Today, I Confess: I Don't Think We Teach the Way We Were Taught.
(not exactly, anyway...)
A common sentiment among piano teachers is this: "When I started teaching, I didn't have any training, so I taught the way I was taught."
I spent years saying the same thing, celebrating the beauty of choosing what to keep and what to change.
Upon further reflection, however, I don't believe this is true.
We don't teach the way we were taught. We teach the way we remember being taught....
That remembering part? It's important.
As you've likely discovered, memories can be deceiving. If nothing else, they are certainly selective.
We've all experienced this scenario: You teach a concept. You say and do all the "right" Teacher Things.
...only to have your student come back, shrug their shoulders, and say they haven't learned that yet.
Mental recall is a fickle beast.
I remember interactions more vividly than most, and even *I* couldn't tell you the bulk of what my teacher taught during my earliest lessons.
Here's what I definitely DO remember: the materials she used, her overall demeanor, and the way she made me feel.
...I can recall her amusement by the gnomes on the original cover of John Thompson's Easiest Piano Course (my first-ever piano book).
...I remember learning Italian tempo markings because they were printed at the top of the page for Persian Market (in Bastien's Level 1 Lesson Book).
...I remember getting hyper-fixated on I-IV-V7 chord progressions (thanks again, Bastien!) and creating my first oh-so-repetitive compositions from those chords.
...My first "official" scale book is the foundation of my earliest memories about technical patterns (if you're curious, that was Alfred's Complete Book of Scales, Chords, Arpeggios, and Cadences) .
While those are a handful of memories about my early lessons, very few of those recollections include HOW I was taught. I remember what I did, but not necessarily how I was instructed to do it.
Interesting, right?
There were some logistical things I replicated in my own early teaching days: sticker prizes for pieces learned, recital formats, etc., but very little of the actual instruction I was given.
I can't tell you how my teacher taught me about staccato, but I do remember obsessing over them in The Bullfrog.
There are many takeaways here... each of which deserve their own e-letter. I'll be speaking more on these ideas later in April. For now, here are some things to consider:
- Teaching the way you remember being taught is a selective process. If you find yourself thinking, "My teacher never did x/y/z", you might be right... but you might also be wrong. 😅
- Choose your materials wisely. Our books might make a longer-lasting impression than we do.
- Prioritize how you make students feel. Students won't remember everything you say, but - for better and for worse - they will surely recall how they felt in your presence.
- Telling Is Not Teaching. Our students' takeaways are a result of many things. Hearing it ≠Learning It. Robert Duke speaks on this better than anyone. If you have an hour, check out this lecture he gave at Cornell.
So.... Have I made my case? Do you agree we don't start out teaching the way we were taught?
Moreover, what do YOU remember of your early piano studies? HIT REPLY and let me know!
🥂 May we be ever aware of what we are REALLY teaching; not just what we are saying. 🥂