WHY NOT? #12 - MR. IRRELEVANT & BEING PURDY GOOD

Last week, the NFL conducted its 2024 Draft. A record 750,000 people attended the three-day event in person, and more than 12 million people worldwide watched it on TV. It truly has become quite a spectacle.

The NFL draft is where hope springs eternal; every player believes they are a future hall of famer, and every fan believes this is "their year."

Amidst the excitement and anticipation, there's one player who stands out in a very unexpected way. "Mr. Irrelevant" is the moniker bestowed on the player chosen with the draft's final selection.

Fifty years ago, after a brief stint in the NFL, Paul Salata came up with an interesting idea: What if the NFL celebrated the last pick of the draft the same way it did the first guy off the board? The idea was to celebrate the mere selection of being asked to play in the NFL, but in a fun way, coining the phrase, Mr. Irrelevant.

In an article on ESPN.com Salata stated, "We established Mr. Irrevelent to drive home an important message—that it's not a negative to be picked last in the NFL Draft; rather, it's an honor to be drafted at all. The last draft pick demonstrates perseverance, a lesson that resonates with people everywhere."

One of the latest and greatest examples of this lesson is Brock Purdy, quarterback of the San Francisco 49ers, and Mr. Irrelevant 2022. During his rookie season, after injuries to the starting and backup quarterback, Purdy left the practice squad to lead his team to eight consecutive victories and the NFC Championship game. Were it not for a severe injury he sustained at the start of the game, many believed the 49ers, led by Purdy, would have gone on to win the Super Bowl.

Brock Purdy proves that despite dozens of coaches and scouts, thousands of hours of film study, and dozens of pre-draft workouts, the best of the best still get it wrong. Determining who someone will become is more of an art and less of a science. It's more about will than it is skill.

"He's never had a backup plan," Brock's mom, Carrie Purdy, says. "He wasn't going to be a pharmaceutical sales rep or real estate agent. He was going to be a football player."

Like many of you, I identify with Mr. Irrelevant because early on in my career, I was never seen as or felt like I was 'draft-worthy' as a music educator. 

After auditioning to be a music major, I was not awarded a scholarship and wasn't accepted into the studio. After I got in, I struggled with theory, history, and piano, and I rarely placed in the top ensembles. In short, I had to work and study twice as hard to keep up with my more talented counterparts.

But I didn't give up. I persevered and put in the work. Over time, I watched more qualified candidates and better musicians fade away into other majors while I stayed the course. Like Brock Purdy, for me, there was no backup plan. I would be a music teacher, and a good one—period.

Music Educator is our title. We are musicians and educators—requiring two equally essential but divergent skill sets. Are we musicians first or educators first? What good are music skills if you can't communicate them in an environment conducive to learning? Conversely, what good are classroom control skills if you have no music pedagogy to share when the room is quiet?

We've all seen fine musicians struggle on the podium, and many stellar teachers struggle with an instrument in their hand. Truth be told, most of us are somewhere in between - proficient at both and perfect at neither.

Being a musician is hard. Being an educator is hard. Combined, the job description morphs into something completely different. It's almost impossible to describe and even harder to assess. These qualities are subjective, and the skills required vary based on the levels, content, and area in which you teach.

Despite my desire, I didn't know if I would be a good music educator. And neither did anyone else. Others thought they knew, but they didn't. 

The same holds true for our students. I like to think I know if they will be successful, but I don't know for sure. Just as I would like to believe I surprised some of my professors, I can tell you that there are students who have amazed me.

Remember, after over a decade in the sport, countless coaches, two dozen college games, thousands of game-time reps, hundreds of scouts, general managers, and coaches failed to see Brock Purdy's potential. They saw the mobility, speed, and arm strength but could not see the magic. 

All of you have outpaced, outperformed, and outlived someone else's expectations. Someone placed limitations on you that you did not embrace. At some point and in some way, through your efforts, expectations were exceeded, challenges were overcome, and barriers were broken. This is your super power. 

And it's what makes you Mr. Irrelevant. 

And that's something the NFL thinks is worth celebrating.

Why not?

Have a great week, everyone!

 

Scott

 

WHY NOT? #11 - DEALING WITH VICARIOUSITY

Many of you may know I coached my boys in football for the past fifteen years. I love it, and I'm pretty good at it. In fact, I have an undefeated record of 17-0 in the last two seasons. 

What makes me prouder than my record is that once a boy joins my team, he stays with me for the long haul. 

Over the years, I have kept the same core group of boys for ten-plus years, both for my older and younger sons. I have boys playing D1 college football who still call me "Coach Scott" and ask if we can get the gang back together.

I love every minute of it. It's the closest thing I have that resembles teaching music. I see the same kids, share the same jokes, and build relationships I will remember for the rest of my life, even if they don't.

As a coach, I have witnessed my fair share of sideline antics from parents. And being in a highly competitive league, I have seen more than one former NFL player trying to shape his son into who he was, or even worse, who he failed to be. I have even been physically threatened by one after my amateur team, coached by a former band director, beat his son's club team, coached by former pro players. 

Yes, much like when I taught, being around adults and their children can be as inspiring as it is appalling. 

We've all met at least one parent who lives vicariously through their kids. Maybe you know a dad whose NFL dreams were crushed because of an injury or other career-ending setback. So now, he pushes his son to be the star quarterback so he can once again live the glory of the gridiron through his pre-teen progeny.

