8 Toward the Current Democratic Music Teaching with Music Technology Adam Patrick Bell A decade ago I spent a summer as a whitewater canoe guide in eastern Ontario, Canada. The organization I worked for was not your typical out- door adventure company; we catered to marginalized youth and adults from at-risk programs servicing Toronto’s low income neighborhoods, men- tal health drop-in centers, and support programs for people with acquired brain injuries. As a not-for-proft organization funded by the generous dona- tions of various individuals and parties, our “trippers” as we called them, were able to take part in weeklong camping and canoeing experiences for free. An infrastructure, both physical and social, was created so that some of our society’s most neglected individuals could participate in a meaningful and often very liberating outdoor adventure, an experience that was, sadly, a novel concept to most of the trippers we took down the Madawaska River, which we endearingly referred to as the “Mad” River. A Method to the “Mad”-ness As a guide I was responsible for navigating my paddling partner through sets of whitewater rapids. To “run” a set of rapids, the canoe must be launched in the calm waters above the whitewater section; you willingly enter chaos from the serene. Water has a wonderful method of communi- cating to you that the scenery is soon to change: it roars. The river roars so loudly in fact that it is intimidating. Each time I commenced the process of entering the whitewater I simultaneously felt excitement and trepidation. On one hand, I was responsible for the safety of another human being and if we “swamped” our boat I knew I’d be swimming for two to ensure the tripper was fushed down the rapids without injury. On the other hand, I was confdent in my abilities and could visualize a dry-ish passage down the river. I knew what I needed to do, and if I properly executed the timing and power of my strokes, I could provide my paddling partner the thrill of a lifetime in which we would share this visceral experience that is bet- ter communicated with a holler than the most apt adjectives a language can provide; it was a calculated risk that I took each time. The person in the canoe’s stern (the back) has considerably more power in steering, so I would bark orders (in the nicest and calmest manner possible when one