Audition Thoughts Part 22: Long Road to Success

I have a job.  A FOREVER job.

• An institution believed in me enough to invite me into their compensation  program until I'm 65 or deemed incompetent through formal review.  
• A department of music vetted me through a 6-month long process and determined that I had what it takes to prepare musicians for successful careers in music.
• A group of well-established colleagues felt I would be a good person to work with for the next several decades.

Those all seem a little strangely worded but that's what it means to be given the opportunity to work in our field as an educator or performer.  It's a commitment worth a lot of time and money to everyone involved.  

A few words about my position:
BYU-Idaho doesn't use a typical tenure track system.  Their system is called CFS - Continued Faculty  Status - which takes three years to complete.  It is a teaching - not research - driven process.  I'm encouraged/expected to complete my terminal degree and will be given the time to do so.  In addition, BYU-Idaho is a university "without rank" which means that we de-emphasize formal titles and opt instead to address each other as Sister and Brother.  This is also part of the culture of our faith as Latter-Day Saints.  Some faculty adhere to this, others ask to be addressed as Dr/Professor.  

My students call me Sister Crawford and when they graduate they call me Elizabeth. 

I'm still trying to get someone to call me Your Highness, Queen of Bassooning.  But no takers...yet.  

How does it feel?

To capture the magnitude of securing a salaried position with medical, dental, vision, professional development support and retirement, I need to reflect on the long road that got me here.  

• Age 14 started teaching beginner piano to pay for lessons at Hochstein School of Music and later Eastman School of Music community education.
• Age 15 started going to music camps and joined an "elite" youth orchestra.
• Age 17 attended and graduated high school from Interlochen Arts Academy.
• Worked various odd jobs in high school and college: ice cream girl at "Frosty's," camp counselor at Interlochen, janitor, Rite Aid, Boston Market, Resident Assistant in dorms, office assistant in Student Life, U.S. Army - which had it's own long list of non-musical duties
• Went on active duty in the U.S. Army as a bandsman
• Went off active duty
• Stopped playing seriously, sold my bassoon for 3 years to try being a stay-at-home-mom
• Went back to school for my masters degree with a graduate assistantship
•  Free-lanced for 3 years while in grad school and in the Army National Guard and took MANY orchestra auditions
• Won a salaried orchestra gig and toured with an educational outreach quintet for 4 years
• Won a visiting artist position in higher ed and taught in that position for 2 years 
• In my second year applied for and secured a permanent, CFS position

That's a long list and it's missing a lot of details.  

This has NOT been a linear process and I'm not where I imagined myself when I was an undergrad at Manhattan School of Music.

Have you seen the movie/read the book, "Marley and Me?"

There's this great scene where Owen Wilson looks at his wife, Jennifer Aniston, and, upon reflecting on where they are in their lives, he asks, "Is this where you imagined us?"  

She responds, "Isn't this better than what we imagined?"

(That might be a horribly inaccurate quote but that's how I remember it.)

I am not where I imagined myself!  

I have been given so much more along this journey - much more than I would have given myself had I done only what I planned on.

I always tell my students, 

Better to have a plan and depart from it than to have no plan at all.

In summary, I'm deeply and profoundly happy...and grateful, so grateful to so many mentors/friends/colleagues.  

But those words don't even begin to capture the relief, excitement, realization of hopes, affirmation of hard work, return on investment, security, and continued progress that this "job" represents to me.  

Several people congratulated me with the words, "You deserve this!"  I've gotta admit, I don't think I deserve anything.  But I do think I have earned this privilege...and will have to keep earning it while never forgetting all the work that got me here.

You don't set out to have a career.  A career happens in all the little, day-to-day decisions you make as you meet the work of being a musician.

Now, get to work!

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

My family enjoyed a trip to Yuma, AZ over the holidays.  This involved approximately 40 hours of drive time through some of the most stunning countryside the intermountain west has to offer.  It also afforded my husband and I ample time to reflect and discuss our family and our professional lives - a fitting and valuable discourse as we welcome a new year.

Of course our conversation strayed to the topic of teaching, which continues to become a more significant part of my career.

I began teaching privately when I was 14 years old.  I taught beginner piano to subsidize the cost of my private studies at Hochstein School of Music and later in the Eastman School of Music community program.  

For me, teaching has often been a means to an end.  A way to earn income to support my greater goals as a performer.  It has ebbed and flowed in size and value for the last 21 years but I have learned to love teaching while also developing into a resourceful educator.

I was asked recently about my teaching  philosophy, a pretty standard question in academic circles.  But not a question I have ever been asked before.  However, I found myself responding with a thoughtful and honest answer: in 21 years of performance based instruction I have learned that I don't desire or intend to make performers; instead, I aspire to mentor young people through the medium of music.  

With this in mind and with my bassoon studio the largest it's ever been, I have identified three things that I most enjoy in my students:

1. Discipline
2. Engagement
3. Preparation

Because the likelihood of me creating a world class performer is realistically very slim, I have come to put very little value in talent.  Talent has a place but it's not necessary nor expected of my students and can even get in the way of productive learning.  

Discipline however is invaluable.  I define discipline as the ability to apply oneself with consistency through setting and achieving short and long term goals i.e. years of applied effort.  The discipline of a student who practices in earnest for 20 minutes, 5 - 7 days a week, does far greater good than the student who logs 2 distracted hours the day before a lesson.

I relish working with a disciplined student.

Engagement to me is the collaborative energy my student brings into a lesson.  No yawning, no excuses, no complaints.  Engage with me!  Be able to articulate what is wrong with your reed, what passages gave you trouble, what pieces you want to play.  There is an endless amount of knowledge I can attempt to shove into your brain, but it is limited by how much you can receive.  This process of giving and receiving knowledge is dynamic and requires an engaged, student-teacher collaboration.

I savor the moments when an engaged student can verbalize their concerns, their goals, and their plans.

Preparation is key!  

Nothing new here.  (Carry on ladies and gentlemen, there's nothing to see here…)

...except to say that preparation to me does NOT mean perfection.  I evaluate preparation through an obvious identification of effort.  If you arrive each week with perfection, bravo, it's time to find a better teacher.

???

Am I a mind reader?  Do I have hidden cameras in the cases of my students? How do you know if a student has prepared or if they just *can't* do it?  

I know you have prepared when I see effort. For example: you attempt a C major scale in 3 octaves for the first time in our lesson as part of an assignment.  You get to a high A...stop...look at me…”ummmm...how do I finger a high A?”

YOU HAVE NOT PREPARED!

A prepared student plays a C Major scale in 3 octaves, they get to the high A, they slow down (fine with me), they play the A but hold down the wrong flick keys, they immediately recognize the mistake, slide their thumb up, hit the high A and continue with the turn-around having totally abandoned the metronome for a much slower tempo.

It is not perfect, but I KNOW you prepared.  I also know that you will CONTINUE to prepare and I am confident that it will steadily improve.

It is my distinct pleasure to work with students who are prepared.

It may seem antithetical for a music teacher to disregard talent.  But my philosophy is NOT about cultivating a rare talent; my philosophy is that I can assist you in being a better person, a happier, more successful and valuable member of your family and your community by helping you develop three crucial, life-long skills: discipline, engagement, preparation.

REFERENCE:

Nobel Winner and student bassoonist: Thomas Sudhof

Nobel Winner and student bassoonist: William Moerner

Rainn Wilson from "The Office"

Also, because I can't think of the phrase "Be prepared!" without my mind straying to this Disney classic:

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