WHOLLY GUACAMOLLY & STEM RUNNING OUT OF STEAM
Do you remember your first day as a teacher?
Mine was August 13, 1990; thirty-five years ago today. The location? East Los Angeles. I was excited to be shaping musical phrases and young minds, finally! If I'm being honest, I wasn't particularly great at either.
My contract was for the princely sum of $22,800. Money was TIGHT, as my first paycheck did not arrive until the first week in October, a full seven weeks into the school year, so much for a signing bonus.
For the math nerds (or those without a calculator handy), that broke down to $2,533.33 per month (nine months), $125 a day (182 contract days), and a staggering sum of $20.83 per hour, or exactly what minimum wage in California is today.
And that was before taxes, Social Security, and benefits.
Like you, I didn't become a teacher for the paycheck, and I knew what I signed up for. I understood I would never experience the riches of being a lawyer, the prestige of being a doctor, or the security of being a coder.
Or would I?
For the past twenty(ish) years, policy makers have been singing the praises of STEM and the future it could promise for our young people. A world so resplendent and plentiful that graduates could expect six-figure salaries, lavish lunch rooms, and kombucha on tap. At the same time, teachers worked two jobs, ate bad cafeteria food, and battled the ancient school copier.
But not any more.
In an ironic twist of "be careful what you wish for," the same coders who built today's AI (artificial intelligence) tools are now watching those tools do their jobs—faster, cheaper, and without the benefits of caffeine, sleep, or a well-appointed break room.
In other words, coders coded themselves out of existence.
In an article in yesterday's New York Times,
Goodbye, $165,000 Tech Jobs. Student Coders Seek Work at Chipotle stated that "Among college graduates ages 22 to 27, computer science and computer engineering majors are facing some of the highest unemployment rates, 6.1 percent and 7.5 percent, respectively. That is more than double the unemployment rate of art history graduates, which is just 3 percent."
You read that right, ART HISTORY!
The article quoted one such graduate, Manasi Mishra, as saying, "I just graduated with a computer science degree, have applied to several thousand jobs, and the only company that has called me for an interview is Chipotle."
Wholly guacamole!
The irony of the situation is hard to miss, and frankly, makes me smirk a wee bit. They automated the very skill set that made them valuable. Now, the same résumés that once guaranteed a seat at the table are being scanned and rejected by the very algorithms they helped design. They succeeded a little toowell—leaving themselves on the wrong side of their own innovation.
Teachers, you ask? The U.S. Department of Labor reports an unemployment rate of 2.8%, which is less than half the unemployment rate for computer coders. Music teachers fall even lower with a reported rate of below 2.1%.
STEM is running out of STEAM, while music teachers live the DREAM!
Okay, maybe "dream" is a stretch, but I needed a rhyme.
Our days are messy and chaotic as we work through and with the hot mess that is un-matured humanity. It's also filled with magical moments, ones that can't be found in zeros and ones, and require us to be able to log in with kids who don't have two-factor identification or a manual. Coders will never see a "light bulb" go on, a student grow, or a group of individuals transform into an ensemble.
Their jobs are binary. There is an absolute right and wrong, and every problem they face has a set of definable parameters and a logical solution.
Our jobs have no such luxury. Music teaching is gloriously and stubbornly imperfect. It's messy and rarely has absolutes other than to be on time and no food in the rehearsal hall. Our job doesn't revolve around binary code, but around making connections, building confidence, and mentoring young people. You're not just teaching notes on a page—you're teaching persistence, leadership, and every other essential skill needed to navigate a successful life.
Unlike coders, we can't be replaced by AI.
AI can't spot the terrified student in the back row, AI can't encourage them to play that first note or make their first sound. It can't know when to push kids harder or when to ease off. It can't teach a saxophonist how to swing like Ellington or explain the beauty of Yo-Yo Ma to a budding cellist. More than anything, it can't mentor, model, or teach a child the value of hard work, discipline, and commitment. Because AI isn't human, it requires a human to teach someone else to be human.
While AI is busy debugging code, you're helping kids debug life. And that takes REAL intelligence and not an ARTIFICIAL one.
Enjoy that thought during your first week back.
Scott