionists, pacers, scientists, doctors, and more. He may be the one have crossed the finish is solitude, but if you watch the documentary, until the final 100 yards, he was NEVER alone. Not in life, not is his belief. Every member of his team BELIEVED that they would achieve it, and they did.

Remember what Eliud said, "To do something, YOU have to believe that you can."

You are the one running the marathon each and every day. My 1:59:59 is to make your marathon easier.

I believe that WE can. What about you? Do YOU believe?

Yesterday, I told you I would ask for a birthday present. I would love it if you would send me a selfie with your poster and your 1:59:59. Email me, text me (480) 577-5264DM/FB me. It does not matter what your 1:59:59 is, I just want to know we are in the same race and not alone.

In the meantime, have a great day.

- Scott

ELIUD KIPCHOGE AND MY MILESTONE - PART 1

Eliud Kipchoge is the uncontested king of the marathon. He has no equal, either in real-time or in history. His skill set is so far separated from the rest of the pack that his only competitor is himself, and a record considered the Holy Grail of long-distance running: the two-hour marathon. On par with the four-minute mile, this feat was once considered unachievable by a human athlete. 

I say "was" because Eliud recently broke the record by completing a marathon in 1:59:49.

For those of you who are not runners, let me give you a bit of perspective. Remember Roger Bannister and the four minute mile? Well, Eliud ran a 4:34 pace per mile - for 26.2 miles! As a further frame of reference, people who "run for their lives," typically run 12 miles an hour. Eliud was ran at 15 mph, FOR TWO FULL HOURS!

Kipchoge: The Last Milestone is a documentary that chronicles Kipchoge's second attempt to complete a marathon in under two hours. Directed and produced by acclaimed filmmaker Ridley Scott, The Last Milestone shows Eliud not only to be a world-class athlete, but a world-class mind as well.

When he broke the two-hour barrier, Kipchoge wasn't competing against other runners; he was competing against history and the perception of what a human being can do. To accomplish that, he had to train his mind as much as he did his body. Train to acknowledge, understand, and endure unthinkable agony for hours. Eliud stated, "Mental strength plays a huge role in running marathons or competing in any other sport. Where there is pain, there is success."

Through accented English, Kipchoge makes it clear that he doesn't believe in human limitations, and if he did, he could not have broken the record: "Life is hard. Running is hard. Both are filled with ups and downs. I'm trying all my best to throw away the terminology of giving up. Everyone needs to believe in their own ability." 

Reread it.

"Everyone needs to believe in their own ability!"

Eliud's mind is as strong as his body. He is singularly focused and unrelenting. He knows what he wants and what it will take to get there. He is willing to endure pain and understands it is required for gain. Above all, he has the unflinching belief that HE WILL GET THERE.

Then there is me. I fancy myself a bit of a runner, and distance is my thing. I even mentioned in a recent e-zine that completing a marathon is on my bucket list. Even if I were to achieve it, I am no Eliud Kipchoge.

Today is August 24th, and it happens to be my 55th birthday. I do not feel 55 and don't think I look 55 (maybe 52 or 53), but the calendar and Father Time are pretty clear on how long I have been walking around this planet, even if I am reticent to accept it. 

I share this NOT to receive well wishes or celebratory notes (please don't, I am going to ask for something else), but because the passing of another year puts me in a place of contemplation. So I sit here, 55 years old, deep in thought. Not in reflection, but in ideating. Not looking back, but gazing forward and asking myself one seemingly simple but confounding question:

What is my 1 hour: 59 minutes: 59 seconds? What is the Holy Grail that I am chasing?

More importantly, what is yours? 


I'm 55 and have been in music education for thirty-two years. How did this happen? I still feel like a first year teacher trying to get his oboes to play in tune. I should know more by now. I should be better at this by now. Can someone please show me how to get an oboe to play in tune?

Some of you may already know what it is, while others may need time and space to process.

We all need a 1:59:59. It can be personal or professional, short or long term, big or small. It may be physical or something you can achieve within your mind and spirit. It can be solitary and singular, like climbing a mountain, or done in tandem and as part of a team, like raising a child. Either way, it is there to challenge, motivate, confound, and inspire you. 

If you would humor this birthday boy, perhaps you could take the rest of today and think on that question. Let it roll around in your mind and your soul a bit. Ruminate, ideate, or just quietly contemplate. If you are so inclined share with a colleague or discuss with a class. But, let it sit for a bit. 

To help get your creative juices going, and not let the busy day take you away from your thoughts, I am attaching a picture/poster for you to download, print, and hang in your office for the next twenty-four hours. 

