Inherent Rewards
Recently, a parent of one of my young students apologized for her son’s moods, explaining he’s going through a growth spurt, and has some “attitudes” that can be hard to deal with. I knew what she was talking about: he has been distracted, not as regular with practice, not as able to focus in lessons. This is one of the central challenges to my job. Over 20 years of teaching, I’ve seen hundreds of students go through all of the phases. Earlier in my career, I would get anxious when a student was distracted, thinking I was failing as a teacher. Now, I try and find the fun no matter what. If the student is unable to focus for the first 10 minutes of the lesson, but we’re still having a good time, they’re much more likely to eventually come back with whatever focus they’re capable of on that day. So, sometimes we chat, we joke, we bang on the keyboard, I listen to a 4 minute story about a video game. This is because I now believe that learning is all about inherent rewards. If it feels like a slog, you won’t want to do it. If it feels like you have to turn off parts of you that are naturally there, you will resent it. And as soon as you have the opportunity to quit, you will. But if it’s fun, if you feel connected to others while you’re doing it, and that you can bring your true self to it, no matter what that might look like on that particular day, well that’s when you start to trust it. That’s when music (or anything) starts to become a friend you turn to. Someone you want to spend time with. Something you love. I chose Stevie Wonder as the image for this post, because he so clearly and deeply fell in love with music. Every time he sits down to play it feeds him joyful, soulful, grade-A energy. And that’s what I want us all to aspire to.
I also want to reiterate my belief that private lessons and private study are not the most natural format for learning and playing music. I understand why we do it, and I’m not trying to talk myself out of the job lol. But if there were more communal structures for learning and playing music all around us, like there used to be—not just in schools, but also amongst adults—so many of these challenges would be avoided. The inherent rewards would be obvious, and we wouldn’t have to shame kids, or ourselves, into being in a state we aren’t actually in. But for now, I just try to create an atmosphere of joy and ease in my studio as much as possible. Very often, inherent rewards are not built into education. But I believe they should be!
Thank you for reading 💐
Performing and the Nervous Syste
I recently took a 6-week course called the Nervous System and the Arts. I’ve been really excited to share about it, because it’s changed my life! And now I am a certified Trauma-Informed Artist and Educator.
The course is taught by Ruby Rose Fox, and is based on her decades of experience as a performer, spiritual practitioner, and student of polyvagal theory (the nervous system, aka fight/flight/freeze). Her theory is that performers are the nervous system leaders of the room. The audience is looking to us to regulate their nervous systems, and it should not be the other way around. An easy analogy is the relationship between parent and child. The parent needs to be the nervous system leader in this dynamic, providing a stable base for the child to regulate and get their needs met. When the parent looks to the child for validation, things get messy. This was transformational for me. For most of my life I’ve been operating under the assumption that if only my songs were good enough, if only my voice was beautiful enough, the audience would finally see me and give me the validation I so deeply desired. After this course, I see it much differently.
The first step was learning about my nervous system, and tracking where it was throughout the day. If I felt a little anxious, could I be honest and kind with myself about that? If I felt shut down, could I admit that to myself with a kind and simple voice? She’s very clear that we first need to unshame our nervous systems. And after that, we can take steps to move up the “polyvagal latter” into a safe and social state. This really spoke to me as a teacher. Every day I see kids squirming on the piano bench, or feeling shut down, not wanting to play. And adults with all the stress of daily life, or maybe their sheer terror of singing in front of someone else. It’s extremely normal!
Over the years I’ve transformed my approach from the one we are often taught and teach—that that’s not okay, you need to be different, now—to one rooted in listening and meeting them where they’re at energetically, wherever that might be. This has helped me develop rock solid relationships with my students, because they sense that I’m not shaming them for whatever state they might be in on any given day. And I believe it even helps students stick with music longer! So how can I do that for myself? This is beginning to unlock a whole new sense of safety and ease in my life. Because after all, our own voice is the one we hear the most every day.
