How Far with Student Personal Issues
Found in: Relationships, Students
Jo C., Australia
I was just speaking with an adult student about how she is too afraid to play in front of anyone in case she makes a mistake, even her husband! She also mentioned that it is always her left hand that she can’t remember and has to always go back to the video to revise what this hand needs to do. Naturally I wanted to explore this with her as it is clearly holding her back from progressing. She has told me before that she was hit over the knuckles as a child in her lessons. I was curious to know which side the teacher sat on and guess what? The left hand side. I hope this realisation has helped her. My question is how far do we as teachers go with these types of conversations, given we aren’t therapists. Some of these memories that create ongoing beliefs around a students ability to play can be quite traumatic. I would really love to hear your thoughts. Thank you for any insights.
Neil Moore
Here’s my response to Jo’s question:
Discussing Student’s Personal Issues
Mark M., New York
I don’t know an authoritative answer to how far, but I so appreciate that you’re asking the question. What occurs to me is this. No, we’re not therapists. But even therapists cannot simply expect people to open up to them — trust must be built. If we’re willing to ask questions, we can ask, and we can do so without expectation of answer. We can up front let students know that we absolutely respect however much or little they may want to say in response to a question we’d like to ask. And if we do ask, and if they do answer, then we can remember that a therapist’s job is to heal, and they are trained to do so, but anyone can be a compassionate listener and a validating presence. And even that can make an enormous difference for someone.
Jo C., Australia
Thank you for such a thoughtful reply Mark. That resonates with me. This particular lady poured out the whole entire story to me + her daughters experiences of piano lessons. It was as though she had held it in for so long and all of a sudden someone was prepared to listen which is great as a first step. I guess I had a deep desire to direct her in the way of some tools that have helped me that she might like to investigate to explore the feelings further but felt this may be overstepping into a therapists area. I’m wondering if a question like “If I was you would you like to know what I would do” would be helpful or detrimental. For example, sometimes I have suggested that students journal around a particular experience of belief. Is that the same as writing lyrics for a song about something? I’m sometimes unsure how to navigate this fine line.
Mark M., New York
Jo The impulse to want to help further is understandable. And generous. And, also, something to be cautious about, and it’s really great that you also recognize that.
If someone feeling raw asks for advice/tools, you can give.
If someone feeling raw has not asked for advice/tools and you just decide to offer, it might be received okay, but it very well might not — un-asked-for advice is often highly unwelcome and upsetting, to anyone, but especially if they are upset/raw.
If someone feeling raw has not asked for advice/tools and you have some to give, you can ask them if they are interested in hearing advice/tools from you or just a compassionate ear or both. They have the power to say yes/no to whatever they want to. If they say they want only a compassionate ear, it’s probably best you leave it at that, even if part of you is burning to offer more. If they say they’re open to advice, then you can give it. And then it’s up to them whether or not to pursue/use it in whatever way. And all of this, too, falls under what anyone can do — it’s not the exclusive purview of therapists.
One thing to watch out for is “if I were you.” It’s usually easier for people to hear something if you keep things framed from your own perspective. “This is what I’ve done,” “if I were faced with that, I would…” It’s just stating what’s true for you and can give food for thought. On the other hand, “If I were you” can come across as imposition, just like un-asked-for advice.
Jo C., Australia
Mark great clarifications Mark. I really appreciate you helping me think this through ‘out loud’. I’m much clearer now, especially around what I’m allowed to do and what isn’t appropriate. Very helpful, thanks!
Mark M., New York
Jo You bet. These are challenging things. And “best practices” are not what we tend to learn about or be exposed to throughout our culture. And when we are fortunate enough to be exposed to them, they often remain challenging to apply. When in doubt, mindfulness, compassion and boundaries are some things to fall back on.
Kerry V., Australia
Jo in light of her experiences, I always acknowledge how brave they are to, regardless of the past, of their previous experience, that they have stepped up to play again, WITH A TEACHER. I acknowledge how they now have the opportunity to move forward with joy and having music AS. a true companion now as a friend, not a threat.
Jo you know what it is like for a coach? ! The coach will guide the client but ultimately it is ALWAYS up to the client to progress but up to the coach to guide.
Evan H., Kansas
I posted this in another group regarding fear of playing in front of others. I hope it helps you!
“What are you afraid of?”
Have you ever experienced the dreaded “stage fright?” Perhaps you had to play in front of your teacher, who would hear every mistake? Or maybe you had a larger audience; you could feel their silent stares piercing into your very consciousness, shaking the foundations you had carefully laid over many hours of practice?
I struggled with this a lot!
Many teachers encourage their students with words such as, “Oh, don’t worry! You’ll sound great! You’ve practiced it so much!”
These words are well-intentioned (and I have used them at times), but they seem to have little effect. Further, if the student makes a mistake anyway, they might start to believe that they “aren’t talented enough” or that “music isn’t for them”!
How does one defeat this monster? Can it even be tempered in some way?
Here is what I do now to help students battle this.
Student: “I’m afraid of this performance.”
Me: “Why? What are you afraid of?”
Student: “That I’ll mess up.”
Me: “Okay, no worries. I want you to imagine something for me.”
Student: “Okay.”
Me: “Let’s pretend you’re in a performance now. What is the absolute worst situation you can imagine?”
The student will tell me the tale. It usually involves a paying audience (or just a very large one), all eyes and hears are fixed on them, the stakes are as high as possible…and they play horribly. So horribly, in fact, that the audience boos them off the stage. (They might even throw tomatoes!) People get angry, demand their money back, and the student is humiliated.
Me: “That sounds pretty horrible! Now let’s pretend you’re backstage. You’ve just finished. Your parents are there. What happens now?”
Student: “They probably give me a hug.” (The student’s parents nod and smile when they hear this.)
Me: “Great! What happens right after that?”
Student: “They probably take me somewhere to get ice cream.” (The parents usually smile and agree.)
Me: (chuckling) “Maybe I should have messed up more performances when I was young. How do you feel when you go to sleep that night?”
Student: “Still terrible.”
Me: “Okay. What about the next day?”
Student: “Still bad, but not as bad.”
Me: “What about at school that day? What if you bump into a friend who saw you play that evening?”
Student: “Still embarrassed, but not as much. My friend would probably just encourage me or not say anything.”
Me: “They’d still be your friend?”
Student: “Oh yeah.”
Me: “How do you feel a week afterward?”
Student: “Probably forgotten all about it.”
Me: “A month afterward?”
Student: “Still forgotten.”
Me: “A year? Five years? Ten? Twenty?”
Student: “Don’t even remember.”
Me: “And one day when you have kids of your own, maybe it’ll be a funny story you tell them?”
Student: “Yeah!”
Me: “Alright. So you don’t remember it for even a week afterward. And that was the absolute worst thing you could imagine?”
Student: “Yeah, I guess so.”
Me: “Now, how likely do you think this is to really happen?”
Student: “Not at all, really.”
Me: “Does this monster seem as scary as it did before?”
Student: “Not really.”
See how this works? Encouraging words only deny the monster’s existence. Simulating the scenario gives the student their own weapon and trains them to use it. They can rehearse this scenario as often as they need to. They can defeat the monster themselves, any time, anywhere. As they perform more, they gain confidence and are set free to have fun. And if we’re having fun, our audiences will have fun, too!
What is your worst-case scenario? Simulate it in detail. Write it down. Make it as ugly as possible (within reason). And then ask, “How likely is this to really happen?”
Does this monster seem as intimidating as before?
Have fun and just go for it. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?
Happy performing!
Original discussion started January 19, 2022