I Didn’t Get Goosebumps in 2013 Either. But I Knew It Would Help Teachers

I Didn’t Get Goosebumps in 2013 Either. But I Knew It Would Help Teachers.

Reflections on my conversation with Chris Munce of Choralosophy, artificial intelligence, and why my mission hasn’t changed.

Recently, I had the opportunity to sit down with Chris Munce for another conversation on his Choralosophy podcast.

Chris and I have known each other for years, and one of the things I appreciate about him is his willingness to have conversations that aren’t always comfortable.

In some of his promotion for our conversation, Chris acknowledged something that I think deserves attention. He’s using AI himself, while also navigating a very fine line between embracing the technology, being transparent about using it, and recognizing that many people in the music education community have strong feelings against it.

I understand that fine line.

I’ve been walking it myself.

But something Chris highlighted from our conversation really stuck with me.

I admitted that creating my new S-Cubed AI Coach didn’t give me the “feels.”

No goosebumps. No overwhelming artistic experience. No magical moment when I felt transported by what I was creating.

And here’s the thing.

I didn’t get those feelings in 2013 when I was uploading YouTube videos and lessons to TPT for hours and hours on end , either.

Let’s Go Back to 2013

When I began creating the S-Cubed Sight Singing Program for Beginners, I spent countless hours recording videos, developing lessons, organizing materials, uploading content to YouTube, and eventually making everything available through Teachers Pay Teachers.

It was an enormous amount of work.

Hundreds of videos. Lesson after lesson. Endless hours of preparation, editing, uploading, and figuring out technology that was still relatively new to many teachers.

Did I get goosebumps uploading those videos?

Absolutely not.

Did I experience some profound artistic revelation while organizing lesson files and preparing materials for Teachers Pay Teachers?

Nope.

I was working.

But I knew something important.

I knew that what I was creating could help teachers.

I knew that there were middle school choral directors who were struggling to teach sight singing, who needed a sequence they could trust, and who wanted their students to experience success.

I knew what had worked in my classroom, and I wanted to make it available to others.

That was my motivation.

Not the technology.

Not the platform.

Not the excitement of uploading videos.

The teachers. And ultimately, their students.

Creating Art and Creating Tools Are Two Different Things

This is where I think some of our conversations about artificial intelligence in music education get tangled up.

When we’re standing in front of a choir and something extraordinary happens musically, that’s art.

When singers connect with a piece of music, listen deeply to one another, shape a phrase together, and create something beautiful that didn’t exist a moment earlier, that’s art.

I’ve experienced those moments throughout my career.

Those moments absolutely gave me goosebumps.

Some of the most profound experiences of my life have happened through choral music.

But creating a curriculum to help teachers develop those experiences?

That’s a different kind of work.

And creating an AI-powered coaching tool to help teachers become more confident and effective in their classrooms?

That’s work, too.

I don’t need to feel artistic inspiration while building a tool for that tool to have value.

I need to know that it works.

I need to know that it helps.

And I need to know that it serves the people I created it for.

Same Mission. Different Technology.

In 2013, I used the technology available to me to share what I had learned from years of teaching middle school chorus.

YouTube helped me demonstrate lessons.

Teachers Pay Teachers helped me distribute the curriculum.

My blog helped me communicate with teachers and share their experiences.

None of those technologies created the musical experiences that happened in classrooms.

Teachers did that.

Students did that.

The technology simply helped make those experiences possible.

Now it’s 2026.

And I have another tool.

Artificial intelligence.

I’ve spent countless hours building my S-Cubed AI Coach, drawing from the same teaching experience, the same curriculum, and the same commitment to helping middle school choral directors.

This time, instead of simply watching a video or reading a lesson plan, teachers can ask questions.

They can get help thinking through classroom management challenges.

They can ask about pacing, differentiation, reluctant singers, changing male voices, and the hundreds of situations that arise when you’re teaching real children in a real classroom.

Is the AI Coach making art?

No.

It’s helping teachers do the work that makes art possible.

And that’s a distinction I think matters enormously.

I Understand the Discomfort

I know that many music educators are deeply concerned about artificial intelligence.

Some worry about creativity. Others worry about authenticity, intellectual property, the future of artistic professions, and the possibility that human musicianship will somehow become less valuable.

Those are legitimate concerns.

And I don’t believe we should dismiss them.

But I also don’t believe that using AI to support teachers means we’re abandoning our commitment to human artistry.

I don’t see those things as mutually exclusive.

A teacher who uses technology to better understand how to teach changing male voices isn’t replacing the human experience of singing.

A teacher who gets help managing a difficult classroom isn’t replacing the relationship between teacher and student.

A teacher who uses an AI Coach to think through tomorrow’s lesson isn’t asking a machine to create the magic that happens when young people make music together.

They’re preparing to do their jobs more effectively.

And that matters.

What Chris Helped Me Recognize

One of the things I appreciate about Chris Munce is that he’s willing to acknowledge the complicated reality of this moment.

We can use emerging technology, recognize its usefulness, and still ask difficult questions about its place in our profession.

We can be transparent about what we’re doing without pretending that everyone is going to agree with us.

And we can distinguish between the deeply human experience of creating art and the practical work required to support that experience.

When Chris pointed out that I hadn’t gotten the “feels” while creating my AI Coach, it helped me recognize something I hadn’t fully articulated.

I wasn’t trying to create an artistic experience for myself.

I was trying to create something useful for somebody else.

Just like I was in 2013.

Thirteen Years Later

Since I first launched S-Cubed, the program has reached thousands of teachers and more than 100,000 students.

I’ve heard from teachers who found their confidence.

I’ve heard from teachers whose students began reading music when they previously couldn’t.

I’ve heard from educators who finally felt they had a practical, manageable way to teach sight singing.

Those stories mean more to me than any excitement I might have felt uploading a video in 2013.

And now, with my AI Coach, I hope to help another generation of teachers find that same confidence.

I don’t know exactly where artificial intelligence will take our profession.

Nobody does.

But I know why I’m participating in this moment.

It’s the same reason I began creating S-Cubed thirteen years ago.

To share what I’ve learned.

To support teachers.

To help students succeed.

And to make it a little easier for more young people to experience the extraordinary power of singing together.

The technology has changed.

The work has changed.

The mission hasn’t.

And when a teacher tells me that something I created helped their students experience the joy of making music?

That’s when I get the goosebumps.

I’m grateful to Chris Munce and Choralosophy for making room for thoughtful conversations about music education, technology, and the future of our profession.