Maria Montessori, the famous childhood theorist, believed that good teachers observe more than they teach. As the first woman in Italy to graduate from medical school, she had a keen understanding of the importance of observation!
Teaching well sometimes means teaching less; often, I am reminded just how effective this approach is. Some of my students’ most successful lessons have occurred on days in which I just felt too tired to “teach.” On these days, I generally observe my students more, interrupt their process less, and give the responsibility of learning to them. This method of teaching works! Yet, many piano teachers feel as though they are not really teaching if they simply sit back and observe. Many of us are fearful that parents will think we are not really doing anything, that other teachers will judge us, or that our students will not really learn anything.
When I first started teaching piano, I was an “over-teacher.” As a fifteen-year-old, I was nervous that my students’ parents would suspect me of being under qualified. I felt the urge to “prove myself” to my students and their parents. This urge resulted in me trying to control every part of the lesson; I held specific and high expectations about my success as a teacher and my students’ improvement. I perceived that it was necessary to align my teaching as best as possible to external standards and to attempt to fit into the mold of a “good piano teacher.” In my mind, failure to fit this mold would mean that I was unfit to teach piano. Unfortunately, while trying to fit myself into perceived expectations, I was neglecting to observe my students in each moment; without me realizing, my expectations were even forcing my students’ needs into a mold!
The urge to prove ourselves as teachers does not simply disappear once we reach a certain age, pass the next exam, or attain a degree or two. This urge is derived from internal fears and insecurity, which never really go away until we address our thought patterns head on. If you are not sure you have what it takes to be a teacher, you are not alone. Many piano teachers fear that if people were to take a closer look, they would see how unfit or unprepared they are to teach. The term “Imposter Syndrome” usually refers to this feeling; the feeling that you are an imposter in your field, and that it is just a matter of time before your inadequacies reveal themselves to others. Imposter Syndrome is an example of when our insecurities and anxieties take over and cloud our view of ourselves, our job, and our students. Even if not all piano teachers experience Imposter Syndrome, many of us experience feelings of insecurity and doubt at some point.
Thoughts that are derived from insecurities could present themselves in a variety of ways: from questioning if a student’s family likes me, to worrying about what another teacher said about my method, to dwelling on the fact that my most recent piano exam grade might have been lower than I hoped, to predicting that my student will want to change teachers. The list could go on forever, including so many thoughts and worries that we piano teachers have all probably had at some point in our lives. Did you notice how each of these thoughts features the words “me” or “my”? Our fears and anxieties are regularly about us; not about our students. Now, it’s not as though having insecure thoughts means I am a narcissist or means that I am self-absorbed. But, these thoughts detract from the purpose of a piano teacher’s work, which is to provide all that we can for our students in each moment. And how can we do that if our vision is clouded by our insecurities?
When we are overcome by our fears and insecurities, we start to attempt to read the minds of others, predict the future, and catastrophize potential future outcomes; these thoughts can affect our confidence, our relational abilities, and our attentiveness to our students. If we let fearful and insecure thoughts drive our decisions, we actually change our teaching for the worse. We may “over teach,” like I did, where we don’t leave any room for our students to take responsibility, take risks, or think through ideas on their own. We may become dictatorial, attempting to control each component of the lesson. We may set expectations for our students that are unreasonable and discouraging. We might be too scared to let our students explore; too scared that we won’t get through all of their repertoire in one week; too scared that a parent will be upset about an exam mark. We may convince ourselves of things that aren’t true; for example, we may be sure of the limits of a student’s ability, when we actually do not ever know. Imposter Syndrome hurts our students, because we end up changing our teaching to address our perceived inadequacies, not to address our students’ needs. If we are worried about being a good teacher, might we miss some crucial signs about what is and is not going well for each of our students?
Having a negative or unsure thought is not necessarily bad. Having insecure thoughts reveals how we desire to continuously improve our teaching. Furthermore, sometimes our fears can reflect the underlying truth that we perceive in a situation. These thoughts and fears might be necessary; but it’s what we do with them that will dictate our students’ success. For example, we might fear that a parent will think a specific activity is a waste of time during a lesson. We have three options: 1) we don’t do the activity, 2) we do the activity but adjust it to fit parents’ expectations, or 3) we prepare for any potential concerns and complaints, and we proceed with our activity how we envision it. With option 3, our fear and insecurity helped us to know that we should prepare to communicate the reasoning behind our choices as a teacher. Anxiety in teaching should encourage us to clarify our methods and drive forward with our ideas of what would be best for our students—not best for us, and not best for the parents.
But, how do we know what is best for our students? We have to channel our inner Montessori and stop “teaching.” Sit back and observe! Ask your student to practice something, and don’t interrupt him. Set a timer for yourself and hold yourself to it! Sometimes I tell my students that they have to try a piece on their own for two minutes, and I am “not allowed” to say anything until the timer goes off. I do this multiple times in a lesson with my students as young as four years old. These little ones think it’s funny that I am “not allowed” to say anything! In your silence, watch and listen. Do you sense they are tired that day? Do you sense they need water? Should you step away from the piano and do a different activity? If something is incorrect, don’t correct them right away. See if they get it. Look at their eyes. Are they in control of their eye movement? Keep watching, keep listening, and don’t interrupt until the timer goes!
When you are “allowed” to speak again, ask questions—LOTS of questions! Ask your students to talk out loud about what they are doing. Ask your students to explain it to your studio puppet. Listen to what they say. Ask them to point at where they are looking. If there was something incorrect in their work, such as a wrong note, ask them a question about it; draw their attention to that spot again. Ask them what they think they need to do. Ask them how much time they think they need to do it, and let them set the timer themselves! Ask them how they would practice this if you weren’t there. When we make an active choice to allow observation to be our primary teaching method, we may be surprised about how quickly students begin to take responsibility for their learning. We also might be surprised about their abilities to surge forward and retain what they have learned.
Might Montessori’s idea of observational teaching also help take the pressure off, the pressure to be the perfect teacher as we imagine others might see it? If we focus our attention fully on observing our students and their needs, would this help us plan for future lessons with more certainty?
Allowing our students of any age to provide ideas for our teaching will always give us more confidence than a manual, a curriculum, or a parent’s ideas. This work on our confidence as teachers comes over time and takes effort, but it will will break down our insecurities, provide us with assurance in our decisions, and help us strive to communicate our methods and reasoning with certainty to those who are doubtful. Most importantly, our observation and growing confidence will help us provide the proper lesson activities and environments for each of our students’ needs.
Written by Bronwyn Schuman, Founder of Music Theory Playground™ (Originally written for APTA in 2021)