Today, I Confess: It Won't ALL Be Awesome...
My ultra-anxious kiddo spent a week at an overnight camp this summer and - as per usual - I found an important Piano Teacher Takeaway in the mix.
(Connecting everyday life lessons to teaching is my superpower). ๐
Parenting anxious children has taught me a lot about establishing healthy expectations before nerves have the chance to derail everything.
She was excited to go. So many people were telling her how amazing the week would be.
As we drove to camp, I began to sense trouble on the horizon. I noticed she was putting a lot of pressure on the week to be perfect. It was going to be pure fun, filled with play and meaningful connections.
I was confident camp would be all those things for her, but I've also learned those are TOUGH standards for any experience to live up to in the moment.
(It's like taking a family vacation. There *will* be moments of conflict and discomfort, but when all is said and done, we're still glad we took the trip. Usually. ๐)
When we spend a lot of time anticipating the start of something new, the first sign of difficulty can be jarring.
It's easy to spiral into thoughts of "it wasn't supposed to be this way".
The danger is this: We don't want the shock of these (inevitable) hiccups to cast a disproportionate amount of negativity on what we're experiencing.
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We need to expect bumps in the road and be intentional about keeping those moments in perspective.
Case in point? Teachers at the start of a new school year. ๐ค
(my apologies to those of you in areas where Back to School is still several weeks away. Enjoy your summer!) ๐
I love the optimism that comes with a "fresh start" for the new school year. It's my favorite kind of energy.
...but inevitably, I start hearing tales of disappointment from fellow teachers come September.
"I spent all summer designing this new incentive program, and it's been a total flop."
"My perfectly-crafted schedule has been blown to smithereens."
"Parents aren't cooperating with new expectations."
"I feel so undervalued."
Let's be clear: those are all legitimately distressing feelings. I don't want to brush them off.
The lesson here is to look deeper at the cause of those feelings. The hurt can often be traced back to a single comment from a parent or student.
Rationally speaking, we all know one remark from one person does not count as an accurate reflection of the entire studio. Sometimes it's difficult not to feel that way, though, right?
My hope today is to remind you our best laid plans *will* face unexpected challenges. That doesn't mean they were faulty plans. It doesn't mean you made the wrong decision.
...it's just a reality of working with people. People are tricky business. ๐
When my daughter texted me from the 2nd day of camp, panicking because her eyes were swollen from a bad reaction to grass pollen, I had the presence of mind to remind her: Not EVERY MOMENT will be awesome, but it can still be a great experience.
...and I'm here to remind you of the same thing.
NOT EVERY MOMENT of this teaching year will qualify as awesome, but that doesn't mean we should dismiss the whole thing as a disaster with the first sign of trouble.
I once heard a professional pilot say something akin to the following: Yes, the job is stressful. There are plenty of reasons to grumble about it. But we should never lose sight of the fact that - in the end - we live a Peter Pan fantasy every working day and that's pretty great.
I feel very much the same about piano teaching. There are plenty of temptations to let circumstances sour you, but when all is said and done, we earn a living doing work that matters. That is pretty remarkable, friends. Hooray for us. โฃ๏ธ
๐ฅ May we keep our eyes on the prize, knowing glitches in the plan are to be expected. Let's celebrate the fact that our work makes EVERYONE better: our students, our communities, and ourselves. ๐ฅ