The Real Thing

This last week I taught at the MacPhail Suzuki Institute. It was a hybrid format, part live and part Zoom. The kids were amazing as always, and it was all very well-orchestrated. Still, I confess to feeling slightly empty on the drive home Friday, while not dropping Fay at the airport. Also, I missed packing a huge lunch for myself, Calvin and Mary and the chaos of getting everyone packed up and practiced and downtown. I missed having my own piano kids there to eat lunch on the giant steps and have picnics outside. I missed chatting with colleagues in the hallways. I missed walking to Izzie’s ice cream Thursday after class. Our faculty dinner was delicious and lovely, but there were empty seats at the table since Fay and David were zooming.

I feel like until we are completely past covid, and all the teachers and families are back in full glory, things just aren‘t really real. We make the best of it. We keep trying to make the best of it, but it’s not the real thing.

Even aside from summer institutes, which again, are doing the best they can. . . there is something missing in our new Zoom culture.

It’s not the real thing.

I feel like we are asking our kids to do all the work, put all the time in, and expecting them to just be satisfied with their own personal growth. To be satisfied to play their Zoom recital and click the red “leave meeting” button, change clothes and go back to whatever they were doing before the recital. Well, here is the bottom line, it’s not really that satisfying. In fact, it’s a recipe for burnout. I know the kids are feeling it because I’m feeling it. It’s not the real thing.

I’m not going to Zoom anymore recitals this fall. If families want to make a video and post it and send to relatives afar, that’s fine. I’m putting all my eggs in the live music basket. We are gonna play a real piano in a real room with a real audience. Real applause. Then we are going to have real treats and real conversation. And give real hugs. I’m gonna sit in a chair with no screen between me and performer and listen. Just listen. No beeps, and no someone’s beloved grandma making commentary unmuted. I’m just going to watch and listen.

I’ve got six studio graduations in the next ten days. I’m looking forward to each one. These piano kids have worked hard. They did the real work, let’s give them the real celebration. Let’s get back to the real thing.