Here’s a flip on that old saying, “Those who can do, those who can’t teach.”
“Those who can — CAN’T teach.”
I discovered this little anti-cliche today, and I’m wondering about it. It made me think of a guy I once had as a teacher in a bike repair class — one of those public classroom sorts of programs they have in major cities. He obviously knew everything there was to know about repairing a bike — he probably could have built a 20-speed racer out of the junk at the local dump. But he couldn’t have taught a frog to hop. I went in hoping to learn how to fix a flat tire and a broken chain (two of the most common bicycle roadside repairs); he started by taking all the ball bearings out of the wheels and putting them back in, then aligning the spokes.
When I was a budding music student, the curriculum for both the Bachelor of Music and Bachelor of Arts in Music degrees included not a single education class. Only the music ed majors took pedagogy. I’m sure this is true in the other arts.
Strange, isn’t it, when you think that just about all successful musicians do SOME form of teaching. They may not be school band conductors, and they may not spend their days explaining to a six year old which finger is finger number 3, but many artists – performing artists, writers, photographers, and others – find themselves teaching, either in high-level master classes, in classrooms (perhaps as guest lecturers, perhaps as permanent teachers ), or in private studios.
Not everyone is a natural born teacher. In addition to enthusiasm and a desire to pass on your craft, you need a ton of patience. It’s not a good job for a control freak — too much depends on the student. And you need some understanding of pedagogy and the learning process, because you need to know the most effective ways to transmit your knowledge to a student, even if the student doesn’t think or learn like you do. Sometimes the answers are not intuitive, especially to the beginning teacher.
Teaching is a wonderful complement to performing or practicing your craft. It encourages interaction between you and the outside world (something most artists lack if they spend all day with their computer, instrument, rehearsal room, or easel). It increases your network of arts-minded people. It gets you out of the house. It can provide a steady paycheck. It keeps you up to date.
But you’re not doing anyone a service (least of all yourself) if you jump into it without any preparation or understanding. You can end up frustrated beyond belief — and a bad teacher can kill the joy right out of a student.
I’ll share one anecdote: Back in the dark ages, I went on a date with a guy who was an expert windsurfer. He was going to teach me to windsurf, something I had tried unsuccessfully before. He got me out on the water, and I pulled myself up on the board, precariously balanced. Now I was supposed to turn. He told me to put all my weight on my left foot, which I did. Nothing happened. Using the time-honored pedagogical principle that if your instructions don’t work, repeating them will do the trick, he screamed louder. This went on for a while, me insisting my weight WAS on my left foot, him telling me to put my weight on my left foot, until I finally lifted my entire right leg and waved it in the air to demonstrate that my weight WAS on my left foot. And still, I didn’t turn.
Clearly, there was some other instruction that was missing. I never found out what it was. This guy could make zig zags up and down the river, but he had no idea how to break down the motions into steps or how to communicate how to put them together. He could do — but he couldn’t teach.
My partner, David Hodge (www.DavidHodge.com), who is a guitar teacher, performer, and writer, recommends that people going into the arts take business courses. I second that notion, but I’d also add: Take some education classes, too. They’re not for falling back on — they’re for growing into. If you become world-class at your art, people are going to want to know how you do what you do — and you’re going to want to know how to tell them.
Good post. Some of the greatest guitarists who ever lived were self-taught, for most people having a professional guitar teacher will short-cut the learning experience dramatically. There’s nothing that can replace having someone show us exactly what to do when we’re learning something new.
Karen, your post reminds me of an episode with a favorite student, a retired math professor who has studied piano for about a decade with various teachers. He had requested help in learning to play hymns, and as we worked together, I talked him through the thought process of seeing the harmonic structure as I play. “I didn’t know how to think about it,” he said. “Now I see how to approach it. You are able to explain to me what is going on in your head when you play the piano. I have had more than one teacher with a great reputation as a performer who wasn’t able to explain things to me. They may be great performers, but YOU are a great TEACHER.” I treasure this compliment in part because he himself is a good teacher. It has been a delight to work with him this year–though I’ve never had a student come in with such detailed practice records!
And he is right–I am a teacher, not a great performer.
While I accompany some and otherwise collaborate with other musicians, I am at heart a teacher–that is what I love to do, and what I do best.