I started out as a music teacher because I could explain those musical ideas clearly. Helping other people understand notes and what they say - I was good at that! More than that, the result was fun! I could watch young people learn how to create music. I was disappointed to discover, soon into my career, that music teachers were looked upon as break time for the "real " teachers. One "real" teacher used to stand at my door with her class and tap her watch if we weren't exactly on time. I've heard an administrator describe my subject as "fluff". I've had countless parents say, "Oh, my child just loves your class, the say it's so much fun!" I have come to the conclusion that the rest of the world may indeed see my subject as fun. In many districts, the classes that teach the arts are the first on the chopping block when budget issues arise. I've been fearful several times over my twenty-four years that my position would be cut. I have mulled over my personal defense for teaching music for most of those years. As I enter my twenty-fifth year, I'd like to explain why I chose and keep this career. Only a few experienced individuals and I know that I'm truly working hard at opening a new world for children each time they enter my door.I teach music for the wide-eyed wonder of the Thors. Thor entered kindergarten the same year that Mississippi had one pilot kindergarten homeroom at each elementary school. He and his twenty classmates looked like younger siblings that had gotten lost on a school visit. The first time this class came to my room, I sat them on the floor in a circle, sang a song called "Happy Train", and accompanied myself on the autoharp. Little hands reached toward the instrument. Only the most mature few could manage to listen to the words of the song, as they had been instructed. Thor was in awe. It wasn't quiet awe, it was bubbly, noisy, questioning awe. I gave everyone a turn to touch, feel, and try to make a sound on the instrument. Eventually, we sang one verse of the song with each child's name included - "I see Thor on the happy train....." They all tried to sing along, turned red, clapped - Thor beamed. Every new song we learned, through the weeks - "I've Been Working On The Railroad", "Chicken Soup" and "Skinnamarink-a-dink-a-dink" - Thor sang out, mistakes or no, with a five-year-old voice that bounced off the walls with exuberance. I taught Thor every year through fourth grade. He matured, learned to smirk, learned to talk in class and giggle with friends when he shouldn't. But one thing didn't change, at least through fourth grade. When I began the piano introduction to one of out 'fun songs', Thor sat up, knew when to come in, and, like very few fourth grade boys tend to do, he sang with all his heart.I teach music for the seriously talented. There are too many to name, and I would surely accidentally omit one, so no names here. I have run across serious talent at every age level I have taught. I had the joy of taking a high school choir to state-level competition. They listened to every concrete and abstract idea I wanted them to express in Cherubini's "Sanctus in C minor". I watched a high school group take the wide range of choral literature that we had learned during the school year, and come up with a final concert that took on the guise of a radio show. They wrote a script so all the songs fit in as poetry, gospel hour, even commercials! I was able to share how to hit those high notes a little better, how to pace yourself when dancing and singing the same show eight times in one day, how to pronounce words to blend with other singers. I saw them get in trouble at home, at school, fail classes, ace classes, get scholarships, get accepted at prestigious universities (with the help of choir as an activity), try out for parts, get them, not get them, finish college, get married, not get married, have families, experience loss - but most of all, I've seen them live their dreams. Some of them are still performing, even teaching themselves! I am so proud. It doesn't matter to me if they went on to study music. I feel I have shown them a hobby that can last a lifetime. If you love music, you can find a place where people are sharing it.I teach music for everyone. Some students walk into the room and are enthusiastic from day one. Later, it turns out they can't even sing on pitch. By the time that discovery is made, it doesn't matter. Anyone can sing in the place I call my music room. Just sing your own way. Some students excel in the paperwork on notes, rests, and meter. They discover that the great puzzle that is music makes perfect sense to them. I can actually see them glowing from the brain light bulb while the rest of the class struggles along and asks question after question. At that point, I allow the one that excels to take over answering questions and helping. I also get to instruct them to help humbly, slowly, make sure that understanding happens, and never condescend. What am I teaching at that point? I call it music, but there is so much more.I teach music to recruit new members for the families known as band, choir and orchestra. I love to encourage students to join one of the groups in middle school, for musical and behavioral/social reasons. In today's climate, students that feel they belong to a group tend to be more successful at all of their activities. Recently I saw a family in a restaurant. I had taught both children, and both are now in middle school band. I smiled and spoke, they filled me in on their activities, and I told them I was proud, and encouraged them a little more. They assured me it would continue through high school. The father looked at me and said "This is really great, because we were never in band!" I smiled even bigger. Mission accomplished.Teaching music is a power tool that should be used with care. Music is a personal thing. I try to open windows and doors that expose children to all the many, many, types of music that can enrich their life. I also still explain those notes and rests. By teaching music, I am more than break time for the teacher. I am handing out tools with which our children will carve their own personal happiness.