Polyphony: re-evaluating in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.

This is the first "Polyphony" column I have written since Hurricane Katrina hit land. So many of us watched with disbelief and anguish the destruction, pain and horrors that afflicted so many. A major city in our country was nearly destroyed and additional areas in the Gulf Coast were completely destroyed. One could not help but to put themselves in the shoes of the individuals who lived and worked there--who had homes there....

One of my earliest memories as a small child in 1954 was fleeing from Hurricane Hazel in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, after police knocking on the door to evacuate beach residents, awoke my parents in the night. Storm tracking was much different then and the hurricane was expected within a few hours. We evacuated in the middle of the night in the pouring rain--a terrifying experience for us, even though we were always safe.

Each of us has struggled personally with how we might help the victims. Many reading this have responded by giving to the Red Cross or other agencies working directly with Hurricane Katrina victims. Others felt the need to give blood or respond to another kind of call to help. Millions have prayed for those directly affected, as well as prayed for the rescue workers and those maintaining the peace. Many throughout the country felt helpless, as if what they could do somehow did not seem enough. And yet, everyone does what they can--contributing in their own way.

While it may sound coarse to mention this, there are teachers in the ravaged areas who may have had their last lessons with their students due to destruction and loss of instruments, displacement of families and homes or because of even more dire situations. Memories, hopefully, will be of the well-placed laughter, engagement with the music, and connection between student and teacher as partners.

Affect on Music Teachers

As music teachers, we too will change in some ways because of Katrina. While our lives have not been disrupted or our homes and livelihoods destroyed, many of us will find ourselves changing small aspects of our lives.

One way is through the inevitable--a renewed personal vow to live in the present, in the moment, and to strive to be aware of what is happening right here and now. One avoids the present when continually looking toward the future, anticipating and even worrying about events that may or may not occur. To live in the moment, in the teaching studio, involves taking time to notice the feelings of the student in relationship to what is happening in the lesson--the anxiety over a certain piece when it is time to play it, and perhaps alleviating that even before the student plays through the student-teacher interaction. Living in the moment could involve recognizing the euphoria of a student who is playing a new piece, even with many learned inaccuracies, for there is still a balance here. The student's feeling is not to be overlooked when dealing with inaccuracies. Similar analogies can be recognized in dealing with the feelings of the student during the lesson.

As teachers more aware of the moment, during lessons we can take more time to connect with the student rather than hurrying to a technical assignment or squeezing in yet several more points of instruction. Or we may simply allow time for the student to focus on a point that is difficult to grasp during a lesson. This comes with full awareness of working it out in a future lesson, but preserving the student's balance of confidence and feelings of success in the present.

Something to relax the teaching situation for students and teachers occurs when we step back and allow learning to take place. Recently, a teacher wrote me saying that her students somehow seemed more settled and happier in their lessons this fall. They were in the flow of things, and she seemed to be doing less and worrying less about them. She said, observing herself, 'Tm much more relaxed now. Sometimes I think I just try too hard! Sometimes you need to let the children learn instead of trying to teach them, if that makes any sense. Let the children learn ... hmm." What authentic insight, for we often forget that one cannot "make another learn" but, rather, we can open the doors for them and pave the way for learning to happen.

Living in the Present

Once, I saw a series of written questions for an individual to take stock of how he wanted to live and conduct his life as a professional. I have adapted those questions to our work as music professionals:

1) If my relationship to music were a person, what would I want it to suggest to me about the decisions I make about practicing, performing, listening and involvement in the musical community?

2) If my students were my mentors and advisors, what would I want them to say to me about my work with them and my relationship to them?

3) If my life were a person, what would it want to tell me about how I treat it?

Answering these questions can help bring awareness to how we spend our time, how we interact with students. The questions involve three critical aspects of our lives: our relationship with music, students and ourselves. Certainly relationships with family are also integral, but for the moment, we will investigate the first three.

The first question surmises that we make conscious decisions concerning our practicing and performing, listening to music and level of activity in the musical community. To have no answer or to have made no decision is, in fact, to have made a decision. While no one can do everything at once--a critical realization--one needs to reassess their relationship with music with a conscious frequency, lest the hurried nature of our lives as teachers obliterate what we so deeply care about. A simple decision to practice 30 minutes a day for some teachers would be a significant gift to themselves. A decision to play for the high school chorus or perform in a piano ensemble with other teachers could be enough to help some reconnect to the world they initially thrived in. Others may decide to play a chamber or solo recital in the coming semester and prepare accordingly.