DOWNLOAD POSTER

So for the next twenty-four hours, ask yourself the question, "What is my 1:59:59?"

I will return tomorrow with my answer and ask for yours. In the meantime, remember the words of Eliud Kipchoge, "In order to achieve something, you must first believe that you can."

Wise words Eliud.

Don't wait, download the poster and hang it in your office right now. I will be back tomorrow to tell you what to do with it.

In the meantime, have a great day.

- Scott

MUSICA UNIVERSALIS AND MY THEORY GRADES 

The relationship between music and math is well established and is universally accepted by musicologists and mathematicians alike. Rooted in facts and figures, their relationship explains not only the mathematical principles associated with pitch and harmony, but why my College Algebra and Music Theory grades are so strikingly similar. 

And not in a good way.

More than a drive-by date, these two have been locked into a serious relationship since the beginning of time. In the book Music by the Numbers: From Pythagoras to Schoenberg, author Eli Maor states, "In Greek tradition, music ranked equal in status to arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy, which together comprised the quadrivium, the core curriculum of four disciplines that a learned person was expected to master." Music and math were not only hand-in-hand, but on equal footing.

Though none of Pythagoras's original writings remain, his legacy of thought does. His philosophy of "numbers rule the universe" has became a rallying cry for generations of scientists and philosophers who share his view of the cosmos as being based on musical ratios or simple, elegant geometric figures. It was all part of Pythagoras's grand view of a universe ruled by beauty and harmony – known as musica universalis.


Pythagoras believed music to be universal and in all things. 
Even in the planet Earth.


Musica universalis is the belief that mathematical relationships express qualities or "tones" of energy that manifest in numbers, angles, shapes, and sounds. Just as a pitch has a numeric frequency, Pythagoras believed that numbers emitted an energy of sound.

Crazy, right?

Pythagoras was the first to observe that the "pitch of a musical note is in inverse proportion to the length of the string that produces it, and that intervals between harmonious sound frequencies form simple numerical ratios." Pythagoras also proposed that the Sun, moon, and planets emit a "unique hum based on their orbital revolution, and that the quality of life on Earth reflects the tenor of celestial sounds it emits." 

In other words, our planet is musical and responds to its inhabitant musicians. As long as we walk this planet, we can't escape its hum.

The Earth is humming? DOUBLE CRAZY, RIGHT?! I wonder what key we are in?


Music is numbers. 
But, remember, according to Pythagoras, 
numbers are music.


As music educators, this shouldn't come as a complete surprise. We live in a world of numbers. Numbers are how we staff our classes, chart our drill, determine instrumentation, and seat our ensembles. We even split our days into mathematically equal blocks of time called classes. Whether it's music or music education, everywhere you look, it's numbers, numbers, NUMBERS! (Marsha, Marsha, MARSHA!)

Musica universalists believe that everything emits music, even numbers and problems. Music that the ear can't hear, but the soul can. And it's not just in ancient times people believed that. 

Schoenberg and Einstein, were also believers. They were contemporaries born within five years of each other to middle-class Jewish families. They were both self-educated and started their careers as low-level employees – Schoenberg as a bank clerk in Vienna, and Einstein as a clerk at the Swiss Patent Office in Bern. Their mothers, both named Pauline, were steeped in classical music, so the two youngsters were raised in music-loving homes.

Schoenberg and Einstein espoused the relationship between math and music, with Schoenberg famously creating the twelve-tone row and Einstein stating, "I see my life in terms of music."

We want our students to learn math and science, and we require it from every student in the country. I believe and agree with that. But, I wonder if while talking about their science and math, we could also talk about their music when explaining. Not only would it make Pythagorean's Theorem more interesting, but also make Einstein's theory of relativity, more relative (see what I did there).

Pythagoras, Schoenberg, and Einstein. Pretty smart fellas I'd say. 

Perhaps we should listen to what they have to say. Music is math; math is music. But what do I know? I'm not good at either. 

At least now I know why! 

Have a great week everyone!

- Scott

IMPROVING ON IMPROV'ING

A recent article in The Washington Postposed the following question:

"How does a freestyle rapper rhyme without rehearsal? How does a jazz improviser shape an instant solo? How do improv comedians wing it under pressure?" 

The answer: we don't really know.

Creativity is among the least understood parts of the cognition process. We don't know how it works, but we do know that it's innate and resides within every brain.

The authors studied a rapper, a jazz pianist, and a comedic improv duo to learn more about improvisation and how it worked in the brains. What they discovered was fascinating.


