Shy Asian Girl Needs to Vent
I need to warn you: HUGE vent coming up right now. I know it's been quite awhile since I've done that--the logical part of my brain says that it's wiser in the long run to keep certain things off limits on cyber space-- but the other part of my brain, whichever part requires I keep my sanity, NEEDS to purge...and purge badly.
If you haven't read this blog and are new to the party, a little history: I'm a musician who teaches private music lessons who--much like 95% of her fellow violinists who went on to study their instrument at a higher level at a conservatory--never set out originally to teach, but rather, saw herself performing in whatever capacity involving performance...orchestra, chamber music or a mixture of both with teaching being in the extremely faint background. Fast forward more than a decade and I do more teaching than anything else, really. It pays the bills and turns out to be more stable than trying to find a playing position (which is a whole other blog post that has already been over-analyzed and written at length by many--I don't need to do that right now). Lots of musicians are in my boat. For the most part, even though I never envisioned myself doing this the majority of my time, teaching has been rewarding and has taught me more than I ever expected. I think I'm a better and more thoughtful person and musician because of my teaching experiences.
But a couple of times a year....I think I'll lose it!
Go on any teaching forum, talk to any teacher (not just music, either) and ask them what is the #1 thing they hate the most about teaching. Parents! Sometimes it's a blatant, obvious problem (helicopter parents, parents who want to exert their control over you for the sake of just having control) and other times it's a parental problem that has seeped into their children where it's a matter of poor parenting skills. My hands are usually tied there. I have no business telling parents how to raise their children, but yet how they teach their children to behave, to treat others in this life...that still affects me as their teacher.
I'm rambling. Of course, this "about to lose my bananas" spell I'm going through usually comes after an incident or two; it always takes me awhile to completely digest the events, but when I do, I OVER absorb and analyze. It's no wonder I lose sleep over students three to four times a year. Should I say I actually lose sleep over students' parents and my dealings with them. That would be more accurate.
The most recent incident was over the weekend when I did a smattering of makeup lessons due to a snow day we had on Friday. Up until now, I made it a habit of personally driving to students' houses to do makeups if they lived within 10 minutes of me in my area. On a regular basis, I do not do this as I teach out of three studios and students come to me for lessons. Any time I go to someone's house, it's out of sheer courtesy and desire to be accommodating to them. At any rate, I taught a lesson Sunday morning--late morning, not early--to a kid I've been teaching for over five years (Not sure when it happened, but whenever it was we both discovered we lived within 5 minutes of each other, the mom started asking me to come to their house if they ever couldn't make it to the studio [12 minutes away]; at the time, it seemed reasonable. Now I regret it). I showed up at his house on time...and he opens the door in his pajamas. Okay. If I recall, this isn't the first time this has happened. But I'm a pretty polite person and really try to be sensitive to children, so I didn't say anything the first time and I didn't say anything this time around. My first impulse was to laugh and be amused that he felt so comfortable with me that he didn't even care to put real clothes on.
I taught the hour lesson (which was spent with my giving him direction and him proceeding to ignore everything I said only to have me interrupt him countless number of times to make him to do it over and over) and then left. He didn't even thank me for coming over, just said "bye" and let me out the door. His dad was the only one in the house and his mom was out running an errand with the little sister.
So I come home to my husband and relay what just happened as I initially found it amusing...except as I'm telling him, I'm surprised that I'm actually pissed. Completely pissed off. Instead of it being amusing and cute, what just happened suddenly seems completely undermining and disrespectful. It dawned on me that this kid (who I have to remind myself is actually not really a little "kid" anymore...he's in high school. I'll just always think of him as a 9 year old, I guess) had so little regard and respect for me as his teacher, he didn't even bother to put f*****g pants on. And my husband agrees; he also tells me it seemed unprofessional to even go to their house to teach a lesson--students come to you, not the other way around. I never really felt that way before about it...but when I started recalling every single scenario where I would go to a students' home, I suddenly remembered that it was a very strange and annoying atmosphere to be in. You don't feel in control....more like...a servant? Every damn student I ever taught in their home were completely distracted and acted completely different than in my studio. You're on their turf now.