The second question, "What would we want our students to say about us as teachers and human beings if they could tell us what they thought and how they felt?" is sobering and the answer can determine how we teach and interact with students. Some individuals are experiencing interest in a trend to consciously "create their day," with the intention of paying attention to what is occurring throughout the day and how one reacts to it, as well as structuring a day around important personal values and activities.

Whenever I think in this way about teaching--in a way that focuses on how my students may feel about our teaching relationship--from my perspective, it places a magnifying glass on the situation, moment by moment. I become aware of what I am saying, how I am saying it, how the student is feeling and how I am feeling--as well as how it relates to the music--the art--and the desired performance of it.

And finally, the third question: "If my life were a person, what would it want to tell me about how I treat it?" I know I would need more kindness for myself, more leeway with myself and strive less for perfection. There is no perfection in life, in a lesson or teaching a class. My life would talk about the need for balance between my incredible musical passions and time away from these pursuits to reflect and experience the many other gifts in life. My life would remind me that I could become stale and even boring, although I would never want to admit it, if engaged 100 percent in musical pursuits. My life might say to me: take time to gain depth and perspective through time in nature, in the garden, some balanced time spent with others away from the full musical life I lead, through travel, exercise and balanced rest. It might suggest that I engage in other creative activities such as art, writing or design to stabilize my musical side. It definitely would encourage me to balance my relationships with people within and outside of music. Of course, these are questions for reflection and journaling, questions for life.

Learning From the Past

Here, I want to add one additional perspective: take time to review what has been successful in the past with various students and situations. Recently, I encountered a friend in her late 60s who is fond of daily journaling, as I am. She told me she is now reviewing her past journals, year by year. From those readings, she is taking the salient life events of the time and electronically chronicling the important points on her computer. Then after a life review at that point, she is destroying her hard-copy journals. She makes a conscious act of reviewing and learning from the past and then moves on in full awareness.

Her actions struck me as those of a wise person. I remember, from time to time, the many little successes I have had with individual students--whether they be through successful repertoire for that person at just the right time, attitudinal changes on my part, various subtle teaching techniques that work with different students or revitalized ways to teach a student how to practice. Why do we continue to reinvent the wheel when some good knowledge can come through learning and building on past successful situations? Reviewing past student and teaching situations also can help reconnect us with our past students and colleagues who nourished us as well and continue to do so.

Moving On

One still ponders the question "what can we do?" in conjunction with the question "what is really important?" I came across a quote by Fritz Hull that he gave in an interview with Rod McIver--Fritz Hull co-founded the Whidbey Institute on Whidbey Island off the Seattle, Washington coast. He said: "Beauty is a gift, a grace. A system, a reminder of truthfulness. That grace is always there. That is why I go into the woods. That is why I lie down on the grass. It is a presence of grace. The beauty of the natural world is healing, is informing. I think that our engagement with beauty, our intimacy with beauty, can save us." (1) For those who experienced Hurricane Katrina, it brought brutal devastation and ugliness into their communities. Healing comes in slow ways and often comes through beauty to counteract the devastation.

So many individuals who were afflicted by the hurricane can, in their own ways, connect with the beauty in art, music and nature. Perhaps, in part, that is why we are here to teach. We are blessed to be able to transmit the nature of music's beauty to others through our teaching.

Send Us Your Questions

Do you have a teaching question you would like to have answered? Perhaps you have a practice tip for students you would like to share or a studio idea you are trying differently this year. Questions and other items may be sent to: American Music Teacher, Attn: Polyphony; 441 Vine St., Ste. 505, Cincinnati, OH 45202-2811; fax [phone]; or e-mail to [e-mail].

NOTES

(1) "Co-Founder of The Whidbey Institute: A Surrender to the Call." Fritz Hull, interview by Rod McIver. http://www.herondance.org/studiostore/merchant.mvc?Screen=CTGY&Sto re_Code=art&Category_Code=hull&qt s=pfb98.

Jane Magrath, NCTM, is internationally known as a pianist, author, clinician and teacher. She is professor and director of piano pedagogy at the University of Oklahoma in Norman.