The Changing Faces of Our Football Fields

Note from Scott: Lately, I have written a lot about equity and access (in music education), not just for kids but also for teachers. This is another such thought piece. 

 I understand complex issues require complex solutions, and this (or any other) newsletter will not solve anything. But, it might give you something to noodle on for the rest of the day.

This is the January free edition for my e-zine

Last night, nearly 10% of our nation's population set aside everything else to focus on one thing - college football. An estimated 35 million people tuned in to watch Michigan Wolverines defeat the Washington Huskies - a record, doubling last year's audience of 17.2 million. 

For decades, few things unite Americans as consistently and completely as football — the autumnal obsession of Friday nights, the ritualistic centerpiece of college-town Saturdays, the communal Sunday religion of a staggering percentage of the populace. In American culture, the game stands virtually alone in how its appeal cuts across demographic lines.

However, when it comes to actually playing tackle football — and risking the physical toll of a sport linked to brain damage — there are broad divisions marked by politics, economics, and race.


In a recent expose in the Washington Post, authors Dave Sheinin and Emily Giambalvo examined the state of our nation's sport and how it is changing. The Post analyzed decades of high school and college sports participation data and state-by-state demographic trends, interviewed hundreds of coaches, students, and parents, and conducted a nationwide survey about attitudes toward kids' participation in the sport.


What did they find?

"While participation is falling almost everywhere," the Post found, "boys in the poorest states continue to play high school tackle football at higher rates than those in wealthier areas. And while precise data about football's racial makeup is hard to come by, the demographics appear to be gradually shifting faster than national demographic changes."

In short, people from underserved (SES: socio-economic status) and underrepresented (DEI: diversity, equity, & inclusivity) communities participate at higher rates than their counterparts.


The question many organizations are asking is, "How many kids are playing?" This study begs us to ask the next and perhaps more important question, "Who is playing? And why?"


 And, in case you didn't get it - I'm no longer talking about football.

"Who is playing? And why?"

In the past decade, rightfully so, we have seen a growing spotlight on SES and DEI issues for music teachers and their students. In my experience, we tend to look at the overall school, not program demographics.

Let me elaborate.

Many of you know I was a high school band director for sixteen years - all in Title 1 schools. I am FAR from being an expert, but I am also not short on experience. I started my classroom career watching the riots in East Los Angeles and ended my career in the infancy of school-based shootings.

One day, to ask for a bigger budget, I broke down my band in every conceivable way (instrument, class size, year, gender, ethnicity, etc.) When I reviewed the numbers, I was shocked to see that while my school was roughly 34% Hispanic, 33% African-American, and 33% white. In contrast, my ensembles were 45% Hispanic, 47% white, and only 7% African-American.  


My program did not represent my school community. I was operating under the false flag of inclusivity. 


 Like football, I focused on how many students were playing (24% of my high school was in the band) rather than on who they were. 

Yes, I taught in a very balanced (culturally and economically) school community, but my ensembles were under-serving the African-American community. And, if I were being honest, despite having no numbers to prove it, I suspected that the median household income for my band members exceeded that of the school average. Looking at my upper SES school colleagues, I wondered if they had the same imbalances, but in reverse. Did they have students they were not seeing?

Hang with me for a second, and let me explain.

When looking for barriers (and opportunities) to access and inclusivity, perhaps we should be "school-blind" and "student-centered." In other words, we as a profession can't solely focus on specific schools, zip codes, or communities. My experience tells me that regardless of where and what you teach, all schools have lower SES students and under-represented communities. The numbers and percentages may differ from school to school, but issues related to poverty, equality, and other barriers to participation in music exist in every school.

Don't believe me? Answer the following questions. In your school community, do you have:

  • Apartments in your attendance zone?

  • Single-parent households?

  • Parents who lost a job recently?

  • Households that struggle with inflation?

  • First-generation Americans?

  • Mono-lingual parents?

  • Households without a college degree?

  • Families that make payments incrementally?

  • Students who have to wait to buy accessories?

  • Students who can't afford lessons?

  • Students who require jobs?

  • Students who take public transit to school?

  • Students who get free or reduced lunch?

  • Students who don't dress warm enough in the winter?

What about other barriers? Do you have:

  • Students who need a scholarship to go to college?

  • Students who need an AP class that conflicts with music?

  • An AVID or IB program that consumes their schedule?

  • Families that pressure their students to take "real" classes?

  • Counselors who push career pathways?

  • A district that requires a foreign language but does not see music as one?

I could go on, but you get my point.

Those are barriers and obstacles to inclusivity as well. Those problems are just as real to those students and their families.


Diversity, inclusivity, and access are not just Title 1 problems; they are all our problems. They exist in every community and every music program. They may even fool you. The impoverished might not be as poor as you think, the wealthy might not be as rich as you think, and (as I found out), your program might not be as diverse as you think.


 

The Washington Post article points out that for most high school football players, the sport is an opportunity to push themselves, grow, and be a part of a team or family. For those in need, football can be seen as that and more - a way out and up - a chance to change their lot and build a brighter future. And every team has both types of athletes.

That is where I believe music and football are the same.

 On Friday nights, players of sport and players of sound share more than the same field - they share the same dreams, obstacles, and opportunities.

Something to think about. As I said, I don't have all the answers, but I do have some experience.

Have a great week!

Scott

 

p.s. Be Part of the Music just launched Grants, Growth & Gratitude 2024 - $10,000 in offerings designed to impact you and your students. Be sure check it out using the button below.

 

APPLY NOW

© SCOTT LANG LEADERSHIP 2023 - all rights reserved

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My Holiday Gift for You!

 Hey friends:

Every year, to thank you, the incredible teachers who make up this community, I create pre-written gratitude emails for you to use.

