The last day…

I just taught the last lesson of the semester and I have an hour break before our weekly studio class (Texas Tech always ends semesters on a Tuesday). Normally this would be practice time or time to gather my multimedia equipment if someone is using it for a studio class performances today. But as the semester goes on my ability to make productive time use choices diminishes and free hours in the month of May are more often spent scrolling and surfing for things to do or trips to daydream about. Or maybe it is the Wordle/Connections/Strands triumvirate of intellectual time-killing and self-protection against dementia and boredom.

But not today.

Today I’m philosophical. I have been working on my writing in anticipation of a new project (I’m not yet ready to use the word “book”) about my teaching, specifically what I have learned in 24 years as an applied music professor. I’m reading Maggie Smith’s “Dear Writer” and Anne Lamott’s “Bird by Bird” (for the second time) and working my way through their recommended writing assignments. I have written stories, essays, poems, and letters over the last few weeks and it has led me to be far more than typically reflective as I look back on this semester and school year.

As I prepare for the final studio class of the semester, I often make a list of our achievements during the year so we can see the enormity of what 14 to 20 people working together can accomplish. I also try to prepare what I will say about the students who will be graduating or are student teaching in the following semester. How will we sum up their years of work in our studio and how can I best describe what I value about their contributions? And I do all of that today. But I also keep coming back to a single question.

Are we happy?

I have hit life’s reset button pretty hard over the last few years so I think this question is more on my mind than ever. I’m experienced enough in therapy to know that adding or eliminating people, achievements, or activities from my life is not enough to bring happiness. Is a professor with 15 students happier than one with 12? Is a professor who has a graduating student moving on to a top graduate program happier than one who does not? Pointless questions—you’ll find miserable and happy teachers in each of those situations with no correlation.

But do we think enough about happiness as a goal of education, as a reason for our institutions large and small to exist? Does anyone humble brag about their students being happy?

What I have learned

I have had years when my students crushed it in competitions and I was miserable. I have had years when my evaluations were stellar but I felt like I failed all my students. I did some of my best teaching ever during the pandemic, received the lowest teaching rating of my career on my annual evaluation for calendar year 2020, and still felt pretty good about the work I had done. So if I had to sum it up (and I do because this is getting long for an initial post), what would I say brings me joy and happiness in teaching?

1. Students surprising me. Lower achievers becoming higher achievers. High achievers showing compassion, empathy and support for their peers. Students discovering new paths for learning.

2. Creativity. Creating new assignments for students and being inspired by how they adapt and adjust to them. Giving students space to guide their own learning and seeing what they do with that space.

3. Encouraging independence and enthusiasm. Seeing students need me less and less yet still show up each week ready to learn something new.

That’s pretty much it and it is those three basic ideas that I most want to explore here. To be clear, I don’t consider myself a master teacher, but I do consider myself a reflective teacher. So this will not be a how-to manual for becoming a master teacher but I hope it will be a space for encouraging your own reflection and better awareness of how you relate to yourself and your students in your role as teacher. You’ll also be helping me by being a sounding board as I work toward some type of project (don’t call it a book yet) based on these reflections.

If that sounds appealing, hit the “subscribe now” button and check in here for occasional meditations on the art of teaching an art form.

Thanks for reading!

Kevin