Quality vs.Quantity
I've been thinking lately about quality versus quantity and how recognizing the difference can be applied to so many things in our lives. Initially, I started thinking about it again when a parent voiced a concern over how she didn't think her son was practicing enough compared to other kids his age. This student of mine entered his first competition this past weekend, but didn't win, and he also recently performed badly for his seating auditions in the youth orchestra he's in. His mother emailed me and said that she'd never want to be the kind of mother that forced him to "practice an hour a day", but that she didn't think 25 min. was cutting it anymore. Sheesh! That was the first time I was aware (that they openly admitted) he was practicing so little. This whole time, I thought they'd been practicing an hour a night, especially with his first competition coming up.
And then I thought, is it really only just about the time? On the one hand, I can see why some parents tend to zero in on just time spent practicing alone, rather than what's actually being done during that time; a lot of families run on tight schedules and routines, and somewhere in there, they have to squeeze in the practicing. Any more thought into it might just require a little extra time that they're not willing to surrender.
I'm pretty confident that 95% of my students' practice sessions seriously lack a large dose of focus and intricate thought--most of them probably are told "it's time to practice", the timer is set, and they prop their music on the stand and set their brain on "auto-pilot", and then it's all over in probably 30 min. If they do that every day then at least, I can hope for some consistency, but most of the time, I know they're nowhere near where they could potentially be if they only put a small percentage of concentration into what they were doing during those 30-60 minutes.
This reminds me of a scenario in high school; when I was a senior, we all had to take an Apologetics class (I went to a private Christian school), and our teacher was a no-nonsense, to-the-point kind of guy. I really enjoyed his classes and his talks because, unlike a lot of the other teachers at that school, there wasn't a whole lot of BS going on. Anyways, at the end of the year, we had our exam and the last question required a succinct answer. I don't exactly remember what the question was--might have had something to do with Plato--but I know our teacher was probably very amused with the variety of answers, as well as length of answers, that he saw when he had to grade them. When we got them back and were going over them, another teacher--the pastor and 10th grade Bible instructor--popped in to say hello to our teacher and somehow, the name of a particular student came up (she wasn't in the room) because her answer to this test question was notoriously long and out teacher jokingly said something about it casually to this pastor/teacher. The pastor got this look on his face and said, "Oh man! Suzy? Oh wow, I'm STILL reading her test answers from two years ago...man, are they profound!" He seemed thoroughly impressed with this girl and her on-the-surface breadth of knowledge. Once this pastor left, our teacher turned around, looked at us and said "One can be profound with a short and succinct answer; superfluity does not equal profundity". Basically, he saw her schoolwork as complete fluff and wasn't impressed by her at all, unlike the other guy.
I've always remembered that, and I think that carries through to a lot of other things: maybe an individual who talks themselves and their accomplishments up so much that it actually impresses a number of people, when in reality, there's nothing beneath the surface to the individual when you really look; there are those who lock themselves up in the practice rooms for hours on end and still get nothing accomplished. What were they doing?
So, my new pep talk and mantra to my students (and also to myself) is substance and quality over quantity. Stop being so concerned over how much time you've got left on that darned timer and start averting your attention to what actually needs to be done. Don't flip off the switch and let your fingers move in a robot-like manner while you're only thinking about the moment it's all over.
I have to nag my students about this, but sometimes, I think adults could stand to receive the same kind of reminder from time to time--I know I sure can.
And then I thought, is it really only just about the time? On the one hand, I can see why some parents tend to zero in on just time spent practicing alone, rather than what's actually being done during that time; a lot of families run on tight schedules and routines, and somewhere in there, they have to squeeze in the practicing. Any more thought into it might just require a little extra time that they're not willing to surrender.
I'm pretty confident that 95% of my students' practice sessions seriously lack a large dose of focus and intricate thought--most of them probably are told "it's time to practice", the timer is set, and they prop their music on the stand and set their brain on "auto-pilot", and then it's all over in probably 30 min. If they do that every day then at least, I can hope for some consistency, but most of the time, I know they're nowhere near where they could potentially be if they only put a small percentage of concentration into what they were doing during those 30-60 minutes.
This reminds me of a scenario in high school; when I was a senior, we all had to take an Apologetics class (I went to a private Christian school), and our teacher was a no-nonsense, to-the-point kind of guy. I really enjoyed his classes and his talks because, unlike a lot of the other teachers at that school, there wasn't a whole lot of BS going on. Anyways, at the end of the year, we had our exam and the last question required a succinct answer. I don't exactly remember what the question was--might have had something to do with Plato--but I know our teacher was probably very amused with the variety of answers, as well as length of answers, that he saw when he had to grade them. When we got them back and were going over them, another teacher--the pastor and 10th grade Bible instructor--popped in to say hello to our teacher and somehow, the name of a particular student came up (she wasn't in the room) because her answer to this test question was notoriously long and out teacher jokingly said something about it casually to this pastor/teacher. The pastor got this look on his face and said, "Oh man! Suzy? Oh wow, I'm STILL reading her test answers from two years ago...man, are they profound!" He seemed thoroughly impressed with this girl and her on-the-surface breadth of knowledge. Once this pastor left, our teacher turned around, looked at us and said "One can be profound with a short and succinct answer; superfluity does not equal profundity". Basically, he saw her schoolwork as complete fluff and wasn't impressed by her at all, unlike the other guy.
I've always remembered that, and I think that carries through to a lot of other things: maybe an individual who talks themselves and their accomplishments up so much that it actually impresses a number of people, when in reality, there's nothing beneath the surface to the individual when you really look; there are those who lock themselves up in the practice rooms for hours on end and still get nothing accomplished. What were they doing?
So, my new pep talk and mantra to my students (and also to myself) is substance and quality over quantity. Stop being so concerned over how much time you've got left on that darned timer and start averting your attention to what actually needs to be done. Don't flip off the switch and let your fingers move in a robot-like manner while you're only thinking about the moment it's all over.
I have to nag my students about this, but sometimes, I think adults could stand to receive the same kind of reminder from time to time--I know I sure can.
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