Alternate Take

Teaching Me a Lesson
Next to family, teachers can have the greatest
influence in our lives. Teachers can inspire, guide and
mentor. Conversely, a teacher can derail, extinguish
and ruin an otherwise promising career. As a student,
I’ve had it both ways. Fortunately for me, I was mostly
blessed with the former and my persistence and passion
for music outweighed the rancor and incompetence of
the latter.
Those who can’t “Do”, teach. We’ve all heard this
one, but it seldom holds true. Some of the best instruction
can come from marginal players. Many of the most
gifted players couldn’t teach a dog to sit. It really boils
down to three things. Can you impart your knowledge
in a manner that the student can comprehend? Do you
have the people skills necessary to reach beyond your
own ego? Do you give a damn?
My first inspirational encounter with a music
teacher was in grade school. Mrs. Barton would literally
wheel a spinet piano from room to room each week. Her
enthusiasm was infectious and I was quickly bitten by
the bug. My junior high (some time ago) band director,
Mr. Johnson, was so influential that, when he got
the job at the high school in the neighboring district,
I transferred to that school when I was of age. It was
worth it to me and my supportive parents, in spite of the
extra long walk to the bus stop across the boundary.
My college experience was varied, to say the least.
The teachers ran the gamut, from complete jerks and
imbeciles to gods and angels of academia. In the end,
I decided to quit school to play in bands. Upon learning
of this, my trumpet professor inadvertently uttered
the most inspirational words he could have spoken to
me: “You’re stupid. You’ll never make it.” I’m still here,
brother.
In my book, being a teacher is an awesome responsibility.
You can literally make or break careers and
everything you say or do has consequences, not unlike
life itself. I shied away from it for years, preferring to
work part time jobs that were far from the world of
music. I feared that I had nothing to say and had no
system by which to navigate. Any of my past or present
pupils will testify that I have overcome those obstacles.
I unexpectedly found that I love teaching. Imparting
your knowledge and wisdom to those who are open to
it leaves me with a feeling of accomplishment and fulfillment
that ranks with the most exciting gigs I’ve ever
played. Think of it- a piece of yourself literally travels
along a separate path, creating ripples far out into the
future.
Teaching styles can vary dramatically. Some resort
to berating and browbeating to stimulate. As a student,
I’ve always responded better to positive reinforcement,
hence my membership in that camp. However, occasionally,
one needs to impart a carefully chosen word
of criticism. The art to this is to deliver the message
without making it personal and keeping it devoid of
emotion. Many instructors have a problem with this aspect
of teaching. My son had a band director in middle
school who often resorted to temper tantrums, hurling
insults at his band members, quickly turning them off
and insuring that they lost all respect for him and his
methods. Some students will indeed test your patience,
but it is prudent to remember that, again, what you say
and do always bears repercussions.
Student attitudes also cover the spectrum. The best
just can’t wait to learn and that’s why they’re there. You
live for them, the sponges that soak up your every word
and keep coming back for more. They do the work and
often reveal quantum leaps of progress. They are the
gems that make you proud and humble and keep you
in the game.
Then there are the problem kids. You’ve got your
“add water and stir” variety, those seeking instant
stardom. Some just simply will not ever do the work.
Others, however talented, will simply never shut up.
I had one that would spend the whole hour trying to
convince me how cool he was. Once, I had a particularly
morose trumpet student who was not practicing
or improving. In a final act of desperation, I asked him
if he’d rather be somewhere else. “I’d rather be playing
drums”, he said. “Well, then, why don’t you?’, I replied.
Head bowed, he said that his father wouldn’t let him.
Tragic. I offered to speak to his father on his behalf.
“Oh please, no!” Some issues are just beyond the reach
of even the most well-meaning teacher.
In the end, all you want is some honest effort on
the part of your students. You’d like to feel that you’re
making a difference and that’s what it’s all about. It’s
certainly not about the money, which is negligible, and
in that sense it’s much like performing. You have to have
a passion for the job. If you don’t like it, do everyone
a favor and find another line of work. I wish some of
my teachers would have. As for the memorable ones, I
hope that I can continue their legacy of commitment
and pass on a little something of them through me.
—Stanton Kessler