Maybe you know a mother who was an Ivy League college reject, and is now writing the wrong dealt to her by hiring expensive tutors and pressuring her kids to become straight-A students to lord over her neighbors, friends, and frankly, anyone and everyone else who will listen. 

From sports dads to stage moms, many of today's parents are pushing their kids to succeed. They often try to get their kids to fulfill their dreams and finish their unfinished business. This goes beyond being a helicopter parent and crosses into dangerously unhealthy territory.

It's called Vicariousity - living one's dream through their child. And it's wrong.

But, I might be guilty of it.

As I type this blog, I am sitting in a coffee shop exactly one mile from where my youngest son is auditioning for his high school's drumline —and I am terrified—truly terrified.

Don't get me wrong—my son will find a place somewhere. His teachers are fantastic and will find a place for every child no matter what. They are intelligent, knowledgeable, and, more importantly, kind. They are everything you would want and hope for your child, and we chose this school largely because of them.

So why am I scared?  

My oldest son did band and enjoyed it. However, the pandemic and a director change derailed his band experience, and he only partially got to experience the transformative experience that is music. His senior year, the choir director snatched him out of a hallway and saved him, but he wandered through high school largely without a home.

I can't have this happen with my youngest son. He NEEDS band.

After my eldest son graduated high school, my wife, who knows nothing about music, said, "I feel bad for you. You waited your whole life to watch your son be in band, and it was stolen from you."

From me? Or, from him?

Perhaps both.

All I know is that I don't care what instrument he plays or what their show is. I don't care what ratings they get or how they finish at competition. I just want him to have what I had: memories, friends, laughter, tears, triumph, heartbreak, and everything else that goes with this incredible activity. I want him to have a group of friends to rely on and a safe space on campus to call his home. 

Or, maybe it's me who needs him to need it. I don't know.

I don't want him to finish what I started; I want him to start what I finished.

If that's Vicariousity, I'll take it.

Why not?

 

Have a great week!

 

Scott

 

WHY NOT? #11 - THE LONG MILE

I am a runner. I always have been. 

I find solace and challenge in the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement. It's just me, my playlist, and time to think. 

Admittedly, I have fallen off the wagon in recent months, but rest assured, I will be back running the streets again soon. 

To be clear, there are sprinters, and there are runners. I am most certainly the latter and not the former.

If you were to race me in a sprint, you would undoubtedly win, as my short legs and slow-twitch muscles almost always leave me in last place, even when racing a parked car. 

However, if we were to run anything more than a mile, you would be hard-pressed to keep up. I have a small frame and an unending motor that can run for hours without much drop-off. I have completed five half marathons and countless 10Ks, but I have yet to attempt the Holy Grail of long-distance running—a full marathon.

 At some point in my life, I was in good enough shape and could knock out 15 miles or more, but I never went the final distance and attempted a marathon, which still haunts me.

There's still hope.

Dubbed "everyman's Everest," long-distance running, once a niche and grueling sport, has exploded in popularity over the past few decades. The most interesting thing is not how many people are running, but who is running. 

According to a New York Times article, "Many of those who run marathons today are middle-aged or older, and some are less fit and less experienced. As a result, the average finish time in American marathons has slowed considerably, even as the top runners keep getting faster. It's a sign of how popular marathons have become."

This article states that the average finish time in the Boston Marathon 1924 was just under three hours. However, in the recent race held on Monday, the average finish time was nearly four hours, representing almost a 33% drop off. Interestingly, despite this trend, speed course records are set yearly. 

The article suggests that many races are becoming less strict about entrants' credentials to attract more participants. This was the case for Andy Sloan, 36, who registered for his first marathon in Honolulu last year. Although he finished last, completing the course in 16 hours 59 minutes 39 seconds, Sloan found more meaning in the support from the cheering crowds than in hitting a specific goal time during his training.


"To feel supported the whole way, even though I was the last person on the course, felt really, really good," he told me. "Knowing that I took the time to set a goal, and worked really hard to achieve it, it did mean a lot to me."

Running is a unique activity that brings professional athletes and amateurs together on the same course and day. It's an opportunity for enthusiasts to stand alongside the pros and push toward the finish line, even if their times differ significantly.

Music and marathons share this quality in many ways. Although we may all play the same instruments and music, our performances are vastly different. Whether gifted or not, professional or amateur, we all have reasons for playing.

However, too often, we celebrate only the most accomplished musicians, forgetting about the rest of the ensemble. It's similar to how we only remember famous runners like Jim Fixx while overlooking other participants. We must remember that, as with marathons, the goal of music-making is not always to finish first but to persevere until the end.

As music educators, we often prioritize those who successfully cross the finish line of a program or graduation ceremony. While we take pride in those who have persevered and achieved, we should remember that over half of those who start do not reach the end. Moreover, we mistakenly treat graduation as the ultimate goal, when in reality, it is more comparable to a 10K race - a notable milestone but not the end of the journey towards a lifetime of musical creativity.

During an open forum with renowned marathon runner Jim Fixx, an amateur runner approached the microphone and marveled, "I can't comprehend how you can run so fast for three hours." Mr. Fixx responded with his own question, "I have no idea; how can you run for six hours?" 

 

In athletics, as in life, there is a tendency to remember the professional who answers the question rather than the amateur who asked it.

