5 Small Things That Make a Big Difference
A kid hangs around at the end of class. They’re not there to ask for help. They’re not angling for attention. They just wait — until you finally say, “See you tomorrow.” Then they leave.
Later, you overhear that same kid telling a friend that band feels different. Not because of the music or the new uniforms, but because, as they put it, “The teacher actually talks to us.”
That’s the kind of thing students remember. Not the concert program you spent hours formatting. Not even the pieces they played. What sticks with them is that you looked up and said their name.
These things don’t require more budget or more hours. They just require you to show up and stay in it, even when it’s messy.
Here are five small things that matter more than you might think.

1. Say Hello Like You Mean It
The morning chaos is real. You’re behind on photocopies, a kid needs reeds and your baton has mysteriously vanished. Again. But even on those days — especially on those days — don’t skip the greeting.
You don’t have to be chipper. You just have to be there. Eye contact. A name. “Good to see you.” That’s enough.
There’s a freshman whose name I butchered for the first three weeks of school. I kept correcting myself and kept apologizing. Finally, I got it right. He eventually told me that I was the only teacher who got his name right.
You don’t need to greet every student with the energy of a camp counselor. Just acknowledge them. I used to think that if I wasn’t feeling 100%, I should hang back and not fake it. I learned that there’s a middle ground. Neutral-but-present beats over-the-top and checked-out all the time.
It’s also the cheapest classroom management tool you have. Kids are less likely to act out when they know you see them — not just their mistakes, but them.

2. Ask One Question that Isn’t About Music
You already know who’s out of tune, but do you know who bombed their chem quiz? Music is what we teach, but it’s not the only thing that’s happening. For a lot of students, it’s not even the biggest thing happening.
There’s a student in one of my classes who almost dropped out this year. Not just from my class — from the school. I had no idea until I casually asked how her part-time job was going. She shrugged and said, “It’s fine, but I missed the first three periods yesterday because I worked late and overslept.”
One thing led to another, and she ended up telling me more in 30 seconds than I’d learned all semester. I couldn’t fix her situation, but I could at least adjust my expectations and remind her she’s not just a name on a spreadsheet.
Even five-second check-ins shift the dynamic. “Hey, how was your cross-country meet?” or “Did you ever finish that video game?” These questions make students feel seen. And honestly, it gives you a break from only talking about eighth-note lengths and tuning tendencies.
I used to feel awkward asking about non-music stuff. I didn’t want to come off weird or like I was trying too hard. But kids can tell when you’re genuinely curious — even if you’re bad at it. They’ll meet you halfway.

3. Say Goodbye
The bell rings, and the scramble begins. Instruments are everywhere. Half a dozen “did-I-tell-them-about-uniforms?” moments flood my mind. It’s easy to let the exit become a blur.
The end of class is its own moment, and like all transitions, it has weight.
“See you tomorrow.” “Nice work today.” “Hope your game goes well.”
These final words of class don’t have to be fancy or deep. But they matter. That closing loop reminds them that class wasn’t just another 50-minute block. It was something, and you noticed them on the way out.
Some days, I mess it up. I’ll get caught in a sidebar with a section leader or run out of time trying to untangle the schedule for tomorrow. I always regret when the goodbye moment gets swallowed by logistics.
The students may not say much in response, but they remember whether or not you said something.

4. Stop Changing the Plan Every Day
Teachers love variety. Students? Not so much.
You might be tired of the same warm-up, same rhythm drill, same order of operations. For students, however — especially the ones whose lives are unpredictable — that sameness is a safety net.
There was a stretch when I kept trying to shake things up in my class with new exercises, new bell-ringer routines. I thought I was keeping things fresh, but the kids were floundering — not because they didn’t understand the material, but because they didn’t know what to expect. One clarinet player finally said, “Can we go back to the old way? That made more sense.”
I’ve gone off-script before. Skipped the warm-up to “save time.” Tried a new routine because I got bored. Every time, the room felt a little wobbly.
I learned that it’s not about control — it’s about consistency. Predictable doesn’t mean boring. It just means students aren’t on edge. And kids who are not on edge play better.
One thing that helped me was naming our routines. Instead of “Let’s do lip slurs,” I’ll say, “Let’s do the Morning Five.” Kids latch onto those anchors, especially when the rest of their day feels like dodgeball.
And when you do need to switch things up, preview it. “Hey, we’re skipping the Blue Book today because we’re doing small groups.” That little heads-up keeps the room grounded.

5. Say One True Thing to One Student
It doesn’t take much.
“You’ve become way more confident on that solo.” “I saw you helping the younger trumpets and that helped rehearsal.” “You’ve come a long way since August.”
That’s it. One sentence, spoken directly, with no strings attached. No group praise. No “great job, everyone.” Move away from the generic, move toward the specific.
These small, personal acknowledgments last longer than we think. I’ve had kids bring up a compliment I gave them two years ago — something I barely remember saying (which makes me think, “I better be careful about everything I say!”). Meanwhile, they’ll forget my perfect rehearsal plan by Friday.
When I made this a habit, I started noticing more good things. Not because the kids changed, but because I was looking. You tend to find what you’re focused on.
Just try to make one student feel noticed each day. It adds up.
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I used to think my job was music first. Now, I think it’s more like music is the channel I use to show kids they matter.
What I’m really trying to do is show students they matter in ways that don’t require budget approvals or new initiatives.
The kid who hangs in the music room all the time isn’t waiting for a cleaner cutoff or a cooler piece. They’re waiting to see if you’ll notice them. And you acknowledging them is what keeps them coming back.