Who do you become when you teach? Do you have multiple teaching personas? What is your armour?
There are many parallels between teaching and acting. The character you play may depend on which pupils are in front of you at any one time, or how you are feeling, or the time of day or term, or what you need to teach them that day. It may even change, Mr-Benn-like, during a lesson, if that is required.
Are music teachers more chameleon-like than most? Perhaps more than in most subjects, our own subject skills are constantly on show. We sing, we play instruments, we do air guitar and body percussion, we improvise, we boldly go so that our pupils may feel confident enough to follow. Is a slightly batty persona a requirement for this? Perhaps – it has always been my go-to everyday costume.
I have worked with colleagues who have different things in their dressing-up box. One of my colleagues manages to exude a calm and efficient Blue Peter presenter persona: ‘Here's one I made earlier.’ I marvel at the way her classroom seems less chaotic than mine. Recently we had a maternity cover teacher who was universally adored because he was impossibly cool with an air of mysterious authority. He was also young and male. I can achieve none of these things.
A teaching persona needs to change as you get older. When you start out at the chalkface, you can be the older sibling or cousin. That doesn't cut it when you're older than most of the parents. Although it helps to know how to play the riff from the latest Ed Sheeran song.
I have begun to notice that every school has at least one female teacher in her fifties who fits a particular mould. She is a no-nonsense type who has no time for silly behaviour (from pupils or other teachers) and who is absolutely prepared to speak her mind, whether that's in a staff meeting or at a parents’ evening. She has probably been at the school for a long time, and can remember ex-pupils from the 90s. She might have a quirky fashion sense that may manifest itself in chunky jewellery, funky shoes or purple highlights in her hair. The kids like her but are a little bit scared.
Am I becoming that teacher? I think so. I hope so. Music teaching is very compatible, I feel, with all those characteristics. One of the best things about being older is that you have built up many layers of teacher-armour. Working with trainee teachers is a reminder of what it is like to start out without a well-stocked armoury. It has made me doubly appreciative that my killer glare (cultivated over many years now) is even more effective now that it is delivered over the top of my reading glasses.
Other layers of armour that I have accumulated include a willingness to have a go at singing or playing absolutely anything, an ability to anticipate mistakes and misconceptions, being able to spot a keyboard demo from 50 feet, and an insistence on answering exactly the question that is being asked. (‘Miss, have you got the practice room keys?’ ‘Yes I do, thanks.’)
Teaching music is hard. It isn't like teaching other subjects – that's not to say that teaching other subjects is easy, but the ephemeral nature of music makes it conceptually difficult, and many pupils find the motor skills required for playing instruments very challenging. They know that what they are going to get in a music lesson is different from what they will get in other lessons – which is both a good and bad thing. The difference in routine can bring out behaviour problems.
Is there an elephant in the room regarding behaviour in music lessons? Is there an assumption that if you provide high-quality music lessons, then pupils will be motivated and behave well? I am willing to put myself out on a limb and say that this is not so. Not even in a leafy suburban school.
I give the best lessons I can muster, and in the majority of cases students enjoy and achieve. Nevertheless, there is a significant minority of kids who are prepared to wear the arrogance of their ignorance on their sleeve and throw it in your face.
Music teachers are often in the position of having to fight our corner, to justify what we do (and what we don't do) to senior leaders, parents, pupils, and the wider world. It can feel as though music educators are swimming against the tide. To keep doing the job, we need to don our armour, and become the kind of teachers and musicians who just keep going, no matter what.