I know that you are all capable of writing better than me, but I do this to save you time and effort and provide a gentle reminder to show gratitude for the people that enrich your work life.

As we approach the 2024 Holiday Season, I thought I would once again share this simple offering as a gesture of thanks and a reminder that I know how hard you work.

As always, these are templates. You can copy and paste as is, or modify to suit your individual needs or writing style. 

READ TILL THE END TO OPEN THE MOST IMPORTANT EMAIL OF ALL!

Happy Holidays, friends.

Scott

p.s.  I tried to be as inclusive as possible in my writing to celebrate all people in all ways. If your school community reflects certain traditions or celebrations, feel free to ad and include.

p.p.s.  I provided "hint's and highlights for you to consider and change.


 EMAIL #1: To site administrators:

<< HINT: Make sure your building colleagues are not sending the same note. Or, add their names to this email.>>

Subject line: A long overdue not of thanks.

Dear Admin Team:  

As we approach the end of the semester and the Holiday break, I just wanted to drop you a quick note to tell you how much I appreciate you and your daily efforts on our behalf. 

Every day, you're not just leading from above; you are there in the trenches with us, working hard to ensure that WE and OUR STUDENTS are experiencing success. You do it without fanfare, accolades, or much gratitude. 

In recent years, schools and education have become more politicized. The toxicity, disrespect, and intolerance shown towards administrators are sometimes unbelievable. Through it all, you keep your cool (as far as I can see), and show yourself and our school to be the shining example that it is.

I will never fully see or understand WHAT you do every day, but I do see HOWyou do it, with intelligence, grace, compassion, and integrity. You fight for us and serve as an example of the professional we all strive to be.

As an employee, colleague, member of this faculty, and fellow human being, I just wanted to say "Thanks."

Have a restful and relaxing Holiday break. You deserve it.

Sincerely, 

(insert name) 
(title)


EMAIL #2 - Email to Parents/Guardians

<< HINT: "Family" can be anyone who contributes to the child's success.>>

Subject line: Happy Holidays from a grateful music teacher.

Dear parents, guardians, friends, and families (insert other):

I hope this email finds you happy, healthy, and SANE! 

Teaching young people is tricky at best and a nightmare at worst. So, I can only imagine what raising them must be like.

Your kids are wonderful... to me.  I doubt that at home, they are as delightful as they are for me here at school.

They are wonderful to be because:

You taught them to be that way.

You gave them an example to follow.

You set the standard and held them accountable.

You reminded them to be their best selves whenever possible.

You loved, cared for, and supported them in everything they do.

Even when it was hard, YOU were the parents!

As we approach this season of joy, I wanted you to know how much I appreciate your continued support - the instruments, the lessons, carpool, reeds, sticks, etc. You do so much for your children, in and out of music, and I am confident that while it may seem underappreciated, I assure you it is not. 

I usually am able to acknowledge and thank you (the parents) at meetings, concerts, and events. But, I wanted to make sure that I connected with each one of you and shared the following... 

I appreciate you. For the things I see you do and the things I don't. I appreciate your support, patience, and understanding. I appreciate your willingness to allow, encourage, and insist that music be a part of your child's life. It will be worth it in the end, for you and your children.

So let this email serve as my personal "Thank you" for all you do as a parent of a child in music.

Sincerely,

 

(insert name)
(title)

 


Email #3 - Email to Your Board/Superintendent

<< HINT: Make sure your district music colleagues are not sending the same note. Or, add all their names to this email.>>

Subject line:  A sincere note of thanks.


Dear Board Member/Superintendent (Insert names and titles):

I would not want your job. The toxicity and politicization of our schools leave you in an unenviable, if not impossible position. As I said, I would not want your job, but I am glad you do!

As we approach the end of the semester, I want to let you know that I appreciate you and your efforts to ensure that every child has access to a good (music) education.

I believe that music is more important than ever for every child. Music and the arts are not just creative outlets; they are safe spaces and facilitators of excellence that will guide children long after they leave our halls. 

As you continue making the hard decisions regarding our schools, please know that your support of our arts and music programs has played a vital role in helping students grow as academics and as young humans. You had an important role in making this happen. And for that, I thank you.

As we approach the Holiday break, it seems appropriate to end this email with a simple, but well deserved, "Thank you!"

With great sincerity,

(insert name)

(school)
(title)

  


Email # 4 - to a special friend/parent/colleague

<< HINT: If you are sending this to another music teacher - make sure that they are not receiving this note as well. >>

 

Subject line: You make this job easier...

Hey (insert name):

Today, I sat down to write some notes of thanks to the people who have helped me along the way. I do it to thank those who typically don't receive it, and remind myself that there are those who have helped me along the way.


And then I got to you...

I want you to know that you make this incredibly difficult job just a little bit easier and the difficult days just a little bit less hard.
I could list the dozens of times you came to my aid. But, that wouldn't reflect the dozens of other times you weren't there, but just knowing I had some support made me feel better. 

You are amazing - and during this season of giving, just know that I give thanks to YOU for being YOU!

Have a great break my friend. You deserve it!

(insert name)

 


Email #5 - to YOU...YES, YOU!

<< HINT: This is the most important email of all - I wrote it just for you.>> 

Subject line:  You make the world a better place!


Dear Scott, 

Yes, now it's your turn. No copy and paste, just sit, read, and smile.

As things return to "normal, " it's easy to forget what you did (and are still doing) to return to normal. Because of your tireless efforts and boundless energy, kids feel as if things ARE back to normal, when you and I both know that we are not quite there yet.

Whatever it took, you never stop TEACHING. You meet kids where they are at, assess what they need, and adjust on the fly. You make abnormal seem NORMAL - which, for many of your students is the best Holiday gift of all.

