After an absolutely exhilarating and amazing weekend, I've realized that I've had a real issue with personal identity. Ever since I first took a genuine interest in a music career, I have told myself that I really wanted to be a performer for a living. When I started playing horn, I was sure I wanted to be among the best horn players in the world, being in one of the world's top orchestras. Because of that, I went to CWU (and subsequentally UW-Milwaukee for my graduate studies) as a performance major with that goal. But what I didn't realize at the time was how much hard work it took (despite what my teachers said) to make it as a full-time performer. And I had gotten married and had children by the time I was in graduate school, so it was really impossible to spend the time working towards that dream. I've told this story to many people already.
But what I haven't told many people is that because of this, for a long time I have felt like a failure. I felt like I failed myself as a musician to not reach my goal of being a full-time player...an elite player. It's lingered in my mind for years. I'd get so jealous when I see other people my age (or younger) winning auditions in top orchestras and being successful. I wanted to do that so bad...at least, I thought I wanted it.
Now, since I essentially "failed" as a performer, and because my wife wanted to go back to work after not doing it for 3 years, we moved back to my hometown of Oak Harbor and she got a job as an elementary music teacher, where she still is today. We decided that the best use of me was to be a stay-at-home parent during the day so that we didn't have to have our kids in daycare, and then teach lessons at night to increase our income and allow me to actually work in the field of music. Pretty sweet solution, no? I had no idea how sweet it was when I first started...
But there was still this lingering of failure...I even called one of my teachers one day saying I felt like I failed, to which he basically said, "no, you didn't".
I realized this weekend what that meant. I thought hard about this: If I had become a full-time player in a major orchestra or a studio recording artist, that's pretty much all I'd be doing. I would just be playing horn. I wouldn't be playing trumpet, trombone or tuba. I wouldn't be conducting regularly. I wouldn't have much time to arrange music or compose, or do recording projects. I may do a little teaching, but not nearly as much as I do now. There would be no presence of me on Whidbey Island for the students here. There would be no Harbor Brass, no Penn Cove Brass. No Whidbey Island Brass Camp...There would just be me...and my horn.
And I wouldn't have made a difference in any of the lives that I currently make a difference in now.
Plus, I really like doing all those other things in music. I like playing other brass instruments, and I like composing and arranging for my groups, and conducting for them...and most of all, I like teaching. I love teaching. I have never felt greater fulfillment than to not only see my students succeed, but also be a part of their lives.
So I concluded that being a professional performer would've never satisfied me...it was never my identity. Sure, I love playing in an orchestra and playing orchestral music, but it's not the only thing I love. What I love about music is it's flexibility, where you can do so many different things within the realm of music (perform, teach, compose, conduct). I love that most of all, and have been doing it much more that playing full-time...see what I mean?
So my identity isn't as a performer. After this weekend, I strongly think my identity is to be a band teacher.
That's right, a band teacher. A band teacher.
So this weekend, I attended the Washington Music Educators Association conference held in Yakima, WA. It's the first time I have actually registered for this event, but I felt it would be good for me as a teacher to do. Plus, I would get to see a lot of my old colleagues from CWU and the Yakima & Tri Cities areas. I did see most of them, although there were a couple I hoped to see that I never ran into, including the CWU horn teacher, Jeff Snedeker (I'm going to likely see him in about 3 weeks at Allison Wenzel's horn recital, anyways). I was really impressed by how well some of my former classmates were doing in their band director roles. They were leading such great music programs and had so many innovative and fun ideas. The sessions I attended were all amazing, everything from adding more fundamentals to rehearsals, to building (or rebuilding) a band program in a small school, to do chamber music in a band setting. I had no idea so many band teachers were spending rehearsal time having kids play in chamber ensembles! And teachers talked about the strong bonds they have with their students, and some of the accomplishments the students have made. Some band teachers even make arrangements or rewrite things to fit their band. Needless to say, I felt truly inspired just as a lesson teacher after hearing from all these band teachers.
I got to thinking about it further after the final session was over, and after I had a discussion with Allison...these band teachers are doing a lot of the same things I'm doing, but they see their kids 5 days a week during regular work hours and in a larger quantity. They get to rehearse concert band music, which I once had a passion for. Some of them even perform on the side and teach lessons.
As you can tell, all signs seem to point to me being a band teacher. I could essentially do all the things I do now...but more often. I'd have more kids to work with. The highlight of my week in Monday nights when I have my brass ensembles, but if I was in band, I could rehearse kids every day.
And I can't forget: I really care for my students. I mean, I really care for them. I love them...so much so that it almost brings tears to my eyes writing this. When I was sitting next to Allison in a session and the clinician said to turn to your neighbor and tell them why you still do music after all these years, I found myself saying to her, "I still do music today because of people like you." One of my many beloved students. When I said that to her, I realized my purpose. My...identity. I knew then that what I've been doing these last 7 years has been more important to everyone involved that I had thought. I'm making an impact on them, and they're making an impact on me.
...so why not do it in a band classroom?
And that's not all. After the conference was over, the All-State bands had their performance. I had 10 students in the All-State program, so I attended the concert...and it was SO COOL. It's not just because it was an entertaining concert, but students that I get to work with were a part of this amazing thing. And they all had such a great time. I could send this many kids at least every year if I was a band teacher.
Of course, the thoughts come to my mind such as, "why did it take me so long to realize I wanted to teach band? I should've though this when I was actually in college!" Well, I've always been a slow learner of this kind of thing. And hey, I had some pretty great musical experiences during that time, such as playing with the Milwaukee Symphony, writing my own concerto and premiering it, and focusing on raising a family. Plus, my experience as a lesson teacher and director of brass ensembles has provided some pretty valuable experience. So, it's not all to waste.
So...what now? Well, I think I'm going to take steps to pursue getting certified to teach. I'd probably need to actually get an education degree, but I really don't know where exactly to start. I'm sure I'll figure it out, soon. I'll probably have to wait a couple years until my youngest is in school full-time.
Don't worry, when that time comes, I'll still bee composing and arrange...man, imagine it...I could write pieces for band or a chamber piece, and have my students play it whenever I wanted...
I have to say that the students I have had in the last 7 years have convinced me that I want to teach more than perform. These guys are amazing.
Take care and value music.