No need to raise the bar

Today is not the day for a steeplechase. (State Library of Queensland)

When I taught piano lessons, I worked with a little girl named Catherine. Honestly, I’ve worked with so many Catherines over the years that I’m not even going to bother to change her name for this story.

Catherine took to the piano easily. She was talented in the most basic and obvious way: on day one, it was as though she already a few months of experience based on her knowledge and execution. Not only could she play whatever I asked her to play, she did it with grace and ease.

I could have challenged Catherine in a significant way. I could have created conditions to push her talent to the limit and allow her achieve astonishing results in a short period of time.

I chose not to. Instead, we moved forward at a steady pace, playing easy pieces to gain experience and gradually adding complexity. Catherine’s steady pace was still faster than most kids her age; I saw no need to push her to go faster. She was only eight years old.

Every week, Catherine showed up eagerly for her lesson. We enjoyed our time together. One day, after a couple of years, Catherine’s mother told me that Catherine would be pursuing some other activities, and that was the end of piano lessons. Catherine came back a few years later to learn guitar, which she also picked up very quickly.

Some might read this story as a failure. Why would Catherine quit something that she loved? But Catherine, unlike so many of us, was free. She did the things that she enjoyed doing. When she stopped doing those things, she did other things that she enjoyed doing.

And I, as a teacher, was free. My goal has never been to produce professional musicians. I even dropped the goal of producing lifelong music lovers. All I sought to do, as a music teacher, was to create the conditions in a music lesson that would make a student want to come back. For most people, that meant a playful, peaceful atmosphere and a sense of accomplishment. It wasn’t my job to raise the bar. There didn’t even have to be a bar. Growth was happening all the time.

Obviously, not everyone agrees with my approach. Some people want their kids pushed, believing that it’s the only way they are going to reach their potential. As a result, many of us are so used to being pushed that we stagnate if we don’t have that external pressure.

But I can only push someone if it’s a collaboration — something that the other person is also participating in and desiring. Otherwise, the result is resistance and resentment. Not only is my relationship with the student damaged, so is the student’s relationship with the material.

Of course, when I began teaching “regular school” at The Little Middle School, I knew that not all students were going to want to learn math, science, literature, and history for the joy of it, which is the natural result of having been pushed already for five or six years. And yet, there was still a way to make it pleasant, or at least humane. It didn’t have to be a competition or some kind of moral test. There didn’t have to be a Big Bad at the end of the level. Again, I didn’t have to raise the bar. I didn’t have to escalate. I didn’t have to up the ante. We could just keep learning and growing together.

If you’re used to being pushed and driven, it is strange to let go of that. You will find yourself looking past what you’re doing to see what could be coming next. You’ll wonder when the real work will start. Where’s the rest of it? But there is no need to escalate. You can keep doing what’s working, today, tomorrow, and the next day. It’s enough. When the moment comes to move up — whatever that means — you’ll know, and you’ll be ready.

In the meantime, you might find a surprising amount of satisfaction in giving your full energy and commitment to today’s tasks. Take a moment to enjoy the feeling of success and mastery that accompanies the work. That, as opposed to raising the bar, is the real engine of growth and transformation.