Despite their different idioms (music/acting/rapping), it turns out that riffing, rapping, and role-playing all involve the same core functions: responding to unknown elements in a pre-determined script in real-time. 


To learn more about the science of extemporization, Charles Limb of the University of California at San Francisco studied their brains while performing.

The brain scans showed a functional change in neural networks during improvisational activities. Limb noticed that improving bypassed the conscious-control portions of the brain, which regulate behavior. In other words, it removed judgment about the improv. 


When I taught, I had a pretty good jazz band. Why good and not GREAT? Because I didn't know how to teach improv. Yes, I had some kids that were good at it, but it had nothing to do with me. 


Why?

I understand the concepts. 
I have musical training. 
I understand style. 
I have experience.

I just felt silly, self-conscious, and dumb.

It turns out that's where my problem lies.

The article states, "[It] springs from a stream of consciousness, unleashed by a state of mental looseness. Distractions fall away; doubts disappear. Time seems to vanish. It's about opening up, loosening mental controls and saying "yes" instead of "no" to create something meaningful." More than anything, it's about bravely putting yourself out there and being unafraid to make a mistake. As comedian Steven Colbert learned from his Second City director: "Learn to love the bomb." Failure will happen, so embrace it, then dive in again.

Learn from the fail. Love the fail. And then dive in again.

As music teachers, we want to fix every problem and right every wrong. We want every note right and played at the right time. We have high expectations and want nothing short of perfection. In short, we don't love failure; we try and eliminate it.

I want my ensembles to sound good. I want my students to benefit from high-quality instruction. I want them to grow and stretch themselves. I want them to benefit from my knowledge and experience success. That's how I taught.

They will remember your humanity. Your willingness to be vulnerable and open. To share not just what you know, but how you feel. They will remember that you created a safe space, and a caring community, who will love and care about them, even if they fail. that's not what my students remember, and neither will yours.

Remind your students that you might not love the fail, but you will always love the one who fails.

Have a great week!

Scott

p.s. I didn't know where this newsletter would go when I started it. I wrote and cut more paragraphs than I actually published. In the end - it turned out okay. Maybe I can improv after all.



I'm Back! Back to Being On a Deadline.


Tucked away in a small street in Koenji, Japan (a suburb of Tokyo) is the Manuscript Writers Cafe. In a city with thousands of other coffee shops, this one stands out as unique and valuable in ways no other cafe can replicate.

From the outside, there is no discernible difference between the shop and any other small business on the street. But all of that changes when you walk inside. 

There are no comfy sofas. No book liked shelves. No cloth-covered chairs. And you won't find any coffee tables ladened with the day's newspapers and gossip magazines.

Coffee? You get a choice of regular or decaf. No lattes or cappuccinos. The cafe doesn't even have a fancy coffee machine. But then again, the employees aren't baristas. Want a pastry? Tough luck. They don't serve any food.

Manuscript Writers Cafe is no Starbucks, but they don't aim to be.

When you arrive at the register, the manager calmly and quietly asks three questions:

What are you here for?
What is your deadline?
How would you like to be treated?


Run by a team of writers, the sole purpose of Manuscript Writers Cafe's
is to help other writers working on a deadline. 


Here's how it works.

After arriving, you notify the employee of the number of words you need to write, your deadline, and how you want to be reminded (friendly, firm, or stern). Then, every hour, the manager will come and "check in" on you to monitor your progress and ensure that you are on track.

The final rule? You may not leave the cafe until you have completed your writing task. PERIOD. 


My return to writing always has an ambiguous start date. Music teachers' return to work dates are all over the map, depending on where and what you teach. Some of you are already in camp, while others don't return until after Labor Day. 


As I write this, it's 4:34 a.m. on Tuesday (yesterday), and now I am under the gun to write. I'm planted in a Starbucks at the Dallas airport, trying to figure out what to write and secretly wondering if anyone would even notice if I don't write anything.

Why did I wait so long? I had seven weeks to write this.

It's not that I am lazy (okay, maybe a little bit). I have been writing a ton this summer, just not the newsletter.

It's not because I don't have the time. Long plane flights and empty hotel rooms afford me more than enough time to get the job done.

It's not that I don't have things to say. My job is to talk all day long, and I am always willing to pontificate. Just ask my family.

It's because I don't have a deadline.

More so than most other professions, music educators run on deadlines. Start and end of school, camp dates, Friday night halftime shows, concerts, and contests are all deadlines. We even have deadlines every fifty-three minutes, announced by bells. 

Music teachers thrive on deadlines.

