What You Do Matters

The Circle That Called Every Voice Forward

It was the first drum circle at Ánimo Compton Charter School. The first time the students gathered in rhythm at this Green Dot public school. The first time they saw the line of African drums waiting just for them — newly delivered by DrumBus founder Mike Liston, who took a moment to explain the different drumheads before stepping back to witness something new take root.

Facilitator Ray Auxais felt it immediately — a current of anticipation, wonder, and possibility flowing through the room. Several of the students were part of the school’s drumline. Their skills showed early. During the Name Game — where each student creates a rhythm for the group to echo — a few tapped out rudiments so complex, even Ray found them tough to match.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was the sound of students honoring each other’s voice — beat by beat — and learning through their own self-discovery.

One student, Ethan, arrived with big energy and an even bigger presence. He joked, played, and disrupted. During the drum wave — where rhythm is passed around the circle — he refused to follow, throwing the entire group off. His classmates grew frustrated. The groove dissolved.

Ray paused. He looked around at the students and said:

“What you do matters.”

They talked about it — how rhythm only works when we listen to each other. How one person’s choices shape the whole. That moment stayed in the room.

Later, Ethan tried again — this time playing right on cue. One student began to clap. The others joined in. Ethan beamed. Then he was chosen to lead a movement-based game, where the circle followed his steps. He danced, they drummed, and the rhythm returned — full of joy, full of life.

By the end of the session, another student complimented Ethan’s leadership. Something in him settled. And Ray made a quiet note to give him more chances to lead — because sometimes, transformation begins not with correction, but with recognition.

Other moments emerged — spontaneous, bold, unforgettable. During one jam, a student layered in vocals. Another followed. Then another. Ray stopped the drums entirely, allowing the voices to rise in a cappella, then he brought the beat back beneath them like a wave returning to shore. The whole circle felt alive.

One student from the drumline didn’t want to leave. When his name was called for early dismissal, he stalled, asking, “Why do I have to go?” Ray gave him a knowing smile, with the gentle reassurance there would be a next time. As he finally stepped away, the class sent him off with a proper DrumBus salute — a symbol that he belonged, and was loved.

At Ánimo Compton, something began.

A new rhythm.
A new way to be seen, and heard.
A circle where every voice counts —
and every step forward is carried in sound.

And a lasting reminder that what you do will always matter.