As most of you know, I spent 16 years in the classroom and another 20 traveling from music room to music room, which is what makes me appreciate you even more. I see how hard you work, and know how much you sacrifice. And, if we're being honest, I don't think I could do what you do. At least not as well as you are doing it. YOU are the better teacher. YOU are the harder worker. And YOU are making a more significant difference than I am.

So...

No coal for you! Your stocking will be full this year. Being an Elf (insert short joke), I checked Santa's list, and YOU ARE AT THE VERY TOP OF IT!

As we heard towards the Holiday break, I can't think of anyone who is worthy of my gratitude more than you. You are a role model, sherpa, and shining beacon of light for young people . YOU ARE A MUSIC TEACHER!

And that is the greatest gift you can give to a child.

 

Your biggest fan, and Elf on the Shelf, 

 

- Scott

 

 

Through the Holiday season, I match and donate all Patron memberships to the Patricia Allen Pediatric Recovery Wing at Children's Oshei Hospital. This is my way of giving something back to people who gave something to my family.

Please consider becoming a Patron, or giving it as a gift.

 

BECOME A PATRON

 

© SCOTT LANG LEADERSHIP 2023 - all rights reserved

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Do You Hear What I Hear & the Wicked Truth

Do You Hear What I Hear? is a worldwide holiday classic penned in 1962. Originally released by the great crooner Bing Crosby, this Holiday staple has been covered more than 200 different artists since its inception. 

Written by the husband and wife team of Noel Regeny and Gloria Shayne, this iconic work was conceived and composed as a plea for global peace during the Cuban Missile Crisis. 

This Holiday staple asks three simple and yet profound questions:

Do you hear what I hear?
Do you see what I see?
Do you know what I know?

Recently, my wife and I attended the hit Broadway musical Wicked. We have seen the production multiple times since its release and are well-acquainted with both the music and lyrics. However, this experience was profoundly different.

To get my son (who is in band) more interested in music, before the start of the show I took him to see the pit orchestra.

OMG!


The underground and mostly covered space contained four partitioned plexiglass spaces with thirteen musicians playing 36 different instruments into 46 microphones. It was ridiculous!


Geeking out on the enormity of it all, I asked the lead flutists about her instruments - she showed me her array of flutes, head joints, foot attachments, and explained the reason and rationale for each element.

I was entranced - my son? Not so much.

As I returned to my seat for the show's start, I decided to "tune out" on the production and "tune in" on the orchestration. I wanted to hear the alto flute, and understand this choice every other musical one that had been made.

I had an intensely different experience than previous shows. It was like I was hearing the musical for the first time. Not only did I hear things I had never heard before, but I found myself wanting to ask the arranger (William David Brohn) so many questions.

  • Why the alto flute in the ballad? What did it bring that new traditional flute could not provide?

  • Why use the suspended, diminished chord with the Eb clarinet on top as the opening overture statement?

  • Why 5/8 time during the dance sequence?

  • Why bassoon and not bari-sax at the close of the first act?

  • How did he factor instrument doublings and the logistics of instrument switching in the arrangement?

And so much more.


I was giddy with questions and thoughts. Even though it was my fourth time seeing the musical, it was my first time hearing it. 


I was on fire and wanted to share the experience and my curiosities with someone - but I had no one. I wanted to ask my wife and son:

Do you hear what I hear?
Do you see what I see?
Do you know what I know?

My wife is a true sport. Despite having little interest in how music is composed/orchestrated, and even less knowledge, she has accepted that she lives with a music teacher and is a willing and eager participant in all that comes with it. But,  as much as she enjoys music, she does not UNDERSTAND it. That is completely different.

How could she?

She did not sit in a practice room for hours in college. She is not a music theory "survivor." She did not analyze four part figured bass writing until three in the morning. She was never chastised by a professor for not working hard enough (even thought you had been at school for twelve hours seven days in a row). She doesn't know the difference when resolving a German 2nd chord versus an Italian 2nd chord. But, if we're being honest, neither do I. 

In the end, despite her deep love of music, our experience with music will be deeper, richer, and more complex because:

We know what she doesn't. 
We see what she can't. 
We hear what she misses.

She knew the story; I knew the music elements used to tell it effectively. She could see the costumes and props; I could see the complexity of the instruments, chambers and equipment required to bring them to life. She could hear the melody; but I could hear the harmonies and orchestrations that gave it depth, complexity, and a sense of irony.

We saw the same production, but had two VERY different experiences.

Remember what Noel and Gloria asked us?

Do you hear what I hear?
Do you see what I see?
Do you know what I know?


Being immersed in the musical world means that you and I are surrounded by musicians. People who see what we see, hear what we hear, and know what we know.


Because I am surrounded by this, it seems normal to me, when in fact, itis not. I forget to stop and appreciate the fantastical, magical world I get to live in. A place where I am fluent in a language that few people are. I need to remember the time and effort that went in to training my ears, mind, and hands my brain to process information and produce these experiences.

This gift of understanding we have is special. It is born of hard work and sacrifice. It took time, effort, and work done in solitude that few outside of this calling will ever understand. It can't be replicated in the Metaverse, explained  by Chat GPT, or recreated by Apple Glass. It is ours. we earned it, and so we must appreciate and treasure it for the gift that it is.

Yes, I can take my wife to Wicked again. I can introduce her to the conductor who can show her the score and explain the orchestration. I can even try to explain the nuance and irony of all of the musical choices that the musical team made. But, even after all of that, she will never...

See what we see.
Know what we know.
Hear what we hear.

And that's just Wicked!

Have a great week everyone.

Scott

 

© SCOTT LANG LEADERSHIP 2023 - all rights reserved



The Warbler, Movin' on Up, and Our Glee

If you are a pop-culture or choral aficionado, you may remember the hit television show Glee - an American musical comedy-drama airing from 2009 to 2015. 