How could I have been so naïve to not see that one coming?
So even though I realize I set a precedent with all these students whose houses I was calling on for their convenience, I made a decision right then and there to never, ever go to anyone's house ever again. Sorry, student-with-no-real-pants-on: you've officially ruined it for everyone else.
Something else happened several months ago that I'm surprised I kept off of here; it was one of the more strange encounters I've had with a parent and it upset me so much that I actually went out of town to my parents' to "recuperate". I lost a lot of sleep and weight over the course of those 3-4 days, too (similar to what I'm feeling right now--congratulations, Gaby: you hit 100 lbs. yesterday...that hasn't happened since before you were married!) And yes, full disclosure: I AM overly dramatic. I admit it. The tiniest infraction can send huuuuge ripples into my psyche. And I AM a woman. I picture my husband in my place during these situations and all I can envision is him shrugging his shoulders and telling these parents to "Eff off". And sleep like a baby later that night.
So back in the summer, I was to inherit a few violin students from my "boss" the director of a studio I work at. To her own admission she is not a trained violinist, and so only teaches beginners up to a certain level. She then passes those students on to me. This particular family involved two adopted sisters she was teaching whom she absolutely loved and they loved her back. She taught them for several years (too long, IMHO, to be stuck in the early Suzuki books) and then for the last two or so was trying to wean them off of her and onto me. Well, the mom resisted. She was scared of change and of having to introduce a new teacher to her daughters. I'm sorry....tough shit....life is all about changes. The sooner you teach your kids to not fear it, the better. Again, should have been a warning sign to me before I agreed to take them on as students.
So finally, we all agree on a starting date: when we both return from our summer vacations. I taught them for approximately a month where I suspected no troubled feelings or hesitations on their part, and actually thought things were going pretty well. I enjoyed teaching both girls, although the older one was a little reserved and skeptical of me, most likely because I didn't shower her with praises on her playing as the previous teacher used to do--but for the most part, the mother didn't interfere or ask questions and I took that as a good sign that they were happy.
Nope.
They come in on what turned out to be their last lesson with me (I had no idea) and the first thing I say to the mom is "Hi! How are you?". Nothing.. She brushes past me, mouth in a firm straight line, and sets her girls' books on the stand and then turns and walks out the door. Okay fine. Maybe she didn't hear me and she's had a rough day. I let it slide.
I finished up the hour teaching both girls and the mom comes in to discuss lesson time changes for the new school year. I offer what openings I currently have and apparently it doesn't work for them. My one opening that COULD work for them falls on their "Family Night" and she doesn't want to sacrifice that. Oh, okay. I don't know what else to offer her and what happened next is what threw me off. With normal parents, if you have a time they don't particular like, but it's all you have...they find a way to make it work. But this is no normal parent. She starts bawling. BAWLING. A 50 year-old woman is crying in my studio and shaking her head at me and at how "awful" I'm treating her and her family, particularly as they've been loyal to the studio for 7 + years. How could they be treated like this?!
I'm speechless. My first impulse is to comfort her--I even leaned in a little and touched her arm foolishly thinking she needed a hug. She just pulled away and kept sobbing as she slowly walks out the door of my room. I rambled, trying to explain her own behavior out loud to myself as she was really giving me no explanation on her own for this reaction: "Oh, I'm so sorry...I know how hard it was for you to make this change from your last teacher...she told me all about it it--", but no, apparently that's not it, as the mom raised her hand to cut me off, shaking her head "No, that's not it".
She turned around suddenly, briefly stopped the sobbing, and dramatically asked, "Please, PLEASE tell me you love teaching children?!!" And I'm stunned at the question. First thought running through my head is, "What the hell did I do to warrant a question like that?" I thought things were going well!! In my own stupidity (in hindsight, don't we all think of a better reaction? I hate that!) I answer her question. "Yes, of course I love teaching children! I've been teaching for over a decade." (Really? What the f**k did she think I was going to say?)
"Oh, okay" was all I got, and that was the last time I saw them.
I later heard from my boss that they immediately found some other random teacher in the area (so much for her claim that finding the "right" teacher was important and required careful thought and timing), and also demanded a refund for their lessons with me, as they left in the middle of the month.
