Mr. Henderson’s copy of the Essentials of Music Theory: Teacher’s Answer Key was more than a book; it was a shield. To his ninth-period theory class, it was the Holy Grail, the only thing standing between them and a failing grade on the dreaded Unit 6 Harmony Test.
For thirty years, the book had lived in the top left drawer of his oak desk. Its spine was held together by yellowed Scotch tape, and the edges of the pages were softened by thousands of quick flips to verify a deceptive cadence or a secondary dominant. Essentials of Music Theory: Teacher’s Answer Key
Mr. Henderson smiled, pulled a fresh piece of chalk from his pocket, and turned to the blackboard. "Then let's stop worrying about being right," he said, "and start listening." For thirty years, the book had lived in
The "thief" didn't last an hour. Leo, a first-chair cellist who had been struggling with his circle of fifths, walked up to the desk. He didn't have the book, but he had a confession: "We don't need the key, Mr. Henderson. We just didn't want to be wrong." Henderson smiled, pulled a fresh piece of chalk