This cultural phenomenon centered on a cast of diverse characters participating in show choir at William McKinley High School.

Part teen fantasy, part caustic comedy, this Broadway-level television show featured some of the best young talent in America going head-to-head in the blood sport of show choir. And sport it was.

Their arch nemesis? 

The Dalton Academy Warblers. A group of well-to-do students attending an all-male elite private boarding school that intensely supported the arts. 


While fictional, the show does not stray too far from real life in that show choir is indeed a competitive sport that can trace its origins back to (all male) highly prestigious private schools.


The Harvard Glee Club is America's oldest known glee club, tracing its origins back to 1858. Soon thereafter, Yale, Wesleyan, Princeton, and Cornell followed in the Crimson's footsteps with their own musical organizations. Now, "amateur" singing groups can be found on virtually every affluent college campus in America. Like on Glee, the TV show, the Warblers can trace their musical roots to access, privilege, and money.

And we're not just talking about a TV show.

(Editor's note: Brace yourself for an enormous leap - even by Scott Lang standards).

Last Monday's edition of the New York Times featured an article stating that warblers, the feathered flying kind, were flocking to more affluent neighbors to sing their songs. The article cited a study in which wildlife researchers had noted an unequal distribution (lack) of birds and other species in low-income areas, which they believe can be traced back to urban policies adopted decades ago.

The study author, Christopher J. Schell, from the University of California, Berkeley, concluded that discrimination and inequality affect how people and other species experience life in dense urban cities.

(Let me give you the Cliff Notes version.)

Birds require housing (trees), food (bugs & worms), foliage (bushes), and ground cover (grass) - all of which require space, care, and maintenance. 

It will shock no one when I say that well-manicured lawns, tree-lined streets, and flower-filled parks are far more prevalent in places of affluence. So, the places most needing natural song are left with silence.


Following their singing roots, the warbler moved to a  more affluent neighborhood to survive.


Modern (classical) music has always been associated with affluence. History teaches the costs of acquiring, learning, and performing music have always been more accessible to those with means. The great masterworks were commissioned by large bodies (church/state) and performed in front of great wealth (aristocracy/royalty). And, while America's public school music programs have made incredible strides in accessibility, there is too much silence in places that need music the most. The songbirds have moved to the suburbs.

How do we rectify it? We look to Mother Nature and the warbler.

Science and evolution teach us that the warbler WILL return to places it once left if grass is grown, trees are planted, and flowers bloom. When the habitat is safe and supportive, the species will inevitably return. But returning to a forlorn and forgotten environment (musical and otherwise) requires considerable investment, planning, and resources. In other words, it was the intentional act of man who drove the songbirds away, so they need the intentional act of man to bring them back home.

Are you following my analogy?

For the music programs to return to underserved communities, we must plant "musical trees" - a space where students can nest and feel safe. We must provide "musical nourishment" - high-quality experiences with high-quality educators. And, we must ensure that the "musical eco-system" has the needed resources (instruments and equipment) that allow the students to survive and thrive.

How do we do that?

What would make a music educator commute far from their home and teach in a community far from where they live? What would make teaching in a place with fewer musical opportunities and more danger desirable? How do we incentivize the best and brightest to work with those needing their valuable experience and skills? How do we return music to places and spaces that are musically uninhabitable and deafeningly silent?

There are many possible answers. It is likely a challenging and lengthy fix, but we can all agree it will require a significant and intentional act by our communities and profession. 


Remember, the silence is not the fault of the school community; it's a reflection of it.


In moving uptown, the warbler is not trying to make a political statement or advance an agenda. It is not seeking to increase its social status or improve its zip code. Much like its human counterpart, it's just trying to survive. The warbler and her sweet song will return to their former home, given the opportunity.

I believe this to be true for my feathered and non-feathered friends. And that would bring me GLEE!

 

Have a great week everyone.

 

Scott



BEING A HANDYMAN & USING THE RIGHT TOOLS

My father was NOT a handy person. In fact, his tiny tool set consisted of one hammer, one screwdriver, and if we're being honest, I don't know that I ever saw him use either one of them. 

Growing up in a "DDIY" (don't do it yourself) household meant I had little exposure to tools and learning how to fix things - something I have spent my entire life trying  to overcome. So, in addition to overcoming my lack of experience, I am also trying to ensure I don't handicap my own two boys the same way.

So, with the help of my friend, and YouTube, I tackle every big and small project that comes my way. I now am proud to report that I am fairly competent with basic electric, plumbing, and can even hang some drywall. In fact, just last week, I tore apart my back deck and rebuilt the entire substructure - 32 8x10 beams. It is mostly straight, but I would recommend you hire someone other than me if you are considering a similar project.

To be clear, when I do projects, I ask lots of questions, make WAY too many trips to Home Depot, and usually take twice as long to complete the project than it should. My wife always asks, "What are these parts on the ground?" I try and convince her that they are extras from the manufacturer, but I don't think she's buying what I am selling.

But I am getting better and learning a lot. So I soldier on.


The most important thing I have learned is that having the correct tools makes all the difference. 


Not only does it ensure the job is done correctly, but it makes it more efficient and less frustrating.

Which is what makes this next story so amusing.

This week, while on a spacewalk to complete maintenance work on the International Space Station (ISS), a tool belt slipped from the astronaut's hand and floated away. According to EarthSky, a website tracking cosmic events, "The tool bag is currently orbiting Earth ahead of the ISS, and can potentially be spotted with a pair of binoculars."

Listen, no judgment here, as I have dropped plenty of tools, and lost plenty of stuff, but this is next level.


It's not like they can make a quick run to Home Depot to get some new tools now can they? They are stuck.


