Kincardine music teacher wins Canadian Teacher award for innovative coding-music program

Music and code were two languages for the same thing: creating something that didn't exist before.
Ruetz explains why he brought Earsketch into his classroom, bridging technical and creative learning.

In Kincardine, Ontario, a music teacher named Turner Ruetz found an unlikely bridge between two seemingly distant worlds — the logic of code and the language of music — and in doing so, opened a new creative doorway for two hundred young students. His months-long commitment to the Earsketch program, which taught grades four through eight to compose songs through written code, earned him a Canadian Teacher Award this fall. It is a reminder that the most enduring education often happens not in the pursuit of prizes, but in the quiet, patient work of expanding what young people believe they can make.

  • A music teacher stepped far outside his comfort zone, trading instruments for Chromebooks and melodies for lines of code — a bold pivot that could easily have faltered.
  • Two hundred students across five grade levels had to learn simultaneously how to think like programmers and feel like artists, a tension that demanded weeks of careful, layered instruction.
  • Ruetz invested his own time in YVIP training sessions before bringing the curriculum to his students, ensuring he could guide rather than simply assign.
  • Two of his students reached the competition finals, a concrete marker of how far the class had traveled — even if neither took home a trophy.
  • The Canadian Teacher Award, along with a $1,000 prize, arrived as formal recognition that the real achievement was never the competition, but the two hundred students who learned to create something new.

Turner Ruetz, a music teacher at St. Anthony's school in Kincardine, spent months guiding roughly two hundred students through an unconventional project: learning to write code in order to compose music. Using a platform called Earsketch, students in grades four through eight used their Chromebooks to build songs by writing instructions rather than playing instruments. The immediate occasion was the YVIP Coding and Music competition, which two of Ruetz's students entered and carried all the way to the finals.

But the deeper story lived in the classroom. Before introducing the program, Ruetz attended YVIP training sessions to understand the curriculum himself — a deliberate act of preparation that shaped how confidently he could lead his students through it. He met with classes once or twice a week depending on grade level, guiding them through the unfamiliar logic of syntax and loops while keeping music — and meaning — at the center.

The lessons reached beyond technical skill. Ruetz wove in conversations about racial equality and the role of music as a vehicle for self-expression and empowerment, helping students see that coding and creativity were not separate territories. For a teacher whose year normally revolved around instrumental performance, it was a significant shift — and one that arrived at exactly the right moment, when students were already living much of their learning through Chromebooks.

This fall, the Canadian Teacher Award committee recognized Ruetz's effort with both a formal honor and a thousand-dollar prize. The recognition belonged not only to the two students who competed, but to all two hundred who discovered that the logic of a program could be a doorway into making art.

Turner Ruetz, a music teacher at St. Anthony's school in Kincardine, spent months last year guiding roughly two hundred students through an unconventional project: learning to write code in order to compose music. The program, called Earsketch, let students in grades four through eight use their Chromebooks to create songs by writing instructions instead of playing instruments. It was ambitious work, and it caught the attention of the Canadian Teacher award committee, which recognized Ruetz this fall for his dedication to the effort.

The immediate catalyst was the YVIP Coding and Music competition. Two of Ruetz's students entered the contest and made it all the way to the finals, though neither advanced past that round. But the real story wasn't about winning a trophy. It was about what Ruetz built in the classroom while preparing them.

Ruetz didn't walk into this blind. He signed up for training sessions offered through YVIP's Zoom platform to understand the program and competition structure before bringing it to his students. What he learned convinced him it was worth the effort. He decided to roll out the full curriculum across his music classes, meeting with students either once or twice each week depending on the grade level.

The program wasn't just about syntax and loops. Ruetz wove in conversations about racial equality and how music functions as a tool for self-expression and empowerment. Students learned that coding and creativity weren't separate worlds—that the logic of programming could be a gateway to making art. For a music teacher whose usual year involved instrumental performance and practical playing, this was a significant pivot. But it arrived at exactly the right moment. Many students were learning on Chromebooks, and this gave them a way to make something meaningful with the technology they had.

The unit stretched across many weeks. It required patience from both teacher and students—learning to think in code while also thinking musically, understanding how rhythm and melody could be expressed as instructions. Ruetz guided them through every step.

When the Canadian Teacher award was announced, Ruetz's name was among the winners. The prize came with a thousand dollars, awarded to teachers who demonstrate exceptional commitment to their students' growth. The recognition acknowledged not just the two students who competed, but the two hundred who participated in the broader program. It was recognition that sometimes the most valuable teaching happens not in pursuit of a trophy, but in the patient work of opening a new door for young people to create.

I signed up for some YVIP Zoom Training sessions to learn more about the program and competition, then decided to try it with students grades 4-8. I followed the program leading students in conversation about racial equality and how music can be a means of giving people a voice and power to express themselves.
— Turner Ruetz
This unit of study took many weeks to work through. My typical programming for the year would have certainly involved instrumental music and practical performance so this program couldn't have come at a better time allowing students to create music with their Chromebooks.
— Turner Ruetz
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Inventor

Why did you decide to bring a coding program into a music classroom? Weren't you already teaching music the traditional way?

Model

I was, but I saw an opportunity. When I learned about YVIP and Earsketch, I realized coding and music weren't opposites—they were two languages for the same thing: creating something that didn't exist before. And my students had Chromebooks. This gave them a tool they actually had access to.

Inventor

Two hundred students is a lot to move through a multi-week program. How did you manage that scale?

Model

I met with different classes once or twice a week depending on the grade. It took patience, but the structure of the program helped. And I wasn't just teaching them to code—we talked about why music matters, about how it gives people a voice, especially around questions of equality and expression.

Inventor

Your two students who competed in the finals didn't win the competition itself. How did that feel?

Model

Honestly, it wasn't the point by then. They'd learned something real. But what mattered more was that two hundred other kids had also gone through this experience. The award recognized that.

Inventor

What surprised you most about watching students learn this way?

Model

How quickly they understood that music and code were the same problem solved two different ways. Once they got that, the technical part became less intimidating. They were making something, and that's what kept them going.

Contáctanos FAQ