In which I discuss why music teachers need to stop hating fun

Tonight I went to a performance of a play in which one of my voice students was participating. The production was very well done and much of the acting was excellent--which is pretty impressive for young high school students. The play (The Ballad of the Sad Café) took a bit to draw me in and was unfortunately one of those works of art where the whole theme is "Life is nasty, brutish, and short", but I'm still glad I went.

But! That's all just set-up for the conversation that formed the genesis of this post. After the show, I got to meet my student's parents and talk with them a bit about her progress. I asked them at one point about other instruments that she had studied and they mentioned that she had taken piano for about 3 years with an IU music education major. While the girl had enjoyed her lessons and her teacher for quite a while, she became disillusioned with piano when her (assumedly well-meaning) teacher had declined to let her practice and play jazz--instead wanting the student to stick with "the standards", i.e. Classical music.

The result? She quit.

Another music student lost because of this, frankly, ridiculous notion that only the traditional Western Classical canon of music is worthy of study.

Sigh.

Now, I realize that I don't have the whole story here and there may have been other factors that led the girl to stop taking piano lessons, but still. This anecdote bespeaks an attitude that makes me absolutely furious.

As far as I can tell, this student has no intention of majoring in music. She just likes music and performing in plays and musicals. Why on earth would you squelch a student's budding love for music by refusing to let her play a genre that she actually loves and has an interest in? It was even JAZZ, for pity's sake.

It is this kind of narrow-minded nonsense among some classically-trained musicians and teachers of music that I think underlies all the hand-wringing about the always-imminent death of Classical music we often hear about. While I think a lot of that rhetoric is seriously overblown and alarmist, I DO believe that it could be a very real scenario if we as musicians continue to insist upon teaching our students nothing but the canon, especially if all they are is amateurs interested in music-making.

So, music teachers. Get off your high horses. Letting your student play or sing jazz, pop, etc. isn't going to kill them or their technique. It is not beneath your dignity as a pedagogue. Music is about expressing emotion. Music is about fun. And your obligation to that student is letting them do just that.

In which I root for the underdog

Today was the first day of my annual waterfront lifeguarding course and perhaps for the first time ever since I became a Lifeguarding Instructor (LGI), all my students passed the prerequisite skills. It was inspiring, really.

On the first day of class, potential lifeguard candidates are required to undergo a pre-course session that tests whether they have the skills and comfort in the water to endure the demands of the class. Those that have been competitive swimmers usually find this to be a breeze, but it's pretty grueling for everyone else, especially those with less-accomplished stroke technique. I've seen people literally make themselves sick attempting to complete it. In fact, when I was originally trained, I finished the 500 meter swim--in a backyard pool that was less than 25 meters which meant I had to do about 40 laps instead of the usual 20--only to climb out and throw up all over the deck. (Although, in my defense, I was just recovering from a long-term illness.)

What's so inspiring in all of this is watching the swimmers who are less sure of themselves stick it out and finish the tests, despite the pain and exhaustion. Determination and the ability to push past discomfort and get the job done are valuable traits in a lifeguard, particularly when someone's life may be on the line.

This morning, I had one girl, in particular, who barely squeaked into the course. But man, she wanted it and when the chips were down, she got the job done. It's going to be a great week.

In which I wonder how the heck I got to this point

When I was in fifth grade, I remember telling my homeroom teacher Mrs. Noble that I was going perform on Broadway when I grew up. It was a sure thing and I was very serious about it. I think she expressed some good-natured skepticism about this idea which I promptly shot down.

My love of musicals continued unabated until high school when my mother got the brilliant idea of taking me and my friend C to a touring company's performance of Puccini's "La Bohème" in State College. Opera quickly displaced the musical as my genre of choice.

I entered my undergraduate years at Oberlin fully intending to have a performing career as an opera singer. I had many a thrilling experience there (including enough weird anecdotes about Obies to write a memoir) and some great performance opportunities. However, by the end of undergrad, and as I transitioned to grad school at IU, my singing technique was in shambles, my confidence was shot, and my performance anxiety had become almost intolerable.

With my arrival at IU, I still clung to the idea of having a performing career. I abandoned my up-until-then usual course of auditioning for everything in sight in order to get my technique back in working order and diffuse the performance anxiety. Still auditioned for cattle calls (the big open auditions for the university's six mainstage productions), but was only cast in a small role after three years (Although I did get to wear the BEST. COSTUME. EVER.) and an ensemble part almost three years after that.

Somewhere in all of this, I decided that what I really wanted to do was teach. The idea had actually been percolating in my head since my senior year at Oberlin, but I think I was in denial about it for many years. I had identified myself as a singer--as a performer--for so long that it was a very difficult and slow process to reconfigure what I viewed as a core aspect of my personality.

A few weeks ago, I was having a conversation with another singer friend in which he stated that he felt "called" to the profession. That sentiment struck me for some reason, perhaps because I rarely hear people outside of the Church use it in that way. But I finally realized that I did at last feel "called" to my profession as a teacher and that I was satisfied with that. Part of me thinks that all those years of angst over being a performer may have been necessary for me to realize that it wasn't for me.

So hey, I guess I finally know what I want to be when I grow up.