So, they will have to make do with what remaining tools they have - which is a lot like what you do.

As teachers, we use tools every day. We use ones that make our jobs easier and some tools that make it harder. Tuners, dot books, computers, mixing boards, mouthpiece pullers, parent helpers, and software, to name a few. And just like with the tools in our garages, we all have different levels of aptitude and interest in using them. But there they are, nonetheless. 

Until they aren't. Like with the astronauts.

This is not just about physical tools, but emotional and musical ones as well.  Tools such as empathy, patience, judgement, and understanding? It's not just about having them, it's about knowing when and how to use them. And that's hard, because there's no set of procedures or rules to follow, or step-by-step instructions.


Not every tool or problem comes with a YouTube video explaining how to fix it, because there are too many unknowns and some problems aren't easily fixed.


Just this week, an old friend and colleague reached out to tell me that a student had posted lies about the band and staff on social media. He didn't know what to do. He lacked the experience and tools to deal with it. He then added that his building was just declared structurally unsafe, and starting tomorrow, no one would be allowed back in for the rest of the year.

Looks like beyond patience, creativity, and flexibility, he needs a bulldozer - which he does not own or know how to operate. But if that were me - I would also be lacking in the patience and flexibility area as well. In those spaces, my father and I share an alarming lack of depth.

As music educators and people, there are a lot of tools at our disposal. Additionally, you have a lot of experience to draw upon when you use them. However, even with a well armed tool belt, filled with lots of options, you can't solve every problem, it's impossible. So, you ask for help, and do the best you can. It's all there is. And that's ok.

It's easy for adjudicators, administrators, and parents to find the flaw. A place and space where they see shortcomings. It's easy for outsiders and adjudicators to assume that all situations are the same, and all tools are accessible and in working order, when in fact they aren't. So we (me) feel flawed and like a failure.

But we (I) need to remember, it's not just about the final product. It's about the growth we experienced while making it.  So yes, the 8th board on my deck is raised by a 1/16th of an inch, and I love it, because it is evidence that I did it.

Someone reminded me in a less-than-pleasant email after last week's blog - me, my writing, and my projects are far from perfect. And while the delivery was mean, I  did agree with the premise. I am imperfect, and so is my work, handyman and otherwise.

But I show up every day, put in the work, and am doing my very best. And that is good enough for me - and I hope it is good enough for you.

At least I don't lose my tools.

Have a great week.

Scott

© SCOTT LANG LEADERSHIP 2023 - all rights reserved


THE POWER OF POTENTIAL AND THE ROOKS

In 1991, the US National Junior High Chess Championships in Detroit gave birth to one of the greatest upsets in the history of the sport.

The elite team from Dalton, a private school in New York, was the prohibitive favorite, as they had won the title in each of the previous three years. In contrast, their upstart opponent, the Raging Rooks from a public school in Harlem, New York, had never even attended before, much less won.

The Rooks surprised everyone with a strong start but soon crumbled, falling to fifth place. Sensing declining morale, the team's coach, Maurice Ashley, gathered his team and reminded them that the game was won and lost in their head and not on the board and that strategy and discipline would beat talent and experience. Kasaun Henry, the team captain, went on to beat Dalton's best player, giving the Rooks the tournament trophy and the title of United States School Chess Program Champion.


"How could a team with barely enough players that practiced in parks where drug dealers did their business beat experienced and highly trained chess professionals?" author Adam Grant questions in his book Hidden Potential.


Grant asserts that everyone, not just geniuses and superstars, can achieve great things. In his book, he provides a three-part framework for developing character skills, sustaining long-term motivation, and designing opportunity systems that allow anyone to grow, learn, and reach their highest heights.

He states:


"People who achieve great things are rarely freaks of nature - but are freaks of nurture."


 He believes learning how to grow is more important than the growth itself. To prove his point, he traces the income earnings of a control group based on the experience level of their kindergarten teacher. The more experienced kindergarten teachers didn't necessarily give kids better skills in reading and math, but they instilled the character skills to help kids be proactive, prosocial, disciplined, and determined. 

In short - good teachers develop good people who go on to do good things.

I doubt this will come as an epiphany to any of you.

But it probably is to the rest of the world.

We all know the power of music and the importance it holds in a child's life; however, for most people, music is no different than math, science, or foreign language.

As an industry, in my view, we have not done a very good job of educating parents about the profound and long-term benefits of music. They see the "what" but not the "how."  Much like any other curriculum, parents see the grade, attend the concert, and understand that their child has had some mastery of playing their instruments. What they don't understand are the character traits and cognitive skills that are developing as a part of the process.

Compounding the problem, we (music education) do a poor job of explaining the long-term growth trajectory associated with music - that this is a step in a six-to-sixty-year journey that could change the trajectory of their child's life.

You know who does this really well? Youth sports.

When a parent puts their child on a sports team, they understand that their child will not hit a home run, master the underwater flip turn, or run a 4.7 forty-yard dash on day one. They walk in the door (or on the field), knowing this is a multi-year or even decade-long process that will not have any shortcuts.  

As long as we're being honest, deep down inside, most parents know that the probability of their child becoming a professional athlete is minuscule, but they encourage their kids to pursue it anyway. Why? Because parents see the ancillary benefits associated with being on a team: dedication, commitment, selflessness, overcoming obstacles, pushing oneself, etc.

In short, they see character-building activities, and the potential it creates for their child on and off the field. 

Music does all of this and, frankly, does it better (in my opinion). Better because, with time, sports separates based on athletic ability and body development, both of which are largely not within a child's control.

Music has a place and space for every child - regardless of their circumstances, genetics, size, or ability. A place and space that will help them find and develop their life-long potential, by building character, all under the watchful eye of a caring and experienced educator.

It is as true for music as it is for athletics or chess. We just don't frame music in that way. If we did...

