I was a pretty poor student growing up, except for my main interest, music. I played violin and spent almost all of my time studying it. I was a solid player, never going to be a concert soloist, but reliable and skilled enough to saw my way through any piece we ever played.<p>In my school system, starting around middle-school, there was a very serious effort to use the orchestral sections to teach leadership and teamwork. Section leaders were given extra responsibilities to assemble their sections after school and rehearse, a study group of sorts. In a formal orchestra, the second person in charge of the orchestra is called the "concertmaster" ("leader" in the UK I think). This person is traditionally also the section leader of the first violins. Responsibilities can be fairly limited, tuning the orchestra before rehearsals or concerts, or extensive: leading rehearsals, selecting music, organizing smaller ensembles, etc. Because of this, the second chair of the first violins often assumes the role of section leader for that section.<p>As anybody who ever played in band or orchestra knows, your position in your section is also competitive. You have to audition for your seat.<p>I made concertmaster for the first time in 7th grade. There wasn't much to it at that age, mostly just tuning everybody. But considering I wasn't much of a student outside of music, having a prestige position was pretty motivating.<p>I kept that position through the 9th grade. In 10th, I moved up to the "symphonic orchestra", a full affair with about 100 members, strings, winds, brass, percussion, the works - it was usually reserved for 11th and 12th graders. I started in the last chair of the second violins (the lowest possible position). It was beyond humbling. To go from a position where I opened concerts by walking on stage to applause, to literally the back of the class was rather frustrating even if I had skipped ahead to get there.<p>I decided to join a local youth symphony. But things were more intense there. Once again I was stuck near the back of the 2nd violins.<p>Over the course of the year, I worked my tail off and took every audition opportunity. In both orchestras, I worked up to section leader by the end of the year. Along the way, I learned how to run rehearsals, tutor instrumentalists who were behind learning the music and filled in on a couple quartets who needed a second violinist to complete the ensemble. I learned to play a mediocre Viola and Cello that year as well (I've long since forgotten, but I could work around basic pieces). Various other skills started to click into place.<p>That summer, I went to an all summer band camp, where all the <i>very</i> serious instrumentalists, choir kids and ballet dancers in the state came. Once again I made it to near the back of the second violins. I was frustrated. But I used my new skills to organize a small ensemble of "back of the section" kids and put myself as concertmaster and conductor. We played a short piece of music written by one of the kids with some serious writing talent at an all camp show. The conductor of the symphony grabbed the composer after the show and offered to set him up with a music scholarship at the university he taught at. I learned how to promote others.<p>Returning back to school in the 11th grade, I made middle of the first violins, stayed in the youth orchestra (where I was the 2nd violin section leader), joined a baroque chamber orchestra as the assistant 1st violin section leader and played and played until my neck was raw and calloused. I worked my way up, adding skills and even taking on my first few professional gigs, playing in small ensembles at weddings and high society functions.<p>In the summer I was selected to represent my school in the first ever exchange program to Russia (sponsored by the State Department). This was not long after the Iron Curtain fell and we were to exchange with a musical school in Siberia. That's another story, but I made concertmaster for that exchange and played all over the Southern Urals.<p>When I returned, I auditioned and made about middle of the pack in the first violins of my youth symphony. We had qualified for a national competition in Quebec, Canada. We were one of two U.S. orchestras who had been invited to compete. We won.<p>In 12th grade, I made concert master in my school symphonic, concert master of my baroque chamber, and 2nd seat of the 1st violins of my youth symphony.<p>My point is that Music didn't make me good at math or literature or science. It made me good at leading, at learning humility, and promoting other people's good work. It made me good at hard work and not to expect things to be given. It made me learn that there's always somebody better than you, but also there's value in doing the best you can for yourself.<p>I also learned public speaking, leadership, presentation, how to dress well, selecting work, how the professional music world works, I traveled to two countries where I didn't speak the language, how to break a complex problem down into atomic pieces, patience, and far more.<p>Every one of these lessons and skills have proven far more valuable to me in my career than all the rest of my schooling combined (well through my grad program) and I apply them every single day. Many of my fellow orchestra members have also gone onto happy, productive, successful lives -- some in music, most not. They run companies, became chefs, teach, raise successful children, and otherwise contribute to the world. I can't say that for most of the kids I knew outside of the music program.<p>During this entire time, every single year, the school board would threaten to cut all funding for the arts. A program where the students brought their own supplies, paid for their own "uniforms" (Tuxedos), and other than 2 or 3 teachers and a space to practice, cost the school system almost nothing. We even sent all the students around town before a concert to get sponsorship to pay to rent the auditorium we gave performances in because the school wouldn't let us use the facility. Every year, dozens of concerned parents and many of my fellow students, came to the board meetings and gave testimonials like mine. I heard these same kinds of life transforming stories from kids from all over the county. Every year the budget would be cut by a few percent with a footnote that next year would probably be the last year.<p>Each year the sports teams got new uniforms, new equipment, the sports fields were immaculately maintained and up-to-date. There was never a light out in the gym, or the acres of lighting on the football/track stadium. All of their bus trips to matches were paid for by the school system and when our basketball team made it along in the game got free plan rides to their game. The Gymnasium and Track was reserved so only kids on teams could use it after school, even if there wasn't a practice going on -- it sat idle most of the time with all of the lights blazing away. We had maybe a dozen different sports teams who had all this lavished upon them.<p>Of course they learned similar life-skills, and many have gone onto happy, productive and contributing lives and I don't begrudge any of the players for pursuing their interests and using their talents. But it seems in terms of proportionality, the arts programs may have been a better investment in society than bi-weekly personal trainers for the football players, who at best, if they were <i>really</i> great, might get a 5 year professional career.<p>Yet I continue to hear about arts program being cut.