Monica Yant Kinney: A musical score for a city school

Oh, to be one of the lucky ducks spending 45 minutes a week in Room 212 at John Welsh Elementary School, where music teacher Maura DiBerardinis has everything a K-8 kid could want to blow, bang, shake, tap, and ogle.

She's got guiros and xylophones, tambourines and recorders. Neatly labeled Ikea crates contain scarves, triangles, djembes, glockenspiels, claves, finger cymbals, and Boomwhackers (colorful tuned tubes that teach harmony and melody).

"One set of textbooks cost thousands of dollars. A basic xylophone runs $800 - and I need six of every instrument," notes "Ms. D.," a Jennifer Garner look-alike. "Instructional CDs are expensive, too, but it's important for the kids to hear exciting arrangements instead of just listening to me playing the piano all the time."

If you're presuming Room 212 is in an affluent suburb, think again. Welsh sits in whipsawed North Philadelphia, and the cash-strapped School District of Philadelphia pays for none of this aural adventure.

Ms. D's "Music Patrons" do.

When DiBerardinis landed at Welsh fresh out of Temple in 2005, the rookie received dusty textbooks, a piano, and $300 to revive a moribund music program.

"I teach 550 kids in nine grades," she calculated. "That's about 50 cents per student!"

DiBerardinis student-taught in Lower Merion and saw how the haves made beautiful music. She took a cue from her activist parents to do more for deserving city kids.

"We taught our children to never waste a crisis, because crises are a springboard for opportunity," recalls her mother, Joan Reilly, of the Pennsylvania Horticultural Society. (Dad Mike DiBerardinis is the city's Parks and Rec commissioner.)

"My students are extremely talented and eager to learn," Ms. D. wrote in her first appeal. So eager, she added, they "are rarely absent on the day they have music class."

Gifts to Welsh's music department, she advised, are tax-deductible. For ease, "a self-addressed stamped envelope is enclosed."

In 2006, the young teacher raised $6,500. In 2008, she collected $4,000. Last fall, she won a $5,000 grant from the Phillies.

Gov. Rendell's top policy aide, Donna Cooper, gives $100 whenever DiBerardinis asks.

"People tend not to see teachers as entrepreneurial," says Cooper, a longtime family friend. "But to enable a class to be interesting, you've got to be an entrepreneur."

Wendy Born, who co-owns Metropolitan Bakery, calls teachers "the unsung heroes of our society."

"When you give money to a large charity, you really can't see how it's put to use," Born tells me. "With Maura's work, you truly can."

On a recent Tuesday, 27 fifth graders file into Room 212, spitting gum into a trash can by the door. After mastering syncopation, they perform a catchy African tune.

Dry bones come skipping up the valley, some of them bones are mine!

An hour later, Ms. D. morphs into a modern-day Mary Poppins for 25 easily excitable kindergartners.

Let's tap hello, hello, she sings cheerily. Let's twist hello, hello. Let's clap hello, hello.

"Remember, Isaiah," she instructs one boy, "when you play the claves, hold it like a hot dog." The class erupts in a fit of giggles.

Welsh principal Jeanette Fernandez marvels at the young teacher's energy. DiBerardinis quadrupled the choir's size and raised money so the students can perform.

"We're required to have a music teacher," Fernandez sighs, "but we really don't have a music budget."

An added benefit of one teacher's enterprise? Because Ms. D. doesn't ask her for money, the principal can dole out more to others.

DiBerardinis, 26, urges other new teachers to raise money, too. "Even if you only get $200, that's $200 more than you had."

She dreams of a district fund for the arts. Until then, she closely monitors her own musical riches.

Tuesday, she proudly paid for her choir to taste another world with a gig for Mayor Nutter and 500 dignitaries at the storied Union League.

"A lot of my students have never left this community. They don't go downtown or ride the El," she explained. "For many of my families, a $2 SEPTA token is a real stretch."