It would be checkmate.

Have a great week.

Scott

NOW AND THEN - THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD

The Long and Winding Road is the epic and fortuitous title of the Beatles' final work. Written in 1970, this poignant ballad was released exactly one month before their break up. It became their 20th and final number-one hit.

Until now.

In forty-eight hours, the Beatles will bring closure to some unfinished business by releasing their first new song in over thirty years. Using an old cassette tape (see graphic above if you are Gen Z) and new technology, they were able to recreate John Lennon's voice and record Now and Then, his final creative work.

Written shortly before his death in 1979, Now and Then was one of four unfinished original works that Lennon left behind. The remaining band members (McCartney, Starr, and Harrison), aka the "Threatles," recorded and released three of the works as a part of their 1995 Anthology project - leaving Now and Then un-recorded and unheard for another thirty years. Dubbed "the last Beatles song," no one other than Paul and Ringo knows what to expect. 

An inexplicable attack and an insidious disease mean that John Lennon and George Harrison will never hear the results of this final project. But on Friday, the Beatle's nearly seventy-year Long and Winding Road will be complete.


The Long and Winding Road is the perfect soundtrack to a music educator's career. For most of us, what likely started with delight in a small elementary music room evolved into a beloved activity, friend group, college major, and life-long professional career. 


Your pathway is uniquely yours as, throughout your career, you have impacted many students, performed many works, and assumed many roles, in different places and schools. But the journey is a shared one, with students, colleagues, and spouses joining along. The journey was yours to choose, but make no mistake, you were never traveling alone.

The road was never straight, the path never clear, and it was rarely easy. You stayed true and never waivered. And to be clear, when the time comes, your journey will end, but the Long and Winding Road continues.


Retirement, life choices, and other events will eventually take us all from our classrooms but the release of Now and Then reminds us that after we lay our batons down, others will pick it up and finish the job. 


Friends and colleagues, young and old, will carry the torch and complete our unfinished business. They will do it for us, just as you did for someone who came before you. As I write this, someone else is standing on the podium at Tempe High School where I stood for more than a decade, continuing the work I started with students I've never met - just as I did for Dr. Stephen Peterson, and he did for Bernard Curry. The list goes on and on.

While I no longer stand on that podium, teach in that room, or roam the halls of that campus, I am still profoundly impacted by my time there. I would not be where I am today had I not walked the path I did yesterday. I would like to think that my former students would say the same thing. While they no longer march their drill or play their horns, their journey as a part of that program still impacts them in profound ways. 

Perhaps the Beatles said it best in their final work.

The long and winding road
That leads to your door
Will never disappear
I've seen that road before
It always leads me here

Read the verse above again but do so visualizing those words coming from a student, and the door leading to your classroom. 

Profoundly different, isn't it?

Listen, the work of changing kids' lives with music never ends, but our time on this professional pathway is finite. Although I am no longer in a classroom, I will always be a music educator. I just took (a couple of) different turns than you might have, but again, same journey, different pathway.

As I wander down this professional pathway, In My Life, I need to look back on the Long and Winding Road every Now and Then.

Have a great November everyone. Looking forward to Friday.

- Scott

p.s. Tomorrow, I will be sending you a "bonus" article. It's content I wrote for my Patron group a couple of weeks ago - the response was significant enough that I wanted to share it with the rest of you. Look for it tomorrow.

OUR DILEMMA, GROWTH vs. ACHIEVEMENT

This is Part 2, of a two-part thought exercise on equity in music education for my Patron group. Part 1 imagined how a student's experience would differ if (similar to the NFL), music education were to adopt a salary cap and a revenue sharing model. Part 2 (below) talks about what we measure and who we value.

The response to these articles was so strong that I thought I would share it with all of you. If you value this (type) of content, and would like to support and receive more of it - click below.

- Scott

BECOME A PATRON


 Last week, I used the NFL's salary cap and revenue-sharing model as a parallel for music education. I was trying to draw attention to how inequities impact our programs and students.

Specifically, I highlighted how the NFL goes to great lengths to ensure that every player, coach, and organization has equal resources and access, ensuring a level playing field. With all things being equal, it is up to the coaches to coach and the players to play.

As I mentioned last week, the same systems do not exist in (music) education. The inequity doesn't end on the playing field; it continues into the coach's (director's) office.

Let me explain. 

To help me do that and make it more realistic, let's create a fictional music teacher - we'll call him Mr. Smith. Let's meet Jeff and learn a bit more about him. Jeff:

  • He is an experienced teacher with twenty-one years under his belt. 

  • He has a bachelor's and a master's degree in music education.

  • He lives and works in a semi-rural community with a high school enrollment of 750 students.

  • Mr. Smith is the only K-12 instrumental music teacher, teaching K-12 band and one orchestra class at the high school. 

  • He has a marching band and an after-school jazz ensemble that meets twice weekly.

  • Jeff has 88 students in the high school program and a marching band of 65.

  • He is also the department chair for the Fine Arts Department at the high school.

  • He goes to contest when possible and always gets "excellent & superiors" from the adjudicators.

Jeff is the perfect snapshot of an average music educator. 

Don't believe me? 

In creating Jeff's bio, I used the national average for:

  • school enrollment

  • music teacher education level

  • tenure of service

  • % of students enrolled in music

  • teacher schedule


So yes - by any metric, Jeff is average. But, he is VERY successful at being average.


Way to go Jeff!

Now, let's dive into more specifics regarding Jeff's program and school community. Based on demographics, Jeff is likely:

  • Located in a small/rural area.

  • Where many of his students have jobs/work in the family business.

  • Needing better facilities.

  • Lacking a regular budget.

  • Working with aging inadequate instruments needing repair.

