Today, I Confess: Music is Not a Status Symbol
Fair warning: Today’s Confession features a Teacher Lesson wrapped around details of my mother’s recent death. If that is going to be difficult for you to read today, please skip this one. No hard feelings. 💗
I have yet to tell this story publicly, but I hope it helps add some fuel to your Teacher Fire today…
If you’ve been following me for any length of time, you know we’ve been saying a “long goodbye” to my mom as she found herself in the final stages of Parkinsons Disease and Lewy Body Dementia. My brother has been her fulltime caretaker at home.
A few days after returning from a visit with her, I suggested I might call the next day to play for her over the phone. She’d lost the ability to speak, but my brother said she seemed pleased with the idea.
The next day, I got a call from my brother who simply said, “If you’re going to do it, do it now.“
I knew instantly what he meant.
I grabbed a book of sacred song arrangements that my mom listened to me play in church growing up and made my way to the piano.
My brother put his phone on speaker, laid the phone on mom’s belly, and held her hands. My 10-year old, home on Fall Break, stood behind me with her arms wrapped around my neck. I could hear my brother crying, and eventually, the call ended.
That’s how my mom left the earth: with my brother beside her and sounds of God Will Take Care of You drifting through the phone to her ears.
(note: it is believed hearing is the first sense we develop inside the womb, and the last to leave the body)
Truth be told, I’m afraid you’re going to think I’m being dramatic by writing this to my email list… but I feel compelled to share because I’m humbled (and so grateful) for the gift of being present with her in this, the next-best way.
It was gracious of my brother to share that moment with me, and I’m forever thankful the circumstances aligned in the way they did.
And here’s your Teacher Takeaway, friends…
I’m so guilty of making music something different than it’s meant to be. I’ve used it as a status symbol, a way to earn affirmation, to prove my worth, to let my perfectionist-tendencies run wild…
…but in those tender moments, as I played my mother Home, none of my credentials mattered. I wasn’t a “professional pianist”. I felt like my 12-year old self, playing hymns in a small country church, simply offering my contribution in hopes of adding some beauty to the world.
That’s what it’s about, friends.
I’m a big fan of high standards and I love helping students strive for maximum artistry at the instrument. I always will.
At the end of the day, though, I want to stay focused on equipping students to bring beauty to the moments around them, regardless of how “accomplished” they are.
This week’s podcast is all about finding middle ground in our work, and this story fits right in. I’ve worked hard in my musician life: developing technique, studying the repertoire, learning what distinguishes “professional” from “amateur”.
…but as it turns out, the most meaningful playing of my life shared a direct connection to what I was doing at age 12. I appreciate my advanced skills, but they are not the most important part of my musicianship.
The next time you are questioning your students’ progress (or lack thereof), I hope this story comes back to you as a reminder that our work enables moments like these to happen – no specific technical prowess required.
It’s no small thing, friends. Keep working your Teacher Magic. 🌟
🥂 May we never lose sight of the fact that we are equipping students to bring beauty into their everyday lives, whether they play the correct scale fingerings or not. 🥂
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NOW IT’S YOUR TURN: What were you playing when YOU were 12? Leave a comment below and tell me! I’m eager to hear the responses to this one…
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