 Instead of solely celebrating the top ensembles, players, and performances, we should also focus on the youngest ensembles, weakest players, and worst performances. By doing so, we can equally recognize an ensemble's musicality and longevity.

As music educators, we excel at celebrating the best. However, we should also strive to remember to celebrate the worst and to encourage them never to stop trying to reach the same finish line.

Why not?

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead.

 

Scott

WHY NOT? #10 - MY 401K AND SHORT-TERM PAIN


Since this upcoming Monday is Tax Day, let's continue on that theme for this week.  

My taxes are complicated, like solving a 10 sided Rubix Cube while blindfolded complicated.
 
Let me explain, or at least try to.

Scott Lang Leadership is an LLC (Limited Liability Company) that files quarterly as an S-Corp with returns due on March 15th. 

Scott Lang, the S-Corp, pays Scott Lang, the employee, a W2 wage - it is my salary (and I deserve a raise).

 These earnings pass on to my personal taxes via a K-1 flow-through using a W2 and are combined with Be Part of the Music and Music FUNdations using Schedule C for my personal returns. This part of my returns are due on April 15th.

Last week, while preparing my taxes, my accountant and financial planner struggled to agree on how to interpret my 401K. It turns out that our tax code is more like a musical score than a textbook. Every conductor and financial person interprets it differently. 

One such area that is open to interpretation is retirement accounts. As a solopreneur, I have an independent 401K, which allows me to contribute both as an employee and an employer. The difference? Taxes. 

For those unaware, there are two types of taxes when dealing with retirement accounts: short-term and long-term, and the difference is significant.

 Musically speaking, short-term capital gains taxes resemble a Rick Astley tune. Its life span and time on the charts are less than one year, so the taxman, hoping to deter Rick from repeating it, takes a more significant chunk of the profits. Now you understand the muse for Never Gonna Give You Up.

Long-term capital gains taxes are more like a Copland Symphony—classics that have withstood the test of time (longer than a year). So the taxman, wanting more of this type of thinking, takes a smaller chunk of the earnings, making Aaron want to Hoe Down.

The difference lies in the duration of ownership—short-term gains (under one year) are subject to higher tax rates than long-term gains.

Last week, I proffered that tax codes are as much about behavior modification as revenue generation. I stand by that. By taxing long-term capital gains at a much lower rate, the government is incentivizing you to save your money, and rely less on them. Win-win. 

The lesson learned? Short-term matters, but long-term matters more for you and our country.

 In education, we favor the short-term over the long-term by focusing on:

  • daily/weekly attendance

  • Individual class grades

  • GPAs

  • Single-game wins and losses

  • SAT/ACT scores

  • College acceptance rates

  • Graduation rates

In music, we aren't much better as we focus on:

  • Our next rehearsal

  • Our next concert

  • Our next contest

  • Individual chair placement

  • Next year's incoming class/enrollment

  • Number of all-region/all-state kids

Yes, all of these matter, but they are short-term (under a year) and do not favor a long-term look at the value proposition of (music) education.

As an advocate who understands the value of participation in music, I know the numbers, but they are mostly short-term. What if we studied and understood the long-term impacts of participating in school music programs. For instance, what if we knew the effect of music in the following areas:

  • Lifetime marriage & divorce rates

  • Career types and duration

  • Lifetime income differential

  • Number of college degrees

  • Volunteer hours

  • Voting rates

  • Days spent incarcerated

  • Days spent unemployed

  • And so much more

I would also be interested to know more about the quality of that life, such as:

  • Mental health

  • Happiness

  • Unhealthy behaviors

  • Drug and alcohol dependency

  • Vacation/travel

  • Number of languages spoken

We want all young people to lead happy, prosperous, and productive lives. However, to fully understand music's impact on a child's life, our tax code shows us the right way to think about it. Short-term matters, but long-term matters more.

We need to study the entire life of someone who has participated in a school music program and value the long-term gains more than the short-term ones. 

Why not?

 

WHY NOT? #9 - THE NERDS AND THE BEES

After almost two decades of colony collapse and years of inexplicably clean windshields, our eco-friendly flying friend is making a comeback. And that has people buzzing. 

Last week, the new numbers from the latest Census of Agriculture (when the government counts everything animal and agricultural two-by-two) showed that America's honeybee population has flown to an all-time high.

According to the report, since an inexplicable and precipitous decline in 2007, the United States has added almost a million bee colonies in the past five years, hitting a new high of 3.8 million hives. Bees are now the fastest-growing livestock segment in the country.

Simply stated, honeybees are BACK, and that is some sweet news!

Why are they back, and where did these swarms come from? The answers are as informative as they are interesting. Let's start with the latter, as it will explain the former.

In studying the data, much of the resurgence came in just one state: Texas. Since 2012, the Lone Star State has gone from having the sixth-most hives in the country to being so far ahead of anyone else that it out-bees the bottom 21 states combined. Further data analysis shows that the most significant increases came in north Texas, a region not traditionally considered a honeybee hotbed. We can thank one man for this.

When you meet Dennis Herbert, it is clear that he is not a political mover and shaker. Herbert, a retired wildlife biologist, boasts no fancy connections and drops no names. Despite lacking training or experience, he headed to the Texas State House dressed in blue jeans, a button-down shirt, and a sweat-stained ball cap and laid out a simple hypothetical.