Not all deadlines are as concrete. For instance, my wife wants to travel more with our boys before they leave the nest. My eldest is a senior in high school, so that deadline is approaching. Me? I want to run a marathon before I depart this planet. There is no specific date, but my body is telling me that there is definitely a deadline. But, I remain hopeful.

As we begin the year anew, other deadlines are real but hard to define, such as the deadline to:

Make a first impression.
Set rehearsal expectations.
Create group culture.
Identify those who are struggling.
Embolden your leaders.
Build relationships.

Since these are soft deadlines, they are easy to miss or even ignore and can get lost in the sea of instrument checkouts and locker assignments. But they are essential deadlines nonetheless.

The beginning of the year is the time to determine your group's cultural goals and act as if your cultural deadlines were as concrete as your performance schedule. Better culture will result in better performances, but the same can't be said for vice-versa.

So, taking my queue from the Manuscript Writers Cafe, allow me to help you by asking:

What is your goal?
What is the deadline?
How would you like to be reminded: friendly, firm, or stern?

Oh yeah. And don't forget. You can't leave until you've reached your goal(s). I'm willing to hold you to it.

Welcome back. Have a great week.

- Scott





Nostalgic for Nostalgia

Like many of you, I can be a nostalgic person. Not the type of nostalgia where I think, "The good ole days were better," because they weren't for the most part. But I like to visit places and people from my past. Yesterday, I had the unique experience of giving a teacher in-service at the high school where I spent the first ten years of my career.

Coined by the Swiss physician Johannes Hofer in 1688, 'nostalgia' referred to a medical condition – homesickness – characterized by an incapacitating longing for one's past. Hofer favored the term because it combined two essential features of the illness: the desire to return home (nostos) and the pain (algos) of being unable to do so. 

Nostalgia's symptomatology was imprecise and was initially thought to primarily affect soldiers and sailors from specific countries. However, once nostalgia was identified among soldiers from various nationalities, the idea that it was geographically distinct was abandoned, and a new understanding was born.


Except, for me, it was geographically specific.


I arrived almost an hour and a half before the in-service. I wanted plenty of time to explore and experience the place I had called home for more than a decade. With school already out for the summer, almost no one was on campus, and I was free to explore in silence for more than an hour. It was glorious! With every turn of a corner and open door, my mind flooded with memories. The things I had experienced, the students I taught, and the lessons I learned. After being gone for more than two decades, the feelings were overwhelming.

It was nostalgia at its best. 

That's the way nostalgia works. Remember the good, forget the bad.


But I know that nostalgia and that those memories aren't accurate. The feelings? Yes. The memories? No. I remembered only the good and none of the bad. The warmth was genuine, but the memories were biased.


In a paper published in the Association for Consumer Research, author Alan Hirsh states, "Nostalgia is not a specific memory, but an emotional state we attach to a certain time. Many people idealize the past due to perceived pleasant feelings associated with it."

The machination of filtering out the bad and remembering the good takes time. Time to blur the lines between what really happened and how we feel about what happened. Time to blur our true memories into an altered state between reality and fantasy.

When will that happen with the Pandemic? I mean, we learned to romanticize other tragedies.

I don't feel the way about the past two years that I do about my decade-long stay at that school, and I surely don't get the same warm fuzzies walking into my living room where I spent the past twenty-six months as when I entered the classroom where I spent the better part of the 1990s. 

According to research on nostalgia, I will eventually forget the pain of the Pandemic. I will forget the financial and personal loss. I will forget watching teachers struggle and students fall away. I will forget what it was like to wear a mask or be socially distant. I won't remember the bell covers and instrument bags. And, I will forget what an aerosol study is.

But I won't forget it all. That's not how nostalgia works.

I will remember the people I met and the experiences I had with great fondness. The obstacles I faced and the things I achieved. The memories I made, the trips I didn't take, and my time at home.

These past two years have been filled with so much good. So much achievement and accomplishment. So many innovations and adaptations. So many obstacles were overcome, and so many students were impacted. SO MUCH GOOD HAPPENED.

When will we remember and feel good about that?

I am ready to remember the good and forget the bad. I am ready for my altered state, and I am ready to be awash in the positive thoughts of everything we achieved during this tragic time. I guess, I am feeling nostalgic for nostalgia.

Please have a GREAT summer, my friends. 

Scott 

p.s. I will be giving you a break from Memorial Day to late July, as is traditional for me! A break from ME! This will be the last free e-zine until then. I will be hosting some events for Patrons. Feel free to join us by becoming a Patron.

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