So it's obvious this woman has a few screws loose--but I'm also equally troubled by my own response. I'd like to think that I'm on a different planet--a more sane and logical planet--than individuals like that. And if that's the case, this shouldn't cause me any worry, right? But it DOES! Every. Single. Time. I go to that dark place that one should never bother going to. I question my own competence, my own sanity. Do I have some sign on my forehead that says "Schmuck here. Please treat me like shit!"? I swear, that's how parents make me feel sometimes.
And just so you know, there is no resolution to this post. Those families will continue on with their lives thinking they're fine and dandy, never really knowing or realizing how idiotic they are; I'll continue on just fine, too--and yet...that feeling...that thing inside of me--in all of us--that wants all things to be even-keeled and completely just in the world...to put people in their places... desperately wants all of those parents to know how moronic they are. I want to bump into them on the street and see the look on their faces and how awkward they feel around me, and I want to shake them hard and say, "You're a terrible person, you know that?!" And then walk away.
But sane people don't do that. Professional musicians don't do that.
And so I won't. If I ever bump into one of those people at the mall or a restaurant, we'll probably both plaster fake smiles on our faces and exchange pleasantries.
Hopefully this has been entertaining. Purge over.
If you haven't read this blog and are new to the party, a little history: I'm a musician who teaches private music lessons who--much like 95% of her fellow violinists who went on to study their instrument at a higher level at a conservatory--never set out originally to teach, but rather, saw herself performing in whatever capacity involving performance...orchestra, chamber music or a mixture of both with teaching being in the extremely faint background. Fast forward more than a decade and I do more teaching than anything else, really. It pays the bills and turns out to be more stable than trying to find a playing position (which is a whole other blog post that has already been over-analyzed and written at length by many--I don't need to do that right now). Lots of musicians are in my boat. For the most part, even though I never envisioned myself doing this the majority of my time, teaching has been rewarding and has taught me more than I ever expected. I think I'm a better and more thoughtful person and musician because of my teaching experiences.
But a couple of times a year....I think I'll lose it!
Go on any teaching forum, talk to any teacher (not just music, either) and ask them what is the #1 thing they hate the most about teaching. Parents! Sometimes it's a blatant, obvious problem (helicopter parents, parents who want to exert their control over you for the sake of just having control) and other times it's a parental problem that has seeped into their children where it's a matter of poor parenting skills. My hands are usually tied there. I have no business telling parents how to raise their children, but yet how they teach their children to behave, to treat others in this life...that still affects me as their teacher.
I'm rambling. Of course, this "about to lose my bananas" spell I'm going through usually comes after an incident or two; it always takes me awhile to completely digest the events, but when I do, I OVER absorb and analyze. It's no wonder I lose sleep over students three to four times a year. Should I say I actually lose sleep over students' parents and my dealings with them. That would be more accurate.
The most recent incident was over the weekend when I did a smattering of makeup lessons due to a snow day we had on Friday. Up until now, I made it a habit of personally driving to students' houses to do makeups if they lived within 10 minutes of me in my area. On a regular basis, I do not do this as I teach out of three studios and students come to me for lessons. Any time I go to someone's house, it's out of sheer courtesy and desire to be accommodating to them. At any rate, I taught a lesson Sunday morning--late morning, not early--to a kid I've been teaching for over five years (Not sure when it happened, but whenever it was we both discovered we lived within 5 minutes of each other, the mom started asking me to come to their house if they ever couldn't make it to the studio [12 minutes away]; at the time, it seemed reasonable. Now I regret it). I showed up at his house on time...and he opens the door in his pajamas. Okay. If I recall, this isn't the first time this has happened. But I'm a pretty polite person and really try to be sensitive to children, so I didn't say anything the first time and I didn't say anything this time around. My first impulse was to laugh and be amused that he felt so comfortable with me that he didn't even care to put real clothes on.
I taught the hour lesson (which was spent with my giving him direction and him proceeding to ignore everything I said only to have me interrupt him countless number of times to make him to do it over and over) and then left. He didn't even thank me for coming over, just said "bye" and let me out the door. His dad was the only one in the house and his mom was out running an errand with the little sister.