In an article in the New York Times, Mr. Herbert describes the situation in the following way:
"You own 200 acres on the other side of the fence from me, and you raise cotton for a living. You get your ag valuation and cheaper taxes on your property. I have 10 acres on the other side of the fence and raise bees, and I don't receive my ag valuation. And yet my bees are flying across the fence and pollinating your crops and making a living for you, and I just never thought that quite fair."

In 2012, the Herbert hypothetical gave rise to a new law: if you keep five or more hives for five years on a five-acre (or larger) plot of land, you qualify for agricultural tax breaks. Over the next few years, all 254 Texas counties adopted similar bee rules.

 The key to reviving this eco-saving insect wasn't changing environmental codes but tax codes.

In under two weeks, Americans will participate in the annual rite of wealth transfer, known as filing their taxes. They say death and taxes are the only certainties in life, and you can only put off one.

At its most elemental level, taxes are about revenue generation. Just as important, taxes are about mass behavioral change. Think about it. Do you want more people to:

  • Stop smoking?

  • Drive less?

  • Drink less?

  • Save more?

  • Donate to charities?

Additionally, do you want businesses to:

  • Bring jobs to your city?

  • Invest in research and development?

  • Hire more people?

  • Give back to the community?

The answer to all of this and more lies in our tax code. It's simple: we incentivize behaviors we like and de-incentivize those we don't.

It seems pretty straightforward. 

So, following the lead of Mr. Herbert, I have a simple hypothetical of my own for you to ponder upon. 

(Imagine me in cowboy attire and with a Texas drawl.)

"You got 2000 kids on the other side of the fence from me, and you raise students for a living. You get a STEM valuation at cheaper costs on your side. I have 200 kids on the other side of the fence and raise good kids, and I don't receive my valuation. And yet my students are flying across the fence and helping create a good school and making a living for you, and I just never thought that quite fair."

So, I suggest we make income gained from teaching (salaries) non-taxable. Tax-free like the honeybee.

 Think about it. Do you want to:

  • Reverse the decline of people becoming teachers?

  • Increase the number of applicants?

  • Increase the depth and experience of applicants?

  • Fill classrooms with only the best educators?

If you answered yes, let's follow the flight of our furry little friends. Change the tax code.

When it comes to music, I have always said, "I haven't found a problem yet that can't be made better with more kids." The same is true for teachers. More teachers lead to better teachers. Better teachers lead to better kids. So ask yourself, do you want:

  • More engaged students and parents?

  • Higher G.P.A.'s?

  • Less drugs and alcohol?

  • Fewer discipline issues?

  • More kids getting scholarships?

Don't develop a moral code; develop a tax code.

If we know music makes better kids, and better kids make for better schools, shouldn't we incentivize participation in music? Why not:

  • Make buying an instrument deductible?

  • Remove sales tax on music-related products?

  • Make lessons a write-off?

  • Credit time spent in after-school rehearsals?

Remember, taxes are about revenue generation and behavior modification. Yes, my proposal would reduce the government's income, which gets sticky, but look at what we would save. What would the cost-benefit be of needing fewer:

  • Administrators

  • Security guards

  • Discipline deans

  • Summer school teachers

  • Drop-out prevention coordinators

Additionally, what would the cost-benefit be of having more:

  • Engaged students

  • Efficient passing periods

  • Involved parents

  • High school graduates

  • College applicants

In short, the savings achieved by having better educators and more students involved in music FAR outpaces the revenue lost by incentivizing music teachers and students to participate.

If you are a tree-hugging liberal, you are filling the world with music. If you are a fiscal conservative, you are saving money and making better schools. WIN-WIN!

So, I say we follow the lead of our little friend, the bee, and make music teaching and music-making completely tax-free. 

 And, I'm not pollen your leg.

Why not?

Have a great week.

 

-Scott







© SCOTT LANG LEADERSHIP 2024 - all rights reserved







 

WHY NOT? #8 - LESSONS FROM THE TOOTH FAIRY

Delta Dental has been tracking tooth fairy trends for 26 years and is sounding the alarm regarding their (not sure which pronoun to use) fiscal viability.  

According to their annual survey, for the first time since 2019, our little friend is paying out less than in previous years. 

Specifically, the tooth fairy's average gift value for a single lost tooth dropped 6% to $5.84 from $6.23 last year. Want to know more? According to the latest study:

  • The survey found that the average value of a first tooth is $7.09, down from $7.29 in 2023.

  • The Northeast average was $6.87, up 12%, and surpassed the national average by more than $1.

  • The South dropped from $6.59 to $5.51 this year, under the national average.

  • The Midwest has the lowest value of a lost tooth at $3.63, a $2 and 36% drop from 2023.

  • Lost teeth in the West had the highest value at $8.54, a 37% increase from last year, according to the survey of 1,000 parents of children ages 6 to 12.

 How could the value of a tooth be so disparate depending on where you live? Are teeth in the Midwest somehow less valuable? Is there a glut of tooth inventory driving down the market? Are teeth in the West a more prized commodity?  Are overhead and personnel costs in fairy unionized states that much higher?

Given that the commodity is known, predictable, and can be depreciated over its seven-year lifespan, how do we not have a formal plan and budget for replacement?

I am not talking about teeth anymore. I am talking about instruments.