The last piece is the state she adds to the Polyvagal latter, called Superplay. It’s the practice of diving into the character and mood of each song on stage, just like an actor does. Or like a child! Or you when you tell a fun story to someone you love. This changes the project from a dopamine driven activity (seeking, acheiving, getting it “right”) to a serotonin driven one (connection, play, presence). It feels amazing, because it’s much more like hanging out with friends and playing around, and much less like being locked inside of an anxious body, desperate for approval. It helps me bring the song alive. The story, and the feeling, become tangible in the room. The question is no longer, “will they like it?” but, “who’s coming with me?” It’s so fun! And it has brought a renewed sense of fulfilment to my life, as my music is getting better and better because of it.
Ruby just released a book called Superplay, which I highly recommend. And if you’d like to learn more about it from me, please ask! I’m actively trying to work with it more.
Thank you for reading 💐
Recital Reflections
(From 12/17/24) We just wrapped up another Winter Recital, and the event itself went very well. Everyone was prepared, relaxed, and seemed to enjoy both performing and watching. That’s a big win. I made an audio/video recording of this recital, which took a lot of effort, but I think it was worth it. And based on what I learned, I think the next one will be even better. Here’s a link to the video.
Unfortunately, I did make a few administrative errors. One, was that I left out a couple of students' names on the program. Both families were very gracious and understanding about it, which I appreciate very much. However, I really don’t want to put anyone through that again, and I’ve decided that I will make sure the program is finished several days before the recital, so I can send it out to everyone and we can all make sure everything looks good.
The other error I made was much more significant. I neglected to give the address to one of my newer students (whom I also never remembered to add to the email thread), and they thought it was at a different church. And because I was filming the recital with my phone, I didn’t get their text and calls until after the recital was over. This was a massive bummer, and I felt truly terrible. I sent them a video apology, but I can only imagine the disappointment of getting all ready for your recital and then not even knowing where to go, and missing it entirely. I lost a lot of sleep last weekend because of this.
First, of course I had to express my remorse. But after I did that, I still had a lot of guilt to work through. It brought up deep feelings of disappointment in myself, and even made me question whether or not I’m up to the task of doing a project this large. I talked to my parents, who (bless them) had driven from Santa Barbara to be there, and they shared with me the value they thought the recitals, and my work with my students each week, offers to so many people. They helped me remember that what I do is special, and worth fighting for. So I kept returning to myself, and trying to forgive myself 1,000 times for my mistake. Sunday night, as I lay awake in bed, I did this metta (lovingkindness) meditation, which helped a lot. And I started to remind myself that I want my life to be full of happiness, good health, and ease. And as much as I want that for my community, I am doing the best I can, and I will make mistakes. Mistakes are excellent opportunities for self-reflection and growth, but as I do that work, I also have to focus on my own self-care.
So I woke up Monday, and finally felt ready to make some changes to the administrative side of my teaching business. Firstly, at all future recitals, I will make sure someone is looking at my phone notifications before the recital starts, in case anyone needs anything. It takes me so much effort and attention to set up the recital, that it shouldn’t be me, but if anyone reading this feels up to this task, please let me know. Thank you in advance! Second, I will be using MailChimp instead of Gmail for group emails, as it’s easier to maintain lists and stay organized. I’m also going to start a weekly (or bi-monthly) newsletter including things I’ve been learning or exploring throughout the week. I’m really excited for this! Of course, there’s no expectation that you read them, but if you find the time, I would love interactions and feedback. I’m hoping this will help me stay better connected to everyone, and avoid similar mistakes in the future.
Finally, I’m going to start going by Nico professionally. I’ve been introducing myself as Nico socially for some time now, but it’s just taken longer for my professional life to follow. My new email address will be nico.rattray@gmail.com, but my old email address will still work. I will gladly still respond to Nick, so please don’t stress about that. I just feel a little happier with the name Nico, like it better reflects the person I am inside. (I am still using he/him pronouns.) Thank you for your support and understanding!
