Schoolhouse Rock

In a saner culture, Barbara Klaskin Harris would probably have never metamorphosed into Mrs. Music. But in 30 minutes, she will see that her charges--on this morning, a class of second-graders at Vena Avenue Elementary School in Arleta--get more musical instruction than many students do in their entire K-12 experience.

Accompanying herself on piano, autoharp or dulcimer, Harris, who dons a treble clef necklace, whisks the children from the Revolutionary War (“Yankee Doodle Dandy”) through slavery (“Pick a Bale of Cotton”) to the Civil War (“When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again”). She links popular songs of bygone eras with pivotal inventions--”Come, Josephine, in My Flying Machine,” for example--and has re-created the flapper era with “Ain’t She Sweet.” And she has been known to spin “Rum and Coca-Cola” on a vintage gramophone.

“I hated history, I couldn’t remember anything,” recalls Harris, a former model. “I made myself promise that if I teach, I will teach music and history together.” This can translate into song-and-dance narratives with a high corn factor: Enthusiastic kids, armed with miniature American flags, who parade in circles to the tune of “Johnny.”

By her own acknowledgment, Harris, who also leads the West L.A. Children’s Choir, is no virtuoso. But as long as she’s filling a void, Mrs. Music will soldier on: “This is the one aural link we have that we can pass down.”