According to the State of Music Education Survey (SoME):

  • 55% of music teachers reported no budget support for instrument replacement.

  • 63% reported no budget support for repairs.

  • 77% reported no standard depreciation/replacement schedule for instruments.

  • 55% reported no standard depreciation/replacement schedule for uniforms.

  • 53% reported needing parent support, with 53% of their operating budget coming from parents.

  • Those with budgets reported per-pupil averages of just $21.00 for instrument repair and $46.00 for replacement.

To be clear, that means you will need eight or more years of a child in music to afford a typical uniform and two hundred students to be able to purchase one sousaphone.

How is this possible? Are we not a core curriculum? Do we not meet during the school day for credit? Don't schools have a responsibility to provide an appropriate learning environment? 

After all, we have standard replacement schedules for textbooks, buses, and football uniforms. And as long as we are talking about equity, I don't remember the science department ever having to hold a car wash to buy microscopes or Petri dishes or the math department asking parents to help pay for textbooks.

Similar to teeth, we have a good idea of the life cycle of a tuba, timpani, and trumpet. These costs are not unexpected. Like buses, we have a good idea of a proper maintenance schedule for a bassoon, bass drum, and bass clarinet.

Why is there no standardized budget for music?
Why is it so different in different places?
Why is music being treated differently than other curricula?
Why is it not annualized so we can plan long-term?

I am not being unreasonable or asking for an excessive amount. I am simply saying that providing an appropriate and equitable learning experience for every child requires an appropriate and equitable set of resources.

Instead, we plan short-term, hoping to avoid necessary and routine expenses, with no long-term plan or financial stability.

So we run car washes, sell cookie dough, and start GoFundMe pages. Despite our best care and diligent maintenance, you will incur these costs if you have young people who use their instruments. As responsible adults, we should have a consistent, standardized, and equitable plan so all children have the same joyful experience.

Why not?

Oh, I am talking about the tooth fairy now.

Have a great week everyone.

Scott

WHY NOT? #6 - AI 4 PD!

I write a lot. And I mean a lot.

In addition to this article, I need to finish and proofread ten forward-facing pieces of content, a marketing campaign, and a press release. I also need to write the text for the four videos I need to shoot tomorrow.

As I said, I write a lot. And despite all of my years of practice, apparently, I am bad at it.

Don't believe me? Read below.
I know what you are thinking - "Scott, I find your prose effortless, witty, insightful, and a joy to read!" 

Well, someone would beg to differ! And their name is Grammarly.

As I said, I write a lot. When coupled with a lack of time and personal shortcomings, the volume and demand can sometimes mean that my writings require... 

Let's call it refinement.

So, before sending anything out, I run it through my editor and a writing software called Grammarly. Over the years, the two of them have saved you from reading far too many guffaws,  and me countless hours of work.

At least, I thought they were countless. Apparently, Grammarly does some counting in addition to editing.

Yesterday, I received an update from Grammarly - a report card of sorts, and my grades were not good. I did not ask for their review, but they sent it anyway. It was a bit jarring and insulting to read.  The header graphic is above.

Accurate? Well, yes, but I was still crushed.

Seriously? They have the never to tell me every mistake I have ever made? That's my children's job! And keeping score is for spouses. Since you are neither, and I didn't ask for your opinion, how about you suck on a power surge!

To its credit, Grammarly tried to be nice. The subject line of the email read, "Prepare to be impressed." However, Grammarly was clearly not (impressed). The first line of the analysis was, "Well done! You were more productive than 77% of Grammarly users." Seriously, 23% write more than me? Is James Patterson on here? James Jordan?

And it quickly went down hill after that.  

According to this AI interloper, in the past week alone I have received over 1,000 suggestions for corrections—some of which I ignored. It also noted that my accuracy rate was in the lower half of Grammarly users, and I used more "unique" ( I think they mean "made-up") words than 88% of my more author-minded peers.

So I'm dumb, talk to much, and make stuff up.

 

Ouch, that hurt. True? Yes! But, did you have to use numbers and everything? Numbers are why I don't step on scales, do my taxes, or take IQ tests.

 

But, G-man (I assigned Grammarly a gender, since it's an arrogant jerk, we can all agree it's likely a man, and plays the trumpet) didn't take his foot off the gas there. He pressed the pedal to the medal.

 

Want to know my top five mistakes? I DIDN'T - but you guessed it, they shared them with me them anyway. According to jerkface, they are (in order):

 

1.    Missing periods
2.    Incorrect use of quotation marks 
3.    Missing commas in compound sentences
4.    Missing closing punctuation 
5.    Unnecessary ellipsis 

 

Ok, #3 is fair. And if were being honest, how "misuse of semi-colon" didn't make the list is beyond me, because I have NO idea when to use that sucker.

 

But ellipse? Who doesn't love an ellipse? It's such a valuable and playful punctuation mark.

 

After the initial shock faded, I began to see a parallel between my new nemesis and myself—the parallel between Grammarly's job and ours. We both make suggestions to help others fix things that are wrong.

 

Think about your last rehearsal. We're most of your comments negative? Were you coming from a place where your knowledge exceeded others? Did you offer an opinion that wasn't asked for? Did you make lots of corrective suggestions? 

In my household, we call that Tuesday, or any other day.


What if we counted them all the way Grammarly did? What would we discover? For instance, yesterday, how many:

 

Wrong notes did you fix?

