There’s something about the raw vitality of middle and high school students that forces one to view her surroundings with a fresh excitement, seizing on connections that can only be made with the eyes of a teenager.

Such was my experience last weekend at the Michigan Music Conference, where over 2,000 educators, parents, students, and music enthusiasts came together to discuss the nuances of teaching, learning, experiencing, and mastering music.

The students moved through the exhibition hall with the eagerness of a cat eyeing an unsuspecting mouse. They walked around in small packs, jostling against each other, tugging on performance dresses, fixing hair, talking hurriedly, and laughing at things – anything, everything.

They touched, poked, tasted, and asked questions at nearly every booth in the exhibition hall. Their energy and interactions encouraged me to comment on the many varied industries that have emerged from within the world of music educators. The exhibit hall was sprinkled with uniforms. Not just marching band uniforms, but concert dresses, choral gowns, and suits that could be used for a variety of occasions.

Other obvious music-related exhibitors were there as well: instruments – whole sections of string instruments, woodwinds, brass, and even just saxophones, each waiting to be tested, played, and drooled over. There were music publishers, university music departments and societies, and various technologies that focused on music writing or recording.

Other exhibitors there seemingly had nothing to do with music – or the arts at all – but whose businesses rely primarily on the support of arts programs in schools, the participation of students in these programs, and the promotion of the programs within society.

For example, there were a half dozen or so travel agencies who were reaching out to teachers and parent leaders to organize educational tours for music groups heading out of city or state to play or compete. There was the ham and cookie lady, and the cheesecake people, and the pizza place (to name a few) that provide goods, tips, and techniques for fundraising.

And then there was the baton booth. Batons, I know, have to do with music. They are those little things that conductors hold up when they are directing the orchestra. So, what?

Well, apparently, there is a big market for batons among established and aspiring conductors. The length, feel, weight, and balance are all important features of a good baton. From what I understand, the baton is to the conductor as the camera is to the photographer or the painting surface is to the painter. It is something that speaks to the personality of the conductor and also gives him or her confidence and authority.

I won’t elaborate here on the many other nuances of the baton, because what is even more fascinating to me is the story behind the making of the batons. A husband and wife team makes their living off of crafting, restoring, and selling batons.

It is a profession that they stumbled upon in graduate school when a professor insisted that Tate find a baton that suited his needs. Instead of buying one (perhaps he couldn’t find one that worked for him), he made one himself. His handcrafted baton was such a hit among his colleagues that they all asked for one as well. And so the business began. Since then, because of such a high demand for his batons, they were able to launch their business full-time ten years ago.

Watching the students swoon over the batons, pick one up, close their eyes, and conduct an entire symphony at a pace that matches their internal energy made me marvel at the connection between keeping music in our schools and the livelihood of the baton makers.

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This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 27th, 2009 at 5:17 pm by Lucinda M. Dugger and is filed under creators, economy, education. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.