In August 1975, I received a phone call from the Chairman of the Music Department at Eastern Illinois University (we were living in Charleston Il. at the time).  He said the Pedagogy/Class Piano Instructor had taken a job in New Jersey.  
University classes started in two weeks and they were desperate (his very word).  Would I take the job?

I hesitated...I had the appropriate credentials, yet no experience with college teaching.  I was 31 years old, wife of the violin professor and mother of two young children.  But ~ they were desperate.  I felt ill equipped and full of doubt. 
To quote John Holt, “There is nothing more valuable than a healthy sense of doubt.”   I accepted the position. 
My life was forever changed with that choice.  I found my passion.  I found my purpose. 

This next week I am to returning to EIU, to Charleston for a celebration honoring Catherine Smith, my first “Boss”, a marvelous teacher and pianist who will be celebrating her 90th birthday!  And I have the unique opportunity to thank all those who supported me through those years, guided me when I was confused and taught me what it really means to be a teacher.

Thank you everyone!

Yesterday’s post brought back a memory.  A piano teacher/student of mine, brought her sister for a lesson, drove off to go teach a lesson at the home of one of her students, and drove back to me for her own lesson one hour later. (And, she was not late.)

 After she played the first movement of a Haydn sonata, I asked her  “Who just played the Haydn?”  It was wonderful watching her process this and then with great certainty she replied  “The driver of the car.”   And I said, “That is who I heard.  Please take your time, some deep breaths, connect with your inner musical soul and play again.”

The Haydn was lovely.  Change your intention, change the music, change your life.

When I decide to take a new student, I always assign a new piece to be learned and played for the next lesson. And I ask the student to write down, precisely, how they learn it.

So at her next lesson, this student (a pianist, a teacher, a choir director) played her piece, and when she finished, she volunteered that she had tried to observe dynamics, articulation and fingering. After a moment's silence, I asked "What was your musical intention in playing this piece?" She looked puzzled for just a moment and then said "Oh my, I wait until I have done everything else."

Unfortunately, this is the usual response. Why do we wait until we have done everything else "correctly" before we think about the music and what we wish to communicate through this piece. It seems to be the way of many students of music.
Why do we not make the musical soul of the piece our first priority?

For me, how we learn, whether it be to play an instrument, become a dancer or write a book, is a reflection of how we do life. How do you learn? Think about it.