Wrong rhythms did you correct?

Articulations did you change?

Behaviors did you modify?

Adjustments did you make?



And if we're brutally honest, how many:



Intonation problems did you miss?

Bad postures did you ignore?

Minutes did you waste?

Words did you needlessly use?

Negative comments did you say?

Similar to my experience with Grammarly, the results would likely be jarring, but it does bring up an interesting idea.

Why not let AI assess our instruction?

We're not far from it. For all I know, we may already be there. If we were not, at the pace AI is developing, we're not far from it. So let me ask it again: Why not have AI assess us, not just at the end of the day or class period, but in real time?

As I write this, Grammarly is giving me feedback in real time. What if, as we taught, we received instantaneous feedback on our performance as teachers?

We're closer than you think. After all, we already use tuners, metronomes, and midi-files. We have tone generators, electronic drill, and music assessment software.

"But Scott, a computer can't assess the  tone of a teacher's voice and understand feelings."

Wrong! 

According to Grammarly, my writing is admirable, curious, personal, informal friendly, and not at all assertive!

Those qualities are EXACTLY what I am going for in the Why Not series and my writing in general.

NAILED IT!

If AI can comprehensively assess our students and our performance, shouldn't we consider using this? Don't we want that information? Aren't we trying to improve our ensembles and refine our teaching skills? As painful as it is, shouldn't we get ongoing feedback that helps us to hone our craft?

What would yesterday's report say?

How would you use it?

What grade would you get?

How would it make you feel?

Would it be helpful or hurtful?

What would it say about who we are and how we teach?

I don't know your answers, but I do know that it would be more informative than any of my other evaluations.

 Should AI be doing our PD?

Why not?

Scott 

p.s. I was going to include a snarky comment about Grammarly spell-checking its name, but I was misspelling it. UGH! That's not going to help my accuracy score.

 

© SCOTT LANG LEADERSHIP 2024 - all rights reserved


 

"WHY NOT?" #5 - END THIS MUSIC EDUCATION DEGREE

This is #5 in a series that rethinks music education by asking, "Why Not?"


After almost every workshop, a student will approach me and share their desire to be a music teacher. Whether they are sharing it in hopes of affirmation or to declare their aspiration, I always share the same response:

"Other than raising two children, getting a degree in music education is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life."

It is a worthy thing indeed, but extraordinarily difficult, like opening a plastic blister pack blindfolded while folding a fitted sheet type of difficult. Likely, you are smarter than me and did not suffer the slings and arrows of music theory the way I did, but the evidence sides with me. I started with 136 music majors on day one of basic music theory and graduated four and a half years later with just three of them. Some may have made it in four years (not likely), while some may have graduated after me (maybe a couple). The rest? 

They fell by the wayside, dropped out, or just came to their senses and decided that was not the life for them.

Can you blame them? Ever wished you joined them?

I am unsure if the requirements for a degree in music education are rooted in teacher preparation or designed to weed out those who lack the fortitude, tenacity, and grit it takes to survive and thrive in this profession. Either way, it's doing its job. 

 Don't believe me? A typical bachelor's degree in the United States consists of 120 hours. My Bachelor's Degree in Music Education? One hundred and forty-six hours! And I did not change majors or take a single class that was not required for graduation.

Yep, the same degree my pals in the business school received required me to complete an extra year of college, adding time, expense, and strain they did not have to endure.

You are severely mistaken if you think the educational delta differential ends at credit hours. So for this e-zine, I dug up my transcript and discovered that as a part of my pathway to the podium, I attended:

  • Seventy-two classes (average degree is 40), averaging 2.02 credits (33% less than other classes).

  • An average of 17.5 hours a semester, plus summer school two summers.

  • Ten required classes that offered zero credits.

  • Twenty-six required classes meeting more than once a week for just a single credit.

  • Two years of marching band, meeting six days a week for one credit.

  • Five semesters of music theory, meeting five days a week for three credits.

  • Two hours of practicing a day, in addition to homework.

  • Two semesters of student teaching (a full-time job) for nine credits.

  • Ninenty-two night time or weekend performances/events.

All while working as a bartender to pay for my tuition.

I do not share this for your admiration or adoration, as I know that you endured the same things. We are kindred spirits in that way. So let me repeat, for me:

Getting a degree in music education is the second hardest thing I have done in my life.

In fact, to my way of thinking, getting a degree in music education makes you better at everything in your life. As a part of your job, you learn to:

  • Work with kids and adults. 

  • Speak publicly and write effectively.

  • Plan for the future, but think on your feet.

  • Manage millions of dollars in budgets, facilities, and equipment.

  • Hire, fire, and supervise adult and juvenile staff.

  • Analyze complex situations and adjust on the fly.

  • Receive feedback and constructive criticism from peers.

  • Create art and facilitate the steps needed to realize it.

And so much more. I genuinely believe that getting a degree in music education will make you a better person, parent, and anything else you decide to do with your life. At least it did for me.

I just don't think it should be a bachelor's - it should be a master's.

Why not eliminate the bachelor's degree and (for the exact same requirements/credits) award a master's degree? Think about it:

  • A master's degree is an additional thirty hours, twenty-six of which are completed.

  • I completed seventy-six classes, exceeding the requirements for a master's degree.

