Seventy-Six Trombones in the Classroom

There’s a place in The Music Man where Professor Harold Hill’s band finally has to perform. For months, taught by a con man who knows nothing of music, they’ve been picturing themselves as musicians, imagining the songs that will pour forth from their instruments.

As the people of River City gather, we all wait for what’s going to happen. Finally, the band members lift their trumpets and trombones. And out comes… not music, exactly, but something – a series of toots and squeaks that vaguely resembles “Seventy-Six Trombones.”

I’d like to think I’m a better teacher than “Professor” Hill, but there comes a time when my students have to perform on their own. When we design Student Learning Outcomes, we start with a “Given—”: “Given a musical score,” a Music SLO might read, “students will be able to play ‘Seventy-Six Trombones’ with acceptable accuracy.”

In English, it’s hard to come up with a good “Given—.” In my department, we go round and round, trying to define our expectations in measurable terms. But sometimes I think our goals should be more honest: “Given a blank sheet of paper, students will be able to write an essay that’s brilliant and perceptive.”

That’s what we expect them to do, after all: produce something out of nothing. We hold their hands, we give them all the help we can… but ultimately, they’re on their own. They have to write their own stories. All we can do is sit back and hope they’ve learned something – and watch as those first squeaky sentences appear on the screen.