So I come home to my husband and relay what just happened as I initially found it amusing...except as I'm telling him, I'm surprised that I'm actually pissed. Completely pissed off. Instead of it being amusing and cute, what just happened suddenly seems completely undermining and disrespectful. It dawned on me that this kid (who I have to remind myself is actually not really a little "kid" anymore...he's in high school. I'll just always think of him as a 9 year old, I guess) had so little regard and respect for me as his teacher, he didn't even bother to put f*****g pants on. And my husband agrees; he also tells me it seemed unprofessional to even go to their house to teach a lesson--students come to you, not the other way around. I never really felt that way before about it...but when I started recalling every single scenario where I would go to a students' home, I suddenly remembered that it was a very strange and annoying atmosphere to be in. You don't feel in control....more like...a servant? Every damn student I ever taught in their home were completely distracted and acted completely different than in my studio. You're on their turf now.
How could I have been so naïve to not see that one coming?
So even though I realize I set a precedent with all these students whose houses I was calling on for their convenience, I made a decision right then and there to never, ever go to anyone's house ever again. Sorry, student-with-no-real-pants-on: you've officially ruined it for everyone else.
Something else happened several months ago that I'm surprised I kept off of here; it was one of the more strange encounters I've had with a parent and it upset me so much that I actually went out of town to my parents' to "recuperate". I lost a lot of sleep and weight over the course of those 3-4 days, too (similar to what I'm feeling right now--congratulations, Gaby: you hit 100 lbs. yesterday...that hasn't happened since before you were married!) And yes, full disclosure: I AM overly dramatic. I admit it. The tiniest infraction can send huuuuge ripples into my psyche. And I AM a woman. I picture my husband in my place during these situations and all I can envision is him shrugging his shoulders and telling these parents to "Eff off". And sleep like a baby later that night.
So back in the summer, I was to inherit a few violin students from my "boss" the director of a studio I work at. To her own admission she is not a trained violinist, and so only teaches beginners up to a certain level. She then passes those students on to me. This particular family involved two adopted sisters she was teaching whom she absolutely loved and they loved her back. She taught them for several years (too long, IMHO, to be stuck in the early Suzuki books) and then for the last two or so was trying to wean them off of her and onto me. Well, the mom resisted. She was scared of change and of having to introduce a new teacher to her daughters. I'm sorry....tough shit....life is all about changes. The sooner you teach your kids to not fear it, the better. Again, should have been a warning sign to me before I agreed to take them on as students.
So finally, we all agree on a starting date: when we both return from our summer vacations. I taught them for approximately a month where I suspected no troubled feelings or hesitations on their part, and actually thought things were going pretty well. I enjoyed teaching both girls, although the older one was a little reserved and skeptical of me, most likely because I didn't shower her with praises on her playing as the previous teacher used to do--but for the most part, the mother didn't interfere or ask questions and I took that as a good sign that they were happy.
Nope.
They come in on what turned out to be their last lesson with me (I had no idea) and the first thing I say to the mom is "Hi! How are you?". Nothing.. She brushes past me, mouth in a firm straight line, and sets her girls' books on the stand and then turns and walks out the door. Okay fine. Maybe she didn't hear me and she's had a rough day. I let it slide.
I finished up the hour teaching both girls and the mom comes in to discuss lesson time changes for the new school year. I offer what openings I currently have and apparently it doesn't work for them. My one opening that COULD work for them falls on their "Family Night" and she doesn't want to sacrifice that. Oh, okay. I don't know what else to offer her and what happened next is what threw me off. With normal parents, if you have a time they don't particular like, but it's all you have...they find a way to make it work. But this is no normal parent. She starts bawling. BAWLING. A 50 year-old woman is crying in my studio and shaking her head at me and at how "awful" I'm treating her and her family, particularly as they've been loyal to the studio for 7 + years. How could they be treated like this?!