  • Not close to an instrument retailer or repair shop

  • Lacking private lesson teachers in his community except for his spouse/partner, who played flute in the college - where they met. (nice touch, right?)

  • A solo marching band teacher, lacking techs or staff, and no budget to pay them if he could find them.

  • Using stock or pre-used written music, and writing the drill himself.

Combined with what we already know about Jeff, this added info shows him to be more than excellent: HE'S A ROCK STAR and doing it all on his own, He should be entitled to all the trappings that come with stardom, right? 

Jeff should be:

  • Guest conducting local honor groups.

  • Speaking at conferences and colleges.

  • Assigned student teachers and mentoring young professionals

  • Performing at MEA events.

  • Submitting recordings to national events.

  • Courted by prestigious collegiums and professional organizations.

  • Sought after by larger schools with more resources.

  • Publishing papers or writing a book.

  • Interviewed on podcasts and for trade journals.

  • Serving on boards as a thought leader.

Yes, Jeff should be doing all of this and MORE. But, likely, he is not.  

Yes, Jeff may be a model educator - but not necessarily the model we measure, because in (music) education, we typically measure performance more than growth. And not just for the students, but for the teachers as well.

So my question is, given all that Jeff is doing (with limited resources):


how do we (as a profession) honor and value him? Or perhaps more important, how does he honor and value himself?

 


For instance, how does Jeff:

  • Explain to his students that other groups have more staff and resources that impact the outcome (meaning he is the weak link)?

  • Feel sifting through articles about balance and blend when he only has one French Horn and no tubas? 

  • Ask his students for characteristic tone, when they have never heard it in person?

  • Encourage students to audition for all-state/ honor groups with little likelihood of making them (no lesson coaches)?

  • Wander the exhibit halls and browse websites filled with instruments and uniforms his students need and deserve b ut the school cannot afford?

Most important, how does Jeff feel sitting through convention concerts knowing that he and his students are just as deserving to be there, but likely never will.

If we are being honest, (like most extra-curriculars), music education skews towards larger schools in affluent suburban neighborhoods. Places where enrollment and demographics provide a significant advantage. Places where the parents are supportive and resources are aplenty.

But this is not where Jeff is.

So, how will Jeff know how effective he is? 
How will he understand the efficacy of his life's work? 
How will he be able to better understand and appreciate his value?

Be recognized for his excellence?

He won't learn that at contest - that is where we learn how the group performed, now how much they have grown. He doesn't get to explain his circumstances or obstacles to the adjudicators. They don't get to hear a recording of the group from the beginning of the year to hear the change. They don't inspect the instruments to see if they are in good working condition. Someone announces the group's name, they play, get a rating, and leave (yes, I know there may or may not be a clinic).


Performance evaluated - growth unmeasured.


Regardless of his rating, Jeff is an incredible teacher! Just one who will never play at a convention, win a prestigious award, or be invited to join an honor organization/collegium.


I know that it is incumbent upon all of us to find our own self-worth, and performance standards matter, but so does growth. And, as a rule, we are very good at measuring one, but not so great at measuring the other.  Remember, every group can achieve growth; but for some, performance excellence can behas a few more obstacles and can be a little more elusive to attain.

So, for all you "Jeff's" in the world, know that YOU are a model music educator, YOU are excelling at your life's work, and YOU are valued - by your students, your community, and the guy sitting behind this computer. 

WAY TO GO JEFF! YOU ARE A ROCKSTAR!

Have a great week!

Scott 

© SCOTT LANG LEADERSHIP 2023 - all rights reserved

Salary Caps and Socialism in Music Education


In case I haven't made it clear in It is no secret that I am a fan of football. While my specific drug of choice is the Buffalo Bills, I enjoy all levels of football, including college and high school. I have been a flag football coach to both of my sons.

I am not alone in my love of football - most Americans consider it their favorite sport. In fact, of the top 100 television shows watched last year, 82 of them involved pigskin and colliding helmets.


My love of football is not contained just to the field; I walk the sidelines as a coach and am equally interested in the business side of the game. I am especially interested in salary cap management and revenue sharing.


 

If you were unaware, most professional sports have a salary cap (or wage cap). Simply stated, a salary cap is an agreed-upon dollar figure that limits the amount of money a team can spend on players' salaries. According to NFL.com, the purpose of the cap is to maintain a competitive balance by restricting richer clubs from entrenching dominance by signing many more top players than their rivals. Other leagues have variations on a cap, called a "luxury tax," in which you pay a penalty if you spend over the cap, but the NFL's cap is hard and immovable.

To further the parity among teams, the league also operates under a revenue-sharing model in which all 32 teams receive equal shares of this money, regardless of individual team performance or viewing audience. 

This creates a fair and level playing field in which all teams have an equal chance to win. This doesn't explain the Browns, but honestly, nothing does. ( I had to come up with a new team now that the Lions are good!)


Wage cap? Profit sharing? These are outrageous and decidedly un-American - weird for America's most beloved game.


But without these two components, small market teams like Buffalo, Cincinnati, Green Bay, etc., could not afford marquee players and would likely cease to exist altogether.

So yes, I like the salary cap and profit sharing because it levels the playing field and puts all teams on even-standing.

Where am I going with this you ask?  

We all know that money impacts all phases of music, starting with lessons, step-up instruments, quality reeds, new strings, etc. But, it really impacts marching band. For this article and thought exercise, I will focus on that.

So, for giggles, what if we followed the lead of the NFL and instituted salary caps and revenue sharing?

  • What if all music groups were afforded the same budget?

  • What if we capped how much staff people could have or how much they could pay them?

  • What if groups/schools with more resources were required to share those resources with less fortunate schools? 

Continuing on with the NFL analogy...

  • What if we limited rehearsal time to be the same for everyone? (Texas is already doing this.)

