Ron works hard, but he’ll tell people, "I hate to work." That may be part truth, but it’s mostly humor. A good pension eight years down the road doesn’t explain why he’ll stay after school to help students, why he is always whistling a tune, why he eats his lunch while listening to a student take a test on the scales. It doesn’t explain why when the trumpets get a part right, when the music really soars, he conducts a little wider and more forcefully and yells, Excellent!"

For many of these kids, Ron will be a presence in their lives from ages twelve through eighteen, five days a week, plus in the evenings for concerts and on days-long trips in high school. Since he spends so many hours with kids, he can’t help but notice the way they deal with one another. His youngest player in Band III mostly sticks to herself. She can play with the best of the older kids, but it’s clear she feels uncomfortable around them. One of Ron’s best clarinet players is better at dealing with adults than with people her own age. A trumpet player seems intent on testing limits, each and every day. The percussionists are, well, percussionists. They’re usually goofing around on the sly, maybe lying on the floor behind the bass drum, and he has to bring them back with the rest of the group.

When Ron gets home in the evenings, he sinks into a chair in front of the television more often than he would like. He almost never spends the evening playing tuba, and although he often hears his students perform in the community and attends professional performances, he seldom settles in at home, puts in a CD, and listens, really listens, to music.

Ron is working with the kids on concert pieces for the upcoming Cabaret, an auction to raise money for arts programs at the middle school. Ron and a teacher who is now retired started Cabaret as a way to fill gaps in state funding. It is a public and much-publicized showcase for the arts, and the kids had better be in good form. Usually the program raises $6-7,000, which is vital to keep the music, theater and fine arts programs alive at the school. From experience, Ron has learned that if enough kids are enrolled in music classes, the classes won’t be cut from the curriculum. Still, a full classroom doesn’t guarantee the resources needed to teach.

Back in the classroom, which smells faintly of tennis shoes today, Ron tells the kids to bring up the sheet music for "Fiero,’ a song they will be playing at Cabaret. The beginning tempo marking for "Fiero" reads con brio—with spirit. He takes the band through the first few stanzas. The kids are playing with plenty of brio but not much precision. Battered trumpet in hand, Ron lifts the instrument to his mouth and plays one of the melodic lines for the kids to hear and emulate. They play the piece through.

One part of the music is particularly rough, and Ron wants to hear it again. The snare drum has a march rhythm with the bass drum and tambourine working off it. The woodwinds in the band come in with short accenting notes. With the woodwinds playing short notes, the percussion part is exposed, and right now it’s just not working. He tells his drummers to find the beginning of that section. Then he reaches around with his trumpet and uses the bell end to scratch an itch on his back. "Hey, that’s pretty handy," he remarks to no one in particular. Then he’s back on track. "Okay now… beginning of that section," he says. He cues the percussion to start. This time, with their part isolated, the kids can hear what they’re doing. The music locks in closer. When the rest of the band is added, the woodwind part is also tighter, building off of the rhythm. "Good. Much better," Ron says. "Excellent."

JENNY WIERSCHEM (LNF/ UO 2001) writes and edits curriculum materials for the Success For All Foundation, an education reform non-profit headquartered in Baltimore, Maryland.