If you live in the Heights, you've surely heard a lot about Reaching Musical Heights in the last several days. And with all good reason. I had the distinct pleasure of attending this every-four-years event where 500 4th through 12th grade vocal and instrumental musicians from all the CH-UH schools performed on the world-renowned Severance Hall stage. Each time I've gone to this show, I've been blown away by the dedication, passion and talent of our district's young people and by the commitment, hard work and willingness to collaborate of our district's teachers. This year was no different.
There were many highlights, including watching my son Braedan and his elementary peers sing an adorable rendition of "Jump, Jive and Wail," complete with a backward-leaning shoulder shimmy. But what really impressed me -- and what was different from past RMH events -- was the powerful and unanimous message sent from our music teachers. As the various groups moved about the stage between numbers, the teachers and Reaching Heights staff took the microphone to introduce songs and thank guests and ostensibly kill time while chairs and music stands were (noisily) shifted into place and students (quietly) filed in and out of risers. But this year, their speeches weren't just time-fillers. They were heartfelt messages, poignant pleas to the audience members to 1) Continue to support -- nay, to demand-- strong arts and music programming for every child at every grade level in our schools (yes, please); and 2) Take a firm stand against the excessive over-testing of our youth and the narrowing of the curriculum that inevitably attends such a short-sighted focus (yes, please!).
Oh, I suppose there might have been some (a few? This is the Heights we're talking about) people in the audience who were there solely to listen to the music and didn't want to hear anyone's political agenda. Our schools and our teachers and our children are under attack by forces so much larger (and so much better funded) than any of us would have dared to imagine just a few years ago. This is a dangerous time for public education, not just here where our schools have been long misunderstood and underestimated, but everywhere.
So, you know what we do? We stand up, together on a stage usually graced by world class musicians, and we sing and we play and we make beautiful music. And we do it together. In a way that says, loud and proud, "This is Tiger Nation."
Photo by Carl Jenks.
One of my favorite moments was when 2012 graduate Geoffrey Golden, the recent winner of BET's Sunday's Best ("the gospel version of American Idol") joined the current students on stage. He spoke of how meaningful and formative his early years in district music programs were, of overcoming adversity and not quitting after his first failed attempt at making it on the show, and of how necessary and important music and arts programs are to keeping kids fully engaged in school. This is a young man who you might assume would try to turn his obvious musical talent into a lucrative career, but is instead an econ major at Morehouse. Economics? Ha, I love that.
After he spoke, he accompanied the gospel choir on piano and then sang a rousing rendition of, well, let's be honest here, I don't know squat about gospel music, but he was darn good. As he backed off the stage to thunderous applause, he shouted something twice into the microphone. People were cheering wildly and I couldn't hear a word he said, but was told by Dallas sitting behind me: "Your work is not in vain."
And that, right there, those six little words, meant everything to me. This was a message to parents, who do more for their children than their children will ever realize, and who do it quietly and without seeking recognition. Your work is not in vain. And a message for teachers, now blamed by conventional wisdom for all of society's failings, who labor and love and bend over backwards for the students in their care. Your work is not in vain. And for those of us who do the volunteer work, the thankless PTA tasks.
We cannot give up on this, we cannot quit, even when the tide seems to turn dangerously against us. Even when public opinion is bent on using illegitimate test scores to measure our collective worth. Test scores that fail to adequately measure the quality of our teachers and the quality of our students. And that certainly -- certainly! -- don't measure the quality of our music programs (among the best in the nation -- why doesn't that generate newspaper headlines, why doesn't that count for getting kids "career ready"?).
I've closed out both of the two recent Heights Coalition for Public Education forums with the same words, the last in a list of ten action steps, and I think they bear repeating:
Stay. Stay engaged, stay informed, stay involved. Stay in our communities, stay in our public schools. These institutions are the cornerstones of our democracy. Moving away, pulling out, or otherwise giving up will not make these problems go away. Work with us to overcome the challenges and to celebrate our successes. Stay, stay, stay.
Your work, our work, is not in vain.