When Excellence Becomes Mundane

It is a sunny day on the patio this morning, I am enjoying my coffee with my wife to celebrate her birthday. The weather forecast looks bad for our area so we are adjusting our plans for the day. As I sipped my second cup of hazelnut brew from Kauai Coffee and enjoyed bantering with my wife of almost 28 years, the topic of today's Patio Pondering hit me like the thunderstorms predicted to hit our area this afternoon.

Last Friday night was the end-of-year Pops Concert for the band program at Leo Jr-Sr High School where the elementary, jr. high, and high school bands all performed three pieces.

On the surface this event is the same as all other end-of-year concerts where the director extolls the virtues of band and arts programs in education, celebrates the growth of the musical abilities of the students, then leads each band. Nothing special at all. Except in the case of Mr. Colby Stackhouse.

I've written about Colby Stackhouse before. I'll write about him again. Some things deserve repeated celebration.

First, the elementary band made up of sixth graders who chose to take time from their class schedule to play in the band performed. Their performance was wonderful. When I talked with my wife about it her retort was "Yeah, they didn't play Hot Cross Buns!" No they didn't. Hot Cross Buns isn't worthy of even warm-up music for these youngsters.

Then the combined seventh-eighth grade band performed. The combined groups eclipsed the size of the high school band and filled the makeshift orchestra pit on the gym floor. Not only did the size impress but the music they played blew me and the audience away with their skill and the difficulty of the selections. Their performance of The Addams Family and Jurassic Park theme songs along with Critical Impact rivaled what is deemed successful by high school bands, outperformed even.

Then the high schoolers took the stage, and take over they did!

The concert band played three pieces, theme songs from Pirates of the Caribbean and Les Misérables along with To the Summit. Those three songs held our attention for a collective 24 minutes, 24 minutes of almost flawless music. I admit I am biased, but the sound, skill, musicianship, and tone of this group of high schoolers was nothing short of phenomenal. There were no squeaks from the reeded instruments, no off-tune squeals from the brass, and the percussion section kept beat while enhancing the sound with the minor percussion instruments.

But as I sat there with a few tears streaming down my cheek I realized that this type of performance is exactly what I've come to expect from the students led by Mr. Colby Stackhouse. He has made excellence in performance mundane because it is now expected, anticipated.

In four short years Mr. Stackhouse has driven the Leo High School program from last place at marching band competitions to sixth place winner at state finals, increased participation from a handful of dedicated musicians to a program that touched over 175 students this school year. More importantly, he is stoking the fire of musical passion that rounds out a child's education, inspires parts of the brains that only music can touch, to help each student be just a bit better.

Friday night lights get the headlines in most high schools. Touchdowns fill the trophy cases and the sports pages, and that's fine. But last Friday night, in a gymnasium that doubled as a concert hall, something just as remarkable happened, and it didn't require a scoreboard. In a culture that too often treats the arts as an extracurricular afterthought, Mr. Colby Stackhouse is quietly building something extraordinary in our little corner of Northeast Indiana. That deserves more than a footnote. It deserves a standing ovation.