Episode 273: Cheers to Accepting An Annoying Teacher Truth  

Well, hello there, studio teacher friends!  Welcome to your weekly shout-out of solidarity, otherwise known as the Beyond Measure Podcast. Christina Whitlock here, your host and self-appointed Anytime Piano Teacher Friend. I’ve been teaching private lessons for more than 30 years.  I don’t claim to have all the answers, but I DO have a lot of experience and I love unpacking all the human elements of teaching here alongside other thoughtful teachers like yourself. This show is supported by a terrific crew of people I call my SuperFriends, and if you are interested in joining in on THAT fun, membership does come with some pretty great perks. Check out ChristinaWhitlock.com/superfriends for all THOSE details, and in the meantime, let’s get on with the show!  Thanks for listening to the Beyond Measure Podcast.

I’m going to be brief today, friends, but I want to drop an important reminder your way. I talk a lot in this space about Teacher Truths. These are the realities of our profession that we need to embrace, for better or for worse. Today’s Teacher Truth is definitely a “for worse” kind of thing, because I consider it entirely unfair, and a little frustrating, if I’m being honest.

The truth of our profession that drives me absolutely nuts is this: We have NO control over what our students remember. We can cultivate the perfect lesson plans and communicate flawlessly. We can spend all kinds of money decorating our studios so they look they way we think a learning environment should look like. We can – and do – pour the best of ourselves into our students. We make brilliant analogies and tell engaging stories. We hold them to standards, we create performance opportunities. We build studio community by making sure our students engage with one another and feel part of something bigger than themselves. We choose repertoire that will help them grow, bend backwards to accommodate their crazy schedules, all the things, right?  We do SO MUCH to help ensure a meaningful lesson experience for our students…

…and, in the end, we have absolutely ZERO control over what they remember years from now.

This drives me nuts about parenting, and it also drives me crazy about teaching.

As a parent, you can plan the most magical vacation, and years later your child will tell you they remember the snack they got out of the vending machine at the rest stop.

As a teacher, I have MULTIPLE PEOPLE in my life who will swear that they don’t remember ANYTHING about their childhood piano experience besides the fact that their teacher had bad breath. SERIOUSLY.

The idea of that being my legacy just kills me. I’m DETERMINED for my students to remember *something* other than my breath when they talk about me later in life.  😊

(I’ve also heard people remember unpleasant smells of their teacher’s studios, so maybe this is a good reminder to make sure our studios are smelling fresh and unremarkable – ha!).

All jokes aside, I *do* wonder what students will remember about our time together. Obviously, I hope they will remember pianistic skills they learned here.  I actually feel pretty confident that most of my students will continue to play in one way, shape, or form in their future lives. But beyond the playing – what will they remember?

Two years ago, my students put on a benefit concert in a planetarium. It was amazing; there is an episode about that; I’ll link it in today’s shownotes. That concert is my favorite thing I’ve ever done in my teacher life and I’m not sure I will ever top it. It was special for a million reasons. I will never forget it. But will it rank in my students’ top memories?  I hope so!  But that is entirely beyond my control and I hate that.

Many of you listening love to throw big wonderful recital programs. I would say ANY of us who plan special events for our students to participate in – recitals, festivals, jam sessions, group classes, incentive programs, you name it – I think we ALL hope our students will look back on these things fondly. Truthfully, though, they will only remember so much.

It’s just rude. The NERVE of them to not remember our every effort. 😉

This also makes me wonder what I’ve forgotten about my own childhood experience. My first piano teacher really did go out of her way to give me great musical experiences.  She took me with a group of her college friends to see my first opera, she was forever setting me up with church gigs, along with opportunities to sing and play. I remember group classes in her tiny studio, recital days, and so much more. I am grateful for her many efforts in those early years. But what have I forgotten?  Surely some things…

Anyway, here’s why this matters. I’m not JUST griping to you about how unfair this is (even though I *want* to whine about it!). This is an important reminder to us to keep the main things the main things.  We shouldn’t get distracted trying to cultivate memories for our students. We shouldn’t put that burden on ourselves.  Instead, let’s teach our students to play well. Treat them with kindness, respect, and dignity. Help them feel capable, accountable, and invested-in. Connect with them. Have inside jokes and studio lingo. Make traditions. Challenge them and celebrate their victories. Teach them well, my friends, and they will remember more than your coffee breath.

Keep the main thing the main thing.

If you are on my email list and receive my Piano Teacher Confessions e-letters, you may recall one from last year titled, “It’s not my job to make my students happy”.  In that Confession, I explained why I don’t give energy to making my students happy. Part of that letter reads, “There’s a growing body of evidence to support the fact that, when parents focus on making children happy, they set them up for the exact opposite. As teachers, we would be wise to remember the same. Contentment is a funny thing. We all want it…but if it’s the only thing we’re chasing, we’ll never actually get there. Don’t get me wrong: If I were to run a Studio Satisfaction Survey right now, I expect 100% of my families would report being happy in their lesson experience. Their contentment matters to me, but I don’t achieve that level of satisfaction by trying to make them happy. I focus on doing my job well.

• I communicate well.
• I choose materials that fit the unique needs of each student.
• The pace of my lessons is based on what I see accomplished in front of me, not on what’s printed on the next page.
• I prioritize the human condition – in all its ups and downs. We explore, create, and laugh a lot.

At the same time, I’m not afraid to have tough conversations. When students are struggling to meet their goals, I provide feedback that is direct and timely.”

I’ll link the entire Confession in today’s shownotes, but suffice to say, I try to keep my focus on what we’re doing… and then I trust that what my students and their families feel will be reflective of that experience.

My hope today is that you will remember to keep the main thing the main thing, and stop chasing what we have come to call “customer satisfaction”. Again, happiness and satisfaction is a corollary to a job well done. It’s not something you have control over. Just do your job well and happiness will be your reward.

Okay?  I hope this serves as an important reminder to you today, friends. Grab the nearest glass and we’ll wrap up today with a toast!

Studio teacher friends: Today we commiserate that, despite our best attempts at curating an exceptional experience, we have no control over what our students remember. Our best bet is to focus on doing our jobs exceptionally well and treating the people we encounter with the highest levels of respect and encouragement. After all, it would be next-to-impossible for our studio families NOT to love us if we do those things, right? Right.  Go forth and do your jobs well, my friends.  Cheers to us for all the magic we will work this week!  Hear, hear.

That’s it for episode 273 of Beyond Measure, friends! This is an exciting one because NEXT WEEK we will celebrate SIX YEARS of Beyond Measure. 6 years! I can’t believe it. I’m so grateful.  We’ll be taking a fun look back at the moments that made Beyond Measure what it is today, so I hope you’ll join me for that next week. In the meantime, check out today’s shownotes for all kinds of related materials, and I’ll be back with you soon!  Onward and upward, my friends.