Teaching

I've been teaching cello lessons for awhile now, and at one of my lessons last Saturday, I met another young cellist. She is a friend of the student I teach. After our lesson, we began to talk about teachers. Hayley, the friend, told me that she had recently quit. Why? I asked. Because, I didn't like my teacher. She doesn't like me. Hayley also told me that she had tried hiring a private lesson teacher, but he never showed up for lessons.

Then my student's mom jumped in and told a story about how she took orchestra in school and played violin, but that she was failing English, and so she couldn't play in any of the concerts. Her teacher told her to not bother playing at all in class. This mom told me that her feelings were really hurt by that teacher.

I didn't teach Hayley anything concrete that day, but I did tell her about some additional opportunities in town, and recommended a few books for her to try if she's still interested in practicing, which she is. At the end of the conversation, Hayley told me I was really pretty. I interpreted that to mean "nice." I think kindness is attractive. I wish more people were concerned with building others up instead of tearing them down.

Learning to play an instrument, or taking on any kind of artistic endeavor is a vulnerable thing to do and I feel like especially teachers of art or music ought to know this.

Teachers, please, think about what you say and do. Your actions impact people for FAR longer than you could ever imagine.

And if you think about it, if someone were to ask you who made the biggest difference in your life outside of immediate family, the answer is almost always a teacher.

On Life and Writing

This is probably the longest break I've taken from writing. I've been struggling. A lot. I often feel very alone. And yet, I have friends here, I have a great job, and I do make an effort to spend time ministering and being around people. So it's hard for me to reconcile the good things I've got in my life with the way I feel most of the time.

And it's interesting. I notice that when I'm feeling this way, I stop writing. I stop reflecting. Well, not really. I'm just more caught up in my own mind. When I don't write, my thoughts, I suppose, just get stuck up there.

I think I come across as having it all together. Whatever that means. But I don't. In these times of struggle, I'm reminded that I'm human, that a lot of other people are feeling the same way.

I'm in process of making a list of fun things to do when I start feeling alone. Even the thought of this list makes me smile, even though I haven't put anything on it yet. These tasks will help me create connection, which we all need.

I'm starting to feel like writing again, all things, and I think it's a sign that I'm finally healing a little.