Music, Creativity and the 21st Century Workforce

In our increasingly fast paced, interconnected global economy and world community, every issue we face is becoming more complex. Whether these issues are local or global and regardless of whether they relate to health care, the environment, governance, poverty, science, technology or international relations, the challenges we face in this increasingly interconnected and multilayered world are becoming more complicated. That being the case, the only way to effectively address these increasingly complex issues is to develop in our populace, a corresponding increase in creativity. To paraphrase Albert Einstein, if we are to solve the problems we have created, we must think at a higher level than when we created them.

John Kao, in his book Jamming: The Art and Discipline of Business Creativity, sums up the notion of the importance of creativity in the business world: “This is the age of creativity because companies are increasingly obliged to rapidly reinvent themselves to achieve growth.” (Kao, 1996, p. 10)

He elaborates further:
All this is risky. Unavoidably so. When the alto sax player starts a solo, he doesn’t know where he is going, let alone how far and for how long. His inner voice to which the music, other players, the setting, and even the listeners contribute-directs him. That’s the nature of improvisation, and companies that aren’t willing to take risks are not long for this fluid, protean, constantly changing world. Companies that shun creative risks may be undercut by competitors not only with better products and services, but also with better processes and ways of perceiving new opportunities. Escaping the stagnation of the status quo, of the risk free life, is part of the exhilaration of jamming-in music and in business. The choice is stark. Create or fail. (Kao, pp. xix, xx)

That being the case, a major focus of our education system must be on instilling in the populace a greater sense of, and capacity for, creativity. A creative mindset is not something that you either have or don’t have. Creativity can be developed and nurtured. Kao concurs: “Like jazz, creativity has its vocabulary and conventions. As in jazz, too, its paradoxes can create tension. It demands free expressiveness and disciplined self-control, solitude in a crowded room, acceptance and defiance, serendipity and direction. And like jazz, creativity is a process, not a thing; and therefore you can observe, analyze, understand, replicate, teach, and, yes, even manage it.” (Kao, 1996, p. xix)

In short, people who are never encouraged to “think outside the box” will not be inclined to do so. Similarly, nurturing creativity requires the courage to question pre-existing assumptions and models. If children are never challenged to “break the mold” or question existing paradigms, they won’t.

If the development of a creative workforce is key to our nation’s future economic, scientific and geopolitical success, then educational and community leaders must consider which subjects and activities are best suited for encouraging and developing the creative potential of students. And by all indications, the most effective tool in our educational arsenal to teach creativity is music. If that is the case, why is it that when school budget cuts are necessary, music is often one of the first activities to be cut?

Clearly, we must, in the spirit of Albert Einstein, begin to think at a higher level when it comes to school funding and program priorities.

Brain on Football vs. Brain on Music

Picture this. A magnified image of a cross section of the human brain. The image shows hundreds of tiny brownish bits. These bits are toxic proteins, called tau, that form after brain trauma.  Tau can inhibit cellular functions in the brain, leading to depression, dementia and amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (better known as Lou Gehrig’s disease) and chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a degenerative brain disease.

Now, picture this. Another magnified image. This one shows activities associated with vibrant cellular connections. The brain is seemingly swarming with activity, actually brightening the image.

The first image is of the brain of a former football player. The formation of the tau is the result of hundreds, if not thousands, of repeated hits to the head. These violent hits, in effect, shake or “scramble” the brain, flooding it with chemicals that deaden cellular receptors and tear neural connections linked to learning and memory. In short, the connections necessary for optimal brain function and development are being shaken loose. 

The second image is of the brain while a person is playing music. Brain function is about connections between cells and neurons. Healthy brains have strong, clear and vibrant connections. Research tells us that playing music triggers activity in cells and neurons in the brain that are linked to concentration, memory and creativity, thus refining the development of the brain and the entire neurological system.  Further, playing music not only strengthens these connections but creates new connections, thus widening the brain’s neural network. That activity virtually bursts through the second image.

There has been an increasing amount of discussion regarding how football programs, from the NFL to Pop Warner football, are attempting to manage “concussion risk.”  Without question, the revelations of the serious consequences to brain health and function that result from the repeated hits to the head sustained in football have taken the debate regarding the role of football in our culture to a new level. While most of the debate has centered on the NFL’s efforts to mitigate those negative effects, the significance of the issue as it applies to our nation’s educational system, particularly our high schools and junior high schools, is far more consequential. Specifically, we now have to give serious consideration to the question of whether the potential human costs to children’s and young adults’ health have become too great for an educational institution to assume.

