Dear Alma, The college wants me to give a concert and I can’t. Just can’t

Dear Alma,

I am in my mid-30’s, teach at a small private university (which is about a half-time job), and on the weekends I play in a wedding gig quartet. I am from a medium sized city, and by the end of high school, I had learned 2 concertos (only some movements) and the equivalent of a recital program. I played in my school and youth orchestras, playing a movement of my concerto in my senior year. I grew up in the Suzuki Method, and my teacher was very specific. She would keep me on pieces for a very long time, meticulously working on details. I moved away from Suzuki  when I was 16. I got into a solid music school for college but was absolutely overwhelmed by learning any new repertoire. Orchestra was a nightmare. I just sat in the back and faked it. I made up a slew of excuses from illness, injury and family problems to steer my teacher towards just reworking the pieces I already knew. When I graduated, I used these pieces and a well-spoken interview to get my university job, which I have had now for 10 years. I feel like I am living a lie. My school has been increasingly pressuring me to play in public, and I can’t even play the pieces that I am teaching. I never demonstrate. I try to only teach the handful of pieces I know but I think people are catching on. Some of my students complained to the administration. I spend half or more of the lessons on scales and etudes. They want me to play in a university quartet but there is no way. My reading ability is very low. I am starting to have panic attacks and all I do is try to pretend like I know what I am doing. 

Please help, I am drowning 

Dear Drowning,

This is not good. Not good for you, your health, or your students. When I read your letter, it screams UNHAPPY. You are not drowning, you are trapped in a frightening underwater nightmare, partially made by you, with a healthy dose of help from your current, blind music administration, your inexperienced childhood teacher and lazy college professor.

The one question I have for you is: do you love music? I honestly can see no love from your words, and this is the biggest concern, Drowning. Because without love and desire, music is a never-ending chore.

Is this what you want to do for your life? Or did you fall into it, and can’t find the courage to start a new career? This is the crux of the matter. I advise you to take some serious thought into what you want to do for your life. Mid-30’s is young. You have time to retrain for a new career. Maybe a related career, or an entirely new one. For example, you could even apply for an administrative position (at another music school or your current one), or talk to your school and see if you can transition into teaching classroom. You have weekend income from your wedding quartet, which doesn’t seem to give you any stress, so that income can sustain you partially as you transition into something new.

If you do want to keep teaching lessons, you need to buckle down, start to practice, and train yourself to become a better teacher. You can figure it out, if you have the passion and drive. Look at other schools and online resources to see what repertoire the students are playing in their recitals. Make a short list, and start to learn these pieces. For the current students, make it a priority to start to learn small sections of their pieces that you do not know, so that you can make solid suggestions and even start to demonstrate occasionally. Study recordings for nuance and fingerings. You can use resources such as (if you are a violinist) Simon Fisher’s books, or for cello, Practice Mind by Jensen. You can find a reputable online teacher for yourself, and take summer courses. You can ask your gig quartet to start to learn some Haydn or Mozart quartets. But you have to put in the hours. Lots of them. As much as you can – you have a ton of work to catch up on. But really, I don’t see this as the right choice.

I had a teacher for a summer who was an empty vessel. They gave me bland solo music, endless etudes and scales. I would come to the lesson, and the teacher would be sitting in their chair, with their slippers on, and wait while I unpacked. There was tension, and I didn’t know what to make of it, because I had been lucky to have always had warm, generous, funny teachers who were interested in furthering my interests and encouraged me to play with creativity and honest abandon. For this summer teacher, I would play my assignments, and then the teacher would ask me to play them again. After a second go-around, they would assign the next scale or etude, telling me to read and follow the instructions. There was a lot of material I had to prepare every week, and virtually no feedback or guidance. The teacher never made a move to unpack their instrument, make small talk, ask me how I was or what I needed help on. It felt like I was screaming into a void, like there was no oxygen in that dark, dank room. But maybe he was just scared shitless. Maybe he didn’t have the first idea of what to say, and was just desperately trying to stay above water himself. Maybe he was drowning.

This dark room is no place for you, and no place for your students. You both deserve better. You deserved better when you were a student, and your students now deserve the same courtesy. Release yourself from this whirlpool, let yourself dream of a new direction, and go towards it, no matter that it will take effort, money, and courage to leave this life behind.

Reach your hand up above the water. Someone will take it and help you into a new, better life.

Picture: Facebook Music Teachers page