Tough Love

In a previous job, a number of other faculty and myself were involved with a big "parent education project."

The plan was to come up with resources that would help parents help their kids succeed in music lessons.

As tends to happen in a complex organization, the project took about a year and a half to complete. Not that it needed that long. It was just an on-again, off-again kind of thing.

You know, like an unstable relationship...

But at last, the project came to completion. The plan was to publish a page to the school website. A page with direct information that would motivate and guide parents to help with their kids' practicing.

The page included some sobering facts - such as the often-quoted statistic that about 80% of music students quit within their first few years of study.

And that, in order to avoid becoming part of that 80%, setting a practice schedule is a necessity.

There were other details there as well, such as ensuring students actually read the assignments week to week.

All things that came from our collective love of teaching.

From our desire to help families understand how this music stuff works so their kids can succeed.

And to help them make the most of their investment by providing clear, direct, honest, helpful information. 

The day the parent education piece was supposed to be published, the administration swooped in and shut the whole thing down.

For one simple reason.

Parents and students will be intimidated by this, and it will hurt enrollment.

End of discussion.

A year and a half of work wasted. Two of my colleagues wept right there at the meeting table.

While this was a unique situation, this happens all the time in the music teaching world.

Teachers know a direct conversation needs to be had about a struggling student's habits and behaviors.

But, the fear that mom or dad may simply pull the plug upon hearing the news is too much. And so, the teacher remains in a holding pattern with the student to keep the income rolling in.

In the big picture, this never helps anyone. It doesn't help the student, who continues to struggle for lack of clear feedback. It doesn't help the parents, who place their trust in the teacher's feedback (or lack of feedback).

And it doesn't help the teacher, who has to go on lesson after lesson in quiet unrest. No amount of money can make up for a lack of integrity.

We love our work, and we love our students. We love them enough to be honest, direct, and clear (while remaining kind, of course).

When times are good, and when times are not-so-good.

When a student, parent, and teacher have that level of trust, honesty, and communication, life-changing things happen.