Over the last two weeks of January I’ve had to do a LOT of admin. I’ve written countless music lessons for generalist teachers to deliver. I’ve drafted up ideas for workshops. I’ve worked out all sorts of timetables, and written lessons for me to teach when I start back. I’ve drafted up programs for concerts, and dealt with admin for ticketing and web-listings.
A few days ago, long-suffering-husband came home from work and I was edgy. I’d got a lot of stuff done at the computer, but I didn’t feel great about it. The to-do list was getting shorter. The piles were getting smaller. But I wasn’t so happy. Then I realised – I’d not sat at the cello enough. I’d not had long days of practising. (BTW, l-s-h knew exactly what was wrong. And he also handed me a very good g and t too… He’s a keeper.)
The next day I did. I sat at the cello and did loads of practise. And it fixed my mood. I felt, well, ME again.
Here’s the funny thing. I get told by teachers (or parents, or people in the education sector) all the time that I should be a full-time teacher. (This is no exaggeration. It happens at least once a week.) I’m really good at what I do. And the world is crying out for really good music teachers. And I love teaching. I love the days I spend in schools, dealing with whatever the day throws at me. I love the people I work with (okay. Well, mostly…). I love the kids I see. But I don’t want to do it full time. I never have done.
I don’t think I’d make a good full-time cellist either. I’d get a bit obsessed. And possibly lose my sense of wonder. And silliness. Because that’s what the kids I see remind me of each week.
This career I have suits me really well. It confounds people a bit. You see, good performers mostly aren’t good teachers, especially not in the classroom. And good teachers aren’t mostly polished performers, because they don’t have enough time to practise. Somehow I can do both. And by doing both, I feel myself.