  • A undergraduate degree in music education is designed to be an extra eighteen months - similar to that a Master's.

  • I have real work experience over a year (student teaching).

  • If credits are awarded by the number of hours met, I would have over two hundred credits, equivalent to a doctorate. 

So, today, I am proposing to eliminate the Bachelor of Music Education degree and replace it with a Masters Degree.

 This would:

  • Provide an immediate pay bump for music educators.

  • Reward for increased workload and hours associated with the job.

  • Clearly and demonstrably demonstrate that this is a five+ year program.

  • Provide an immediate and permanent pay increase resulting in a lifetime benefit of over $150,000.

  • Help attract and retain more music teachers.

  • Reduce the time and financial demands of continuing education credits.

  • Elevate the status of the degree and our profession.

While we're at it - since my Masters Degree in Education Administration and Policy Studies left me just three classes and a dissertation short of my doctorate, I am also proposing that (since we already have a master's degree), when coupled with a dissertation, the current master's should be awarded as a doctorate.

The math associated with credit/classes/time adds up.

It saves students money and earns teachers more money.

It helps to attract and retain music teachers.

And, I believe is the right thing to do.

So, why not?

Have a great week, everyone.

Dr. Scott (see what I did there?)

 

p.s. The rules surrounding capitalization and the possessiveness of degrees are oddly specific and wildly inconsistent. I followed the rules as best as I understood them.

 

© SCOTT LANG LEADERSHIP 2024 - all rights reserved

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Why Not #4 - Getting Rid of the Stink!

During the global pandemic, tens of millions of employees were sent to work from home without knowing if or when they would return.

Nearly four years later, uncertainty, variant strains, and the burden of child care meant that most of these remote employees were still working from home in some manner - and their employers would like them to return.

But the employees don't seem to be interested in returning.

Nearly four years later, uncertainty, variant strains, and the burden of child care meant that most of these remote employees were still working from home in some manner - and their employers would like them to return.

Are you looking for travel stipends? Work has got you covered. Complimentary meals and fancy coffee carts? Done! Free on-site child care and dry cleaning? Absolutely. For many employees, though, it's still not enough. One company has taken it to the next level. 

You say working in the office stinks? Well, this company aims to solve that problem as well. They are changing the way the office smells.

Since 2022, Hines, a commercial real estate company with skyscrapers worldwide, has developed a particular scent that they began quietly pumping into the HVAC system in Houston headquarters. This year, it is rolling out the fragrance in more than 20 other office buildings in Chicago, New York, London, and Delhi, India.

Companies already populate offices with sensory-stimulating designs such as greenery, ample natural light, and soothing white noise. Now, the office is getting a nose job.

Hines aims for aromatherapy to enhance worker well-being, explains co-CEO Laura Hines-Pierce. "Our mindset is, 'How can we reframe how people think about the office?'" says Whitney Bossin Burns, senior vice president of global client strategy at Hines. "If we can make it a place where people can associate positive memories with it, we need to do that in every possible realm."

"Each note was thoughtfully selected," she says, "to ensure that walking into a Hines space creates a sense of belonging." 

The company's signature scent took over a year to perfect and incorporates 35 ingredients, which are said to improve happiness and confidence, alleviate anxiety, fight fatigue, and help employees learn tasks faster.

Incentives, perks, and positive environments increase morale, engagement, and attendance. Why don't we use them in (music) education?

 Don't we want those same things for kids? Aren't all schools striving for increased happiness and engagement? Don't we want to lower anxiety and increase attendance? Don't we want kids to learn faster?

It seems to pass the sniff test to me.

As someone who has renovated two high schools, I can speak to how the environment (natural light, temperature, air quality) can significantly impact academic performance. Yet, we invest very little in building schools, and even less in maintaining them.

And what about the perks? What do we offer to entice and reward engaged, motivated, and successful (music) students to stay in the public school system? Everyone knows that these melody makers are the poster children for engagement and the model of attendance and performing academically better than their non-musical peers.

What are we doing to attract and retain our best and incentivize others to perform at similar levels? Why don't we invest in those who invest in the school? What if, as a reward to those who do and an incentive to those who don't, we offered music kids:

  • Free meals before rehearsals

  • Subsidies to cover gas for after-school events

  • First shot at scheduling future classes

  • Subsidies for reeds, sticks, strings and rosin

  • Flex scheduling

  • Early graduation

  • Better campus parking

  • Bonuses for making honor groups

  • Extra release periods

  • Free online courses to free up their schedule

  • Graduated diplomas

  • Free lessons

If we're being selfish, what's in it for the music educator who often works longer hours, more weekends and nights, and for little to no extra pay? How about:

  • Bonuses for increased enrollment

  • Stipends for summer work

  • Reimbursement for tuxedos and other equipment

  • Paid professional development

  • Meal reimbursement for night rehearsals

  • Upgraded office furniture

  • Marketing and administration support

  • Better busses for trips and games

  • Technology allowances

Or a thousand other things we could do for music students and teachers to achieve the results we want to achieve.  

Remember those remote employees (who receive salaries) still have to be incentivized with free food and coffee to come to work? Well, I have a kid who hates going to school so much that I have to bribe him with Chipotle. If they served over-stuffed burritos for lunch instead of slop, he might fight me to be first in the carpool lane.