Certainly, there have always been physical costs to participants. Football is a violent game. But we are not talking about sprained ankles and broken bones. Sprained ankles and broken bones eventually heal. We are talking about young people’s brains. Brains don’t always heal.
Football, at its core, is a tremendously violent game. Even if it is made “safer” with increased monitoring and improved tackling technique (an outcome that is not assured as, to date, there is little empirical evidence that such change in techniques will actually reduce the rate or severity of concussions), the risk remains extremely high. Say football starts out at 9 on a risk scale of 1 to 10 and, over a long period of time and with great effort, safety is improved such that the risk factor is lowered to 7. Is that nearly enough?

This is a dialogue that is long overdue, the brain trauma issue notwithstanding. Concern regarding football’s impact on academic values and the ability of schools to meet their educational mission has been growing steadily over the past several decades.

With a growing body of research confirming that participating in music actually energizes and strengthens the brain and brain function, while involvement in football can damage brain function, what are education and community leaders to do?

In the end, this is about community values as reflected through our educational institutions. Should we be investing so much time, energy, emotion and money in a violent sport that destroys brain cells? Or, does it make more sense, not only from an educational but a public health standpoint, to invest in music, which strengthens and develops brain cells and enhances brain function? Is our collective, community goal to develop brains or “scramble” them?

Because a picture is worth a thousand words, a good place to start that conversation would be to observe scans of the brain on football versus the brain on music.

In Search of the Shared Music or Athletic Experience

Our band recently performed a gig during which I sweated as much as in any basketball game.  It was the end of one of those early spring days when an unseasonable warm front moves through and the temperature explodes to summer-like levels. It was still too early in the season for restaurants and bars to turn on their air conditioning as the forecast for the following days was expected to return to cooler, more seasonable temperatures. But hot is hot, particularly under the added intensity of stage lights.

Perhaps it was because my rehydration concoction of choice for a gig is bourbon rather than Gatorade. To my knowledge, there are no peer-reviewed studies documenting that the intake of bourbon results in a greater perspiration output than does Gatorade.  Regardless of the science, I was drenched.

It was clear to the band, through our exchanged looks, nods, laughs and congratulatory bonding, that we had played a memorable gig. Everyone played hard and played well. It was one of those nights where it all clicked. The music was tight, the sound clear and rich, the audience connected.

There are not many experiences as powerful, inspiring and just plain fun than being a part of a band and a musical performance that is really cookin’. When all cylinders are hitting in unison the result is in an intense connective, shared experience with not only your fellow musicians but also the audience. That is why more than a few musicians have been known to debate whether such musical moments are better than sex. The point of this essay however, is not to compare making music to sex. That would likely require a book length analysis. That noted, its purpose is to explore the similarities of the shared experience of playing music with that of playing basketball.

There are so many parallels between athletics and music. Both involve performance, require rhythm, develop similar teambuilding and character skills as well as physical activity. Yes, the physicality of music performance may not be as intense as basketball at age 25 or 40, but for an old blues musician, a performance on a sweltering stage can be plenty physical.

I have had a life long love affair with basketball. Even after my competitive playing days were long past, I continued to play a regular game of pick-up basketball in places such as Athens, Ohio, New York City, Kansas City, Birmingham Alabama and Lancaster, PA, among others. In the top five on every “Moving to a New City – To Do List”, was “Find a Noon Hoop Game ASAP”, usually the second action item on that list following “Find a Place to Live.”

What was the hunger that drove that obsession? Was it the need to continue to play the game after competing at a high level, including professionally? Clearly, it was not fame. Pick-up hoop results are never carried in the local newspaper or highlighted on ESPN. Certainly, a major driver was the fitness benefits and a certain amount was to feed the competitive instinct.

For many athletes, the loss of a highly competitive outlet is difficult to replace. This is not to say that you should just give up and not try to find outlets to feed your competitive fire. Competition can be good for the soul. The challenge is to wean yourself off of the relentless need to always win, even in a pick-up or recreation league game.

But it’s not simply about feeding the competitive instinct. Fortunately, the need to compete fiercely and always win begins to fade with not only the perspective, but also the physical decline resulting from aging. As I’ve aged, I’ve found that the relentless drive to win has become increasingly replaced by the quest for sports’ potential to offer an intense, shared, personal experience with others. There is a greater appreciation of those elusive, shared moments when it all “clicks” and the entire unit comes together as one in a shared experience, fulfilling to the highest degree possible your potential as a unit.

Yes, competing and winning is important. But at certain points in an athlete’s career, the mere process of playing the game and the power that results from an intense, shared experience with a group of players is more important.

During those moments when your unit is operating as one communication occurs on a different level. Suddenly, the end result becomes less important and satisfying than achieving what athletic or musical expression is, at its core, all about – human connection.  The beauty and satisfaction of playing the game is in the quest to fulfill your full potential as a unit. When that occurs, whether in a 20,000-seat arena, an empty gym or a tiny stage in a basement bar, the feeling is magical. It is pure bliss.  That is why you play. And when you achieve it, even if for only a moment or two, whether as a team or a band, you have “won”. The terms and rewards of “victory” are determined by no one other than the players or musicians who are on the stage or in the arena.

