Watching students become who they want to be

Weeds or wildflowers? It’s not for me to say. (Image by Couleur)

Over the years, students have come to me for advice on how they might pursue a career in music.

My answer is brutal, honest, and practical. It’s not based on luck or talent. It’s focused on hard work, focus, bravely putting yourself out there, and building a network and a following.

I bear no judgment toward those who choose a different path. It’s wise to give up on a dream if you realize that you’re not willing to put in the work or make the sacrifice that allows you let go of everything else and focus only on the actions that make your desired outcome possible.

Earlier in my career, it was harder for me to accept that what people said they wanted and what they actually wanted — or were willing to do — were different things. I had to learn to meet a student halfway — and only halfway.

I can believe in someone more than they believe in themselves. It’s my job. But I’ve learned that I can’t want something for someone more than they want it for themselves.

I have a gift for being able to hold a space for someone — for the possibility of who they could become. To see them as they wish to be seen. And I can lay out a plan to get there, and support that plan every step of the way. But I can’t push a person farther than they’re willing to be pushed, and I can’t make miracles in the face of resistance. I can help add the fuel and get them on the track, but they have to stoke the coals and generate enough steam to move the locomotive forward.

Now that I have seen many, many students grow from adolescence to adulthood, I am fascinated by my students’ choices. There’s Aimee, who is a gifted ceramicist and textile artist. Weston is making music and mentoring musicians. Larisa started her own opera company. Devon got into film. Tammy became a counselor and a mother. Beaux is a poet. Rose is teaching elementary school music. Faye is constantly challenging expectations. Nic is a gifted visual storyteller. Sally is venturing into the business side of music. And Forrest, John, and Will are still playing together a decade later.

There are so many ways to make a career and a life. I’ve realized that, once the foundation is laid, my job is not to lead, but to follow. To offer support and advice when asked — and to accept that my idea of how things should be may not have any relevance to the asker. They will do what they do, and that’s the fun of it.

I’ve done this work long enough to know that virtually anyone can succeed at music or math or business or anything else if they do the work and stick with it. I also know that a person’s unwillingness to do so is their choice and part of their story. It’s not for me to say what they should know and who they should be. It doesn’t have to carry a stigma or shame. Whatever they’re not doing might be, somewhere, balanced by something they are doing that they are deeply invested in. If they trust me and I’m lucky, I might get to hear about it.

So yeah, I can’t want it for them more than they want it for themselves. And yes, I’ll meet them only halfway. But that’s not to imply that I’ve seen it all before and can’t be bothered. It’s not to suggest that someone is lazy, obstinate, or a dilettante. No — it means I’m leaving space for them to grow and change. I’m not pushing or pulling them to commit to a particular path. They are the ones who need to figure out their own lives, and who am I to take that magical experience away from someone?

The people I mentor can’t let me down. They get to become who they want to be. I hold no expectations and it’s not for me to decide what’s right. Years from now, maybe I’ll see how it all fits together. Even if I don’t, that’s okay. I have my own path to figure out, too.