What does it take?

Years ago, I worked with a trumpet student who thought I “didn’t care” about his progress. His reason was simple: I didn’t “yell” at him like his old band director did. Apparently, he was under the impression that the more someone cares, the more they should act like a drill sergeant. I assigned good quality exercises and pieces, made specific suggestions about how he could improve his playing, and encouraged him to practice more, yet somehow, he assumed he didn’t have to do anything I said unless I forcefully reprimanded him for not doing it. Well, it’s true no one “has to” do anything their teacher, coach, boss, or even their doctor suggests. However, an intellectually honest person would admit that their decision to disregard such guidance comes with consequences. They may fail to learn, improve, keep their job, or get well if they believe anything short of a shouted command is “just a suggestion.” Of course, teachers want their students to improve. Why provide assignments, suggestions, or encouragement if you don’t care if your students gain more proficiency? I’m thankful students like this were rare in my experience, but it seems to me people who require a more authoritarian approach are not unusual in day-to-day life.

Musicians who “make it” know full well they must find intrinsic motivation to practice their craft, and must not rely on being required to practice. Those who improve enough to become professional musicians learn how to apply their teachers’ comments to a wide range of musical situations and figure out how to critique their own playing. All a teacher can do is plant seeds and nurture them as much as possible. The student must take responsibility for providing the soil and water in which those seeds might grow. If a student must be badgered or harangued in order to practice, I submit he or she will not go far in the big world of music. There will always be someone like John Coltrane, who practiced for countless hours without being told to do so. Trane required himself to practice more than any force on Earth ever could.

In the worlds of broadcast and social media there is a great deal of noise. Just before I started writing this post, there was a presidential debate. It doesn’t matter which one. It seems to me these quickly start sounding like shouting matches, with each candidate trying to be heard above the noise of their competitors, and the surrounding culture as well. And I use the term, culture, loosely. Facebook and Twitter are full of insults, snide comments, and personal attacks. The highest officials in the land routinely adopt language intended to disparage or discredit their opposition. In short, they “yell” at anyone who questions them, or might have the temerity to disagree with them. And they claim they do this because, like my student’s old band director, they really “care.”

But it seems to me they don’t necessarily care about being right or offering better ideas. They care about being heard. They know their voices must cut through the noise or all is lost for them. Too few listen to the quiet, introspective candidate. “Silent Cal” Coolidge wouldn’t stand a chance in today’s culture. Neither would a scholarly James Madison or a competent, but soft-spoken CEO. Our culture seems to value those who can cut through the noise more than those who suggest we turn down the volume and perhaps listen to more than a sound bite or an attention-seeking Tweet. The more outrageous the behavior, the more attention it gets. And the more often a “yell” is repeated, the more people tend to believe it. Nuance is lost. Explanations become tiresome. Like my trumpet student, many people believe those who offer thoughtful suggestions and encourage others to think about them somehow don’t really care. The louder the appeal, the more the person is believed to care.

So, what does it take to get our attention? I used to ask this question in the classroom. Does it take a wardrobe malfunction? Same-sex kisses? Offensive lyrics? The F-word? The N-word? Twerking? Scandalous camera angles? Shouldn’t good music speak for itself? Shouldn’t musical creativity matter? Why does it generally take something shocking to get people to pay attention?

The easy answer is that many people don’t really know what is good, or even why something might be considered good. I spent part of class time working on how to think about artistry, creativity, and musical quality. Believe it or not, there can be standards. And there can be standards to political and other discourse as well. We don’t have to listen to everyone who’s yelling. We can choose to listen to the signal rather than the noise, the subtle rather than the bombastic.

When CDs first appeared in the early 1980’s, a lot of people were saying, “Great! Now we can really hear the cannons in the 1812 Overture and the sound of the full orchestra as it was meant to be – right in our living rooms!” I said, “At last. We will be able to hear a quiet passage, a flute, a violin, a harpsichord, a triangle, or a soft human voice without hum, hiss, pops, or clicks!” It seemed to me the signal had won over the noise. The small sounds of music could finally be heard with the clarity they deserved.

In the internet era, this notion could be true of our culture in general. Technologically speaking, we have no excuse for overlooking those who are circumspect. But we all like a good fight. In music, if the composer or arranger isn’t careful, the brass and percussion instruments can dominate rest of the orchestra. Likewise, if we aren’t careful, we can mistake loudness for passion or caring, when often it’s a form of domination. We must never assume those who “yell” at us always have our best interests at heart. After some time, my trumpet student understood that everything I had told him was intended to help him develop as a musician and as a person. I hope he learned that softer voices are worth his attention. It seems to me these thoughts apply to much more than music teaching.