When it all “clicks”, there’s no need for verification, permanent record. Or trophy. It’s the intense, shared moment that carries on and is remembered, even if no one else but the players or musicians remember it. Yes, it’s a bit more special if the audience is locked in and fully engaged and along for the ride. But that’s a bonus. Even in an empty room or barn, the beauty of the activity rests in the intense, shared experience.

Whether as an athlete or a musician, you know it to be true for you have experienced it.

Do Pianos Have Souls? Revised & Updated 2.0

I’d never given any thought to whether pianos, like humans, are living, breathing beings with souls. That changed the morning I stopped by the Music For Everyone Keys for the City piano located in front of Lancaster’s Main Public Library early one May morning in 2010.

Since 2010 MFE has been placing anywhere from 12 to 20 pianos, all designed and painted by local artists, on the streets of Lancaster. These pianos are accessible to the public 24/7 from mid-May through the end of September, making Lancaster the “Street Piano Capital of the World”. The objective of Keys for the City is to provide access to musical opportunity, foster creativity and build a sense of community among the public and, in the process, raise awareness for local music education initiatives.

As Keys enters it’s eighth year, I can’t help but remember that morning in 2010 when I was taught that, yes, indeed, pianos are living, breathing beings with souls.

It had rained the previous night, which presented an early challenge in what we were hoping would be a highly visible, four month public arts project. When we announced that we were going to place 20 pianos throughout town, available for everyone to play 24/7 for four months, everyone told us we were crazy. They told us that those pianos wouldn’t last a week before they would be vandalized. But we believed in Lancaster’s “better angels” and that our citizens were responsible and caring with enough civic pride that they would take care of these works of musical art. Maybe we were crazy, but to us it was not only a public art project, but a social experiment to test the power of music as a tool to bring people together.

We were also told that being exposed to the weather would quickly render them out of tune. We were willing to accept that possibility as this was not about the stage at Carnegie Hall but rather the streets of Lancaster, PA. Further, when making music, it’s not how many notes you play, it’s how you play the notes you play.

Even if they would become unplayable, they’d stand on their own as works of art. Many cities had sponsored art installations such as painted cows, (Harrisburg, PA) or crabs (Baltimore). Keys for the City represented a step beyond. Did the cows of Harrisburg “Moo”? Could the crabs of Baltimore…what sound exactly does a crab make?

Keys for the City went a step further in making this exhibit fully interactive. This ability to “engage” people in a very direct way was a powerful of example of what “art” is supposed to do- get a reaction and illicit a response from people.

Approaching the piano, I was a bit apprehensive due to the rain the previous night. As the piano technicians we consulted had warned, a good rain will cause the keys to swell and stick together rendering the instrument unplayable. We had planned for this…sort of. Eleven of the 20 pianos were under permanent cover, either under an awning in front of a local business or in another case, under a parking deck. The remaining pianos were not. These were equipped with portable plastic covers – think a giant, outdoor grill cover – which we hoped that citizens, neighbors, passers-by would use to cover them in the event of rain. This is where the social experiment came into play. Would the city “adopt” these pianos as their own and take care of them?  

This piano, on one of the city’s busiest streets, was the first we installed during the two day, mad rush to place all twenty. A big, sturdy, upright, it was colorfully designed by the staff of the sponsoring business, a local amusement park.  In the first week, the Library piano got a lot of attention. It seemed as if there was always someone playing it, an elderly woman, kids with their mothers or folks waiting for a meal in front of the soup kitchen, which is housed in the church next door.

As I approached the piano to check on its’ playability, there was a black man, probably in his mid 40’s, well dressed with thick black framed glasses, briefcase perched next to the piano bench, singing and playing beautifully, with real feeling. A handful of people, most, I assumed, on their way to work in the various government buildings, law firms and cafes that line N. Duke Street, stopped to listen for a few minutes before moving on.

It was a beautiful scene. Exactly the type of scene we imagined when we contemplated Keys for the City. An example of the power of music to bring people – often complete strangers – together to share a moment, a song, a magical moment. Magical moments like these were occurring around the pianos all summer long at all hours of the day and night among all types of people.

But there was business to attend to. I needed to assess how much damage the previous night’s rain had done to the pianos and had at least eight more of them to check out. Waiting for a natural point to interrupt him, I asked, “How’s it playing?”
He replied, with a bit of a grimace, “She’s hurting a bit today. I play her every morning on my way to work.” Obviously, he knew “her” and it pained him that “she” wasn’t feeling well that morning.

