The band plays on

THERE they were. On stage. For the year-end concert. Their parents and grandparents and brothers and sisters and friends and neighbors had all packed into the big auditorium at their school. It happens all over Arkansas, and America, this time of year. Like the flowers, some things have their returning seasons in the midst of all that distracts us, and thank goodness for that.

So maybe the place wasn’t all that big in reality-but to a sixth- or seventh grader on stage, it must’ve seemed like a barn. Or a department store. Or maybe The Met. All those eyes looking up at the stage. All those faces turned in the same direction. All waiting for the music.

Must. Not. Panic.

Only a few months before, most of these kids had never picked up the instruments they now held. Much less read a sheet of music. Now they were expected to hit every note of four songs, and not easy songs at that. One of them was a jazz piece.

Leap to the happy ending: Nobody panicked. They sounded like a high school band. All the parents bragged after the concert. Gosh, they don’t sound like beginners at all.

Thanks to the middle-schoolers for a wonderful evening out. There’s nothing like a live concert in the middle of the week.

Another thanks goes to the band teachers. When commentators and politicians and editorialists and reformers and just plain folks talk about how important teachers are to the state and nation and cite examples like the math teacher and the English teacher and the history teacher, too often they tip-toe around band teachers. (Not to mention art teachers and Spanish teachers, too.)

But you folks, our band teachers, are giving the gift of music-the art of music-to a whole generation of kids. And many of those kids will keep the gift, and the art, all their lives. And they just might pass it on, too. One young lady we saw on the stage the other night was using her grandmother’s flute.

Thank you, thank you, various maestros. (Or is that maestri?) Your work is appreciated. Sometimes we may forget how important, how beautiful, and just how vital your work is. Not tonight.