I'm speechless. My first impulse is to comfort her--I even leaned in a little and touched her arm foolishly thinking she needed a hug. She just pulled away and kept sobbing as she slowly walks out the door of my room. I rambled, trying to explain her own behavior out loud to myself as she was really giving me no explanation on her own for this reaction: "Oh, I'm so sorry...I know how hard it was for you to make this change from your last teacher...she told me all about it it--", but no, apparently that's not it, as the mom raised her hand to cut me off, shaking her head "No, that's not it".
She turned around suddenly, briefly stopped the sobbing, and dramatically asked, "Please, PLEASE tell me you love teaching children?!!" And I'm stunned at the question. First thought running through my head is, "What the hell did I do to warrant a question like that?" I thought things were going well!! In my own stupidity (in hindsight, don't we all think of a better reaction? I hate that!) I answer her question. "Yes, of course I love teaching children! I've been teaching for over a decade." (Really? What the f**k did she think I was going to say?)
"Oh, okay" was all I got, and that was the last time I saw them.
I later heard from my boss that they immediately found some other random teacher in the area (so much for her claim that finding the "right" teacher was important and required careful thought and timing), and also demanded a refund for their lessons with me, as they left in the middle of the month.
So it's obvious this woman has a few screws loose--but I'm also equally troubled by my own response. I'd like to think that I'm on a different planet--a more sane and logical planet--than individuals like that. And if that's the case, this shouldn't cause me any worry, right? But it DOES! Every. Single. Time. I go to that dark place that one should never bother going to. I question my own competence, my own sanity. Do I have some sign on my forehead that says "Schmuck here. Please treat me like shit!"? I swear, that's how parents make me feel sometimes.
And just so you know, there is no resolution to this post. Those families will continue on with their lives thinking they're fine and dandy, never really knowing or realizing how idiotic they are; I'll continue on just fine, too--and yet...that feeling...that thing inside of me--in all of us--that wants all things to be even-keeled and completely just in the world...to put people in their places... desperately wants all of those parents to know how moronic they are. I want to bump into them on the street and see the look on their faces and how awkward they feel around me, and I want to shake them hard and say, "You're a terrible person, you know that?!" And then walk away.
But sane people don't do that. Professional musicians don't do that.
And so I won't. If I ever bump into one of those people at the mall or a restaurant, we'll probably both plaster fake smiles on our faces and exchange pleasantries.
Hopefully this has been entertaining. Purge over.
Comments
Also, most people don't innately handle a crazy situation "the right way" on the first go-round...heck, I bet even those who seem to do a better job (to us, the outsiders) secretly question/have doubts about it.
I hope with this vent you can let some of this go; don't beat yourself up over any of it. People are weird.
I know it's not flattering to oneself to complain; but letting it all out can feel liberating:)
I appreciate the wise words, thank you.
Definitely putting my foot down now on making house calls, for sure.
Thanks for the kind comments.
When I started studying voice in college, I thought that's what I wanted to do with my life. I'd been passionate about music all my life, and I couldn't imagine doing anything else. However, I quickly realized that music was best-suited as a really great hobby for me. I'm a bit of a music snob, but not enough of one to give up my evenings off to practice or to choose piano / voice over a visit from my family. My professors, however, did this sort of thing on a regular basis, and they became frustrated that I did not put the same amount of effort into music as they did. Admittedly, they probably could have coaxed more out of me by spending more time praising what I did well than my "criticizing" what I did wrong, but the fact remains that I know I caused them a bit of grief. I highly doubt they took it too personally, but it was hard for me to be that student of someone who was so dedicated to his craft. Fast forward a few years, and I'm a dog trainer. I love dog training. I spend every waking moment with my dogs. I wake up at 4:30 in the morning to take them for runs, and I opened my training business just to spend more time with them (yes, I'm that crazy lady). It is very frustrating for me to encounter clients who claim they don't have time for their dogs or who just can't seem to understand their dogs are dogs and not little humans. I get frustrated when it's obvious a student isn't working out well (particularly if I can't pinpoint why), and it's even worse when I hear they've gone to another trainer. Over the past few years, though, I've learned to take the good with the bad. Sometimes it's just not a good fit, and that's OK. Other times, though, you can find a really great client who makes everything right in the world again. Hopefully you encounter a slew of that type of student soon. Good luck!!