He spoke as if the piano were alive. I moved on to check the other pianos but the way he described that piano as a living, breathing being stuck with me. That was the first moment I ever considered a piano to be alive and that they had souls.

I made it a point to play, albeit not particularly well, at least a few every day throughout the summer and found it to be true. Like people, pianos feel, sound and play differently every day. Of course, these day-to-day variations were, to a large degree, a result of changing weather. But regardless of why, the fact remains. They are not simply a collection of wood, keys and cables. They are, in fact alive.

Every piano is unique in its feel, sound and personality. And like people, they have good days and not so good days. They can be moody. Some days can be somber while on other days, they are absolutely radiant and lively.

And as I learned on the streets of Lancaster, PA that morning back in 2010, pianos do, indeed, have souls.

To view the 2018 MFE “Keys for the City” pianos, visit: KeysfortheCity.com

On the Sidelines or in the Band: Participation Vs. Spectatorship and the Educational Process

One of the primary purposes of an educational institution is to instill in students not simply an understanding of specific knowledge (numbers, words or dates), but a lifelong love of learning. Further, it is safe to say that clearly the most effective way to learn the lessons taught through sports or other activities, is actually participating in those activities as opposed to simply observing them. Therefore, when evaluating our investment in school programs and extracurricular activities, consideration should be given to whether that activity is something you can continue to participate in and learn from long after graduation.

The purpose of this essay is to assess the effectiveness of football versus music as it applies to lifelong participation and learning.

Before proceeding, it is important to dispel the notion that team sports are unique in their potential to teach skills and lessons in teamwork and to build character in participants. The fact is there is no difference between the types of lessons learned and character traits obtained through participation in football or other team sports and involvement in a music ensemble or band. Skills such as collaboration, communication, discipline and personal responsibility are learned through all of these activities. That being the case, in tough economic times, when considering educational investment in football versus music programs, education and community leaders must consider additional issues and benefits of these activities, including the issue of whether these activities can be practiced for a lifetime.

Football is a sport where 96 percent of high school players will never again play the game after high school and less than one percent will do so after college. According to the National Collegiate Athletics Association (NCAA) website, 5.8 percent, or less than one in seventeen of all high school senior boys, play interscholastic football. Of those, approximately, one in fifty, or 1.8 percent, will get drafted by an NFL team. Or, put another way, only eight in 10,000 or approximately 0.08 percent of high school seniors playing interscholastic football will eventually be drafted by an NFL team. (NCAA.org.) Yes, life long lessons are learned during those high school years. But for 96 percent of participants, football’s ability to continue to teach for life ends after their final high school game. Further, none of those participants are women. While there are many sports in which you can participate for your entire life - swimming, golf and tennis - can be played into one’s seventies and eighties, these are not the sports in which we are investing the most resources. That distinction goes to football, an activity where participation for all but the most elite ends at age eighteen.

A few years ago, I found myself trudging on the elliptical machine at my local YMCA alongside a 70 year-old man.  He looked in great shape. He told me that he was not training simply to remain in shape. He was training to play baseball in a local over-50 league. And he’s a pitcher! People marveled that he was still playing competitively at age seventy, so much so that he was the subject of a feature story in the local newspaper. His playing at age seventy was quite an accomplishment and certainly noteworthy because he was the lone seventy-year-old in the league. No one came close to him in age.

Contrast this to the number of musicians who are still playing at age seventy, eighty or even ninety. While both music and sports can teach by participation and observation, music’s potential as a life-long educational tool is far more lasting and powerful because the opportunity to participate as opposed to simply observing as a spectator is possible regardless of age.

In short, there are infinitely more sixty, seventy, and eighty-year-olds still playing music together and, in the process, learning from each other, challenging themselves and keeping their minds sharp than there are twenty-five year-olds playing football. Further, an additional benefit of music is that an eighty-year-old bassist or pianist can play on equal footing with an eighteen-year-old guitarist. Not so in competitive sports, and in particular, football. That being the case, from a long-term educational return on investment perspective, music is far superior to football, if for no other reason than the ability to remain actively involved in music never ends.
If participation in an activity, as opposed to simply observing, is a more effective way to learn important lessons and achieve personal growth, we should invest in activities that allow active participation to the greatest extent possible for as long as possible. If music is an activity that one can actively engage in and thus continue to learn from for a lifetime, shouldn’t we be encouraging the development and funding of such programs? Shouldn’t the potential for lifelong participation and learning through music be strongly considered when compared to investment in sports such as football, where the opportunity to continue to actively participate is limited and usually ends with the final high school game?

If so, the answer is indisputable: Music results in a far better and more powerful long-term educational return on investment than football as it applies to the issue of lessons learned and personal growth achieved through participation.