People young and old want to enjoy their surroundings and get paid well for what they do - in money, grades, opportunities, friendships and many other ways. High school athletes are paid to play through Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL) deals.

If we want to make our schools the best possible version of themselves, they have to attract and retain the best students. All of which is to say...

Why not "pay" the music kids?  Any why not incentivize music teachers to stay in the profession. That would definitely pass the sniff test for me - and you too!

Have a great week.

 

Scott

 

© SCOTT LANG LEADERSHIP 2024 - all rights reserved

 

 

Lottery Learnings and Why Not? #3

According to a recent report on NPR, one in eight Americans buy a lotto ticket every week. Additionally, statistics show that Americans spent $105.26 billion on lottery tickets last year, making it the most popular form of gambling in the U.S. 

This massive number is expected to double to $194.14 billion by 2025. That's a whole lot of scratch(ers)!

Despite the odds of winning being astronomically small (1 in 302.6 million, to be exact), every week, people across the country line up at local quick marts to purchase tickets in the hopes of scoring the Mega Millions jackpot. It defies all common logic. Under normal circumstances, no sane person would use their money with such a slight chance of return on investment. For context, before you win the Lottery, you're more likely to:

  • Be killed by a shark

  • Win an Olympic medal

  • Get struck by lightning

  • Be accepted into Harvard

  • Die from a bee sting

  • Become a movie star

Do those seem relatively plausible for an average American? Still thinking of buying a ticket? Okay, here are a few more (un)likely scenarios. You are more likely to:

  • Be fatally struck by a meteor

  • Become President

  • Survive a plane crash

  • Die by vending machine

  • Be canonized as a Saint

  • Have quadruplets

Yep, quadruplets. Heck, if you have four college tuitions to pay for, you NEED to win the Lottery - and as a parent of two boys, anyone with four infants already qualifies for Sainthood in my book. 

Death by vending machine? We may need more details on that, but back to the lotto.

As people shell out their sheckles and number their numbers, ticket holders fully understand and readily admit they know they're throwing their money away. And yet they buy. Why?

Dan Field, a therapist specializing in gambling, says, "The lottery holds such a prominent place in American culture because it gives people the opportunity to indulge in fantasies about how their lives could change if they win."

In other words, it provides hope.  

Hope for a better life and all of the promise it brings. Freedom from financial burdens. The ability to care for their families and loved ones. The ability to be unregulated and do what they want, when they want, how they want.

Yes, that is something we all dream about; however, in some places, we do more than dream. Despite being a ubiquitous hope, we participate in the Lottery at varying levels depending on where we live. The following five states spend more money on lottery tickets than anywhere else in America:

Florida        $9.08 Billion
New York    $8.59 Billion
California    $8.42 Billion
Texas           $8.10 Billion
Georgia       $5.88 Billion

Notice any similarities among the states listed above?

They all have very fine Music Education Conventions. 

That's what you noticed, right?

Okay, so we know these "go big or go home" states are like random games of chance. Let's see if they're all talk or if they really walk the lotto walk. 

What if these (and any other) states used a lottery to pick ensembles to perform at their State Conventions? 

Yep, I am talking about some person in formal wear, a machine with balls carrying school names, and a drum roll. That seems like Must-See TV to me. You know you would tune in, and so would I.

Why would we select based on chance and not performance criteria? For the same reason, the Lottery chooses winners based on chance - IT PROVIDES HOPE.

Let's go back to the things that are more likely to happen before you win the Lottery: becoming President, surviving a plane crash, death by vending machine, etc. 

That's right! They all have very fine Music Education Conventions. 

(That's what you noticed, right?)

For some music educators, the feeling of futility might be similar. They know that tomorrow will be the same as today. They expect that someone else will be selected. They understand that others are better suited or situated to be successful. They want to believe they are worthy, seen, and valued. People stand in line for lottery tickets and MEA concerts for the same reasons.

HOPE. 

They hope to be on that stage. They hope to play that level of literature. They hope to have that equipment, support, parent involvement, and lessons program. They hope to stand in front of a group that sounds like that and is honored by their colleagues.

They have HOPE.

In this way, the Lottery is better than music education because it offers equal opportunities to every person who plays, regardless of their location, age, or socio-economic status.

Music education chooses based on performance criteria that may be skewed based on school location, experience level, and amount of money. 

So, you can see where a music educator might feel better served to spend three dollars on a scratcher than three dollars mailing a recording of their group to a selection committee.

 

So I ask again, what would happen if we randomly chose performers for music education events?

Will some ensembles lack proper instrumentation? Likely.

Will the level of literature be reduced? Possibly.

Will some performances be different? Absolutely.


Let's also consider the possibility that:


Will forgotten programs will be remembered? Likely.

Will under-represented communities will be empowered? Possibly. 

Will more educators and students feel seen and heard? Absolutely.

We could choose at least some performing groups by Lottery. What would be the harm? Yes, we would see imperfect humans, led by an imperfect teacher, who give imperfect performances. Isn't that what (music) education is about?

Performing at a state or national conference is an honor and a deserving opportunity. Unlike the lotto, I don't think we are honoring or providing the same opportunities for everyone.

So, what do you say to a performance lottery? You might not win the Mega-Millions, but you might help them. 
Why not?

Have a great week, everyone. Jump on the FB group and share your thoughts.

-Scott

© SCOTT LANG LEADERSHIP 2024 - all rights reserved