  • What if we put a window on the way, time, and place groups could rehearse?

  • I realize that this is a bit of a stretch, but what if players were "drafted" so all groups had the same talent pool to teach and the same number of staff to teach them?

Would it change the activity? 

I think we would all agree the answer would be yes. Would it be for the better? I will leave you to determine that.

My point is that music is not continually operating on a level playing field. Students' (and teachers') experiences are altered in meaningful and significant ways based on the resources at their disposal, creating an unlevel playing field (competitively speaking). This unlevel field impacts not only the students but also teachers.

Great coaches leave for better-paying jobs and ones that offer them better opportunities, resources, and changes to grow their skill sets. Are teachers any different? Look at teams with long-term success; they usually have long-term coaches, owners, and coordinators. How many music teachers leave for the same reasons, but with more devastating effects?


The issues of equity and access are significant ones, not just in music education, but in our country. While we can't solve all of them, we can be mindful of them. We can look for ways to ensure that every child has as close to EQUAL (not the same) an opportunity to find success as possible, not just on the field of competition, but in the field of life. 


I am NOT trying to take ANYTHING away or diminish the accomplishments of high-achieving groups, or the teachers who lead them. They are doing ground-breaking work and changing not just kids' lives but this entire art form. Nor am I suggesting that these directors live a charmed, problem-free existence. I am merely pointing out that all things and experiences are not created equal, and we should be mindful of that.

It seems like the right thing to do for kids and for the activity.

I have a bit more to say on this subject and will likely continue my thoughts later this week or next - but if you have feedback, I would like to hear it. Click here to send me an email.

 

Scott







COMMANDER IN CHOMP - RIGHT PLACE, WRONG DAY

In case I had not made it clear in previous e-zines, I am a dog LOVER. I love all things furry and canine-related so much that in my 56 years of existence, I have had a four-legged friend by my side for 52 of them.

This is not a slant or slap in the face to my feline-loving followers, as I love cats, too. If not for my wife and oldest son's allergy to them, I would also have cats. I love all animals - well, not snakes and spiders, they are just creepy, and as long as we are on the subject, they are called PETS because you can PET them, so in addition to snakes and spiders, fish are not really high on my list either.

My drug (dog) of choice? Golden Retrievers! Their intellect, disposition, and willingness to please make them a joy to be around. My current sweet girl, Riley, has brought more joy to our household than any previous occupant, and I am including humans.


Yes, Goldens are my jam - not because they are a better dog, but because they are better suited to me. You may feel (rightly so) differently.


And our current Commander in Chief does.

In case you have not heard, President Biden's dog Commander attacked yet another Secret Service agent Monday — marking the 11th known time the 2-year-old canine chomped down on the Executive Mansion's staff.

Yep, Commander likes to be in charge, similar to their first dog Champ, who wanted to Chomp!

In an official press release, the White House stated that they were working on additional leashing protocols and training and establishing designated areas for Commander to run and exercise. However, it's not clear how far those plans have progressed.

Ummmm...  I can tell you how they progressed. They didn't. He is still taking a bite out of crime (fighters).

As I said, I love dogs. And while I don't condone biting, I don't see this as Commander's fault. Nor do I see it as the fault of the persons he has bitten. He is simply being a dog - one who is prone to biting.

In my workshops, you might have heard me say that, for the most part, people don't change. I can not explain the content or context of this blog as it would be too long; I merely mean that introverts tend to stay introverted, academics tend to stay academics, and impatient people (me) tend to stay impatient. Yes, we grow and evolve, but our essence remains with us throughout our lives because it's who we're meant to be. Good and bad.

And Commander is no different. he is being who he was meant to be, an aggressive, protective German Shepherd. When placed in an environment that favors or even requires those skills, he goes from pariah to martyr. 

So who is at fault here? 


We are who we are meant to be. And, your musical, personal, and organizational skills (or lack of) can be an asset or detriment, depending not on WHO you are, but WHERE you are.


Let me explain.

I am a (sometimes) aggressive, (often) opinionated, (frequently) fast-moving, outgoing teacher who does not enjoy, but does not shy away from uncomfortable conversations and situations.

These qualities are high-value for a high school marching band director at a Title 1 school, where I spent my entire career. They helped me (and my students) to thrive in ways we would not have if I were different. These same qualities would be of considerable concern if I were an elementary general music teacher in the suburbs.

I am who I am. And I now recognize that not only am I not likely to change, but that I don't want to. I like me - well, most days.

My point is that finding my fit requires me to accept who I am and recognize where I can do the least harm and the most good. It's not just crucial for me; it's also essential for my students.

Despite the fact that we are in the education business, music education tends to value achievement over growth and performance over the process used to achieve it. Typically, adjudicators don't consider your situation (what you and your students have overcome) before assigning a score. In other words, it's not how far you have come; it's where you ended that matters. Demonstrable speaking - it tacitly states that all teachers, students, and programs are the same, which we all know is not true.

Some teachers are more comfortable than others with:

  • The inner city

  • Elementary-age students 

  • Woodwind/brass/percussion pedagogy

  • Jazz improv 

  • Parent interaction 

  • Classroom management

  • Program management/ paperwork

The list is endless.


But remember, just because our profession or a contest doesn't reward a characteristic, it doesn't mean it isn't valuable; it means you are looking at the wrong place or person for value.


 Yes, Commander's behavior is simply unacceptable, in the White House or anywhere else for that matter, unless you are under attack.

(politics aside)

On January 5th, 2020 Commander is a BAD dog. On January 6th, 2020 there's no other dog I would want by my side. Same dog, different circumstance.

Every dog has equal value when placed in the right time, place, and with the right people. And you are no different.

Just something to think about.

Have a great week.

- Scott