Alice

Thoughts on the importance of teachers.

I once had a student in Jazz Ensemble I’ll call, Alice. Alice was in the “back row,” the trumpet section. Early in her Jazz Ensemble career, a few other students came to me to express their concerns about whether Alice ought to be part of the group. They said she sometimes “acted weird” or “shared too much.” Today, we might call this, oversharing or TMI. The upshot was that she made people feel uncomfortable. She wasn’t being mean or disruptive – certainly not a bully – she was simply not “normal” by some standards.

This was the only time in my career that students came to me to request that another student be rejected from a group. My policy was that if a student wanted to play and had the basic “chops” for it, I would give them a chance. I did not consider “fit” with the organization my decision. I always left that up to each student. And sometimes, a student would decide the Jazz Ensemble was not a good “fit” for them. No harm, no foul, I told students. I never wanted to turn people away, unless they just couldn’t play well enough. Even then, I encouraged them to work on their skills and audition again. Occasionally, a student would take me up on it, the result I had hoped for.

I listened to the complaints – predictably, nothing specific enough to call to Alice’s attention. My response to each of the concerned was the same: I was the director as well as her trumpet teacher. I would keep an eye on Alice. If she did anything to disrupt a rehearsal or concert, I would speak to her, and if necessary, ask her to leave the group. I never spoke to Alice about any of this. She played in the Jazz Ensemble for a couple of years with no problems. The other students learned to work with Alice just as she learned to share a little less of what was on her mind. Students come to college to grow, and perhaps Alice and I were part of that growth.

My responsibility was to provide a setting in which students could learn, not only more about music but also how to get along with one another. I’ve always found diversity is good for a group. I worked with students from other countries, “black, brown, and beige” students, as Ellington proposed, those with big egos and those who were reluctant, young men and young women – and a few I wasn’t sure about, and a self-styled goth biker chick, all who made fine contributions to the ensemble. My job was to nurture their talents, to make sure they each had opportunities to be the best they could be, so together we could be the best band we could be. This was not about “celebrating diversity” or “inclusiveness.” I was merely a teacher who wanted to give everyone a chance to play. Rejecting someone just because they didn’t fit the mold was, and is, antithetical to my nature.

How can we in good conscience cast people aside based on our preconceptions about them? If we do, we risk depriving everyone else of everything they might offer. The drive to conformity is powerful, nevertheless. As I write this, I’m concerned that teachers are under pressure to do things the white, conservative, Christian way. By the way, my concerned students were all white, conservative Christians who wanted Alice to fit their conception of a bandmate. And, by the way, as her trumpet instructor I was able to help her with some of the problems she was having other than learning to play trumpet. Sometimes, all it takes is a listening ear and no recriminations.

I reflect that I too am not “normal.” I reject the notion that unless a person can identify as part of a preferred group, they are somehow evil and cannot expect to be heard. We are left in a terrible place when those who do not “fit” are ostracized or criminalized. The adage, “If you want to understand someone, first walk a mile in their shoes,” comes to mind. The best teachers have enough empathy to put themselves in the other person’s place. If I were Alice, I wouldn’t have wanted to be kicked out of the Jazz Ensemble for being unusual. Imagine jazz without Dizzy Gillespie and his unique personality. Now, Alice wasn’t Dizzy Gillespie, but I find it hard to imagine the Jazz Ensemble without her unique contribution.