A conversation

Scene: Driving back home with Kevin after a perfect evening dining out - having a picnic dinner at one of our favorite new parks, Coyote Point. On the way home, we pass the huge local high school.

Me: Yeah, that definitely looks like a new theater

Kevin: Oh yeah – that's the fly space over there.

Me: Looks like it'll be really nice...(sigh...)

Kevin: Why do you always sound depressed when you see a nice theater like that? You say that like it's the saddest thing in the world to you.

Me: Well, I am a little sad. I miss working in theaters like that, doing shows, you know. Part of it is sadness that I'm not in one now, doing stuff with music. Part of it is envy that others are there. I am kinda sad that I'm not enjoying a beautiful new space like that, but I don't know that it's where I'm supposed to be, either.

What I continued to think: Yes. I am sad. I am sad that I have these degrees and this talent and this love for music and I'm working a ridiculous job in retail. At the mall. And then I see a gorgeous new theater at a school and I wonder what shows they'll do. I wonder what music will be made. Kevin and I met during my first musical when I moved to Baltimore – I'll always have a soft spot in that regard. And I envy those who have ridden out the storm in music ed despite budget cuts, etc, and I wonder if I actually have the tenacity to fight for it like I know they have to fight for it. And I don't know. And then I doubt myself on a multitude of levels: my drive, my passion, my ability to teach...

Later that night:

Me: Did I tell you I got a referral from a school in a suburb of Oakland?

Kevin: No, when?

Me: Yeah, like on Thurs or Fri. I looked at some info on it – it's like 45mins each way in good traffic. And it's choir, theory, and history, which is great, but they also want band.

Kevin: Do all the things!
Me: Yes, do all the things when I'm not qualified to do all the things and don't want to pretend like I can adequately teach band. Not to mention the potential late nights, weekends, and other craziness. I don't know. I just don't know if I want to pursue it, especially with that commute. I'll never be home...

I start to wonder if I want to put myself through it all. Do I want to continue the arduous process of searching for jobs that are scarce at best, put myself in the pool of other candidates and try to sell myself and my skills to the latest search group? And, if I luck out and get hired, what will it be like getting to know another new school, another new student body, another set of standards and traditions? It almost feels like a hyper-intense dating process – hey, do you guys on the search committee like me? Do your friends and colleagues like me? How about all of this mass of crazy teenagers – do they like me and will they listen to me and respect me as a teacher? What are your likes and dislikes? Oh, you don't really seem to like what I like, but that's ok, I'll still try to relate to you and build the foundation for a relationship of sorts.

Been there, done that. I mean, any job application process is like that to some degree, but when it's something you really care about, it starts to sting when it doesn't look like it's going to work out. And now that's happened a few times, be it for a teaching position or another real, non-mall job. I've always been a bit of a weenie – maybe I'm just looking out for my own somewhat thin skin by not putting myself out there again.

Then there's this: Maybe I'm not meant to be a teacher. I touched on this a little in another post, but, to summarize, I came to music education because I love music, I love singing, and I love being around others who share that same passion.  

But, when I reflect back on how I was in the classroom, I'm not always entirely sure that I was the best teacher. Passionate, yes. Committed, yet. Put on good productions, yes. But did I really possess the core aspects of honest to goodness teaching? I'm not sure. I wasn't great about lesson planning, my classes should probably have been more structured and disciplined, and maybe I should have continued to push myself more in terms of building foundations. I sometimes think that the successes I had were because I had enough passion and energy to inspire my students to put together great performances. And I got along with them well. I attained the end product, but did I achieve it in the best, most educationally savvy way? Eh, probably not.

Don't get me wrong – I enjoyed teaching. I really did. And I miss it.   No amount of current debating or wrangling over my present employment dilemma, or wondering if I ever really was a super teacher or not will ever change that. I loved what I did more often than not. Of course there were frustrating days, early mornings and late nights with rehearsals. But I loved the shows, I loved the concerts, and I wrote some really excellent arrangements for my ensembles. And I know that, despite any good or not so good teaching practices I may have employed, I made a difference in the lives of my students. Maybe not all of them and not all to the same extent, but I know I did. And I will be forever proud of that.  So, where do I go from here?  It's still a little unclear, but I have some ideas....