Teacher in the Ether

Before the pandemic I could not have imagined appearing, as if by magic, in my students’ houses at a set time each week and continuing to deliver the piano lessons I had previously been teaching in their schools. It’s pretty miraculous when you think about it. And it was so very welcome. Parents proved overwhelmingly grateful for that small slice of normality amid the free fall in which their children found themselves, to a lesser or greater extent, during lockdown. Music lessons were familiar, and students and teachers alike were able to pick up where we left off. In the strange new world where so many activities had had to be cancelled, we were sticking two fingers up at Covid 19 and carrying on - if not exactly as before. On a practical level I could continue earning at least something towards keeping the wolf from the door, though with my husband working longer hours than ever our seven-year-old’s home schooling was pretty much left to our teenagers.

Communities and forums sprung up online, offering support and advice as we instrumental teachers negotiated our way, some more deftly than others, round the technicalities and limitations of Zoom. Experts quickly emerged to help the rest of us, and I learned about ethernet cables and various hidden settings which could improve my students’ sound. It was then down to me to advise parents, students and even a few colleagues which, for a former technophobe, was both scary and gratifying. A few lessons were lost in the early days due to poor connection, but once I had things running smoothly at my end this became a rarity. In the space of less than a term, teaching via Zoom became normality.

I am fortunate enough to teach in a school that offered its visiting music teachers a great deal of support from the outset: a training session; access to a laptop or iPad if we didn’t have one; terms and conditions drawn up ready to send to the parents of all our students; and a briefing on some of the things we could expect. “Expect to be more tired”, was one valuable heads-up. Teaching online is certainly more tiring, as is the concentration required to talk more slowly and deliberately (especially for a soft-spoken babbler like me) and take account of the time lag. Some students found this very difficult, so ground rules had to be quickly established: “Please wait until I’ve finished my explanation before you reply or play”; or “Let me finish my demo first, then it’s your turn”.

I know that some teachers didn’t particularly relish parents being present throughout every lesson: I’ll hold my hands up and admit to initially being one of them. I’ve always welcomed parents’ days in my schools and enjoyed having Mum or Dad along to experience their son or daughter’s piano lesson, but the idea of having my teaching observed and potentially judged at every lesson was something I found daunting, especially as I was going to be teaching at one remove. To my surprise, however, parental involvement was one of the most enjoyable aspects of online teaching. Most of the time. These were my findings on that score:

• It was lovely - really lovely - to be able to put faces to the names of the people whose children I worked with and who valued and appreciated that work; who greeted me with beaming smiles and waves during those first online meetings.

• Not surprisingly, my secondary school students generally preferred Mum or Dad just to give a wave at the start of the lesson than to remain throughout, but some of them were happy for them to stay. In these cases they were very ‘hands off’ and if I hadn’t been told they were there, I wouldn’t have known. Which brings me on to …

• Parents of primary age students, quite rightly, remained in the lesson with varying degrees of involvement. Some said little or nothing, quite a few just gave a nudge to get their child back on task or (with little ones) to help them find their place, and nearly all of those I could see appeared animated and to be enjoying the experience.

• There were a few headaches. One parent became so vocal and overly involved that her daughter didn’t know who to listen to, me or her mum! The experience gave me a wonderful insight into why this particular student often came to grinding halts and seemed unable to get going again under her own steam: the mother had always micromanaged her learning, standing over her and calling out note names. With great tact and diplomacy, I negotiated a new way forward with them both, only made possible because of the unique lesson situation.

My assumption at the beginning of lockdown was that the quality of my teaching would inevitably suffer. In retrospect, I think in many ways it actually improved. It’s good to shake things up once in a while, and online teaching certainly required a need to think outside the box, even for simple logistics such as how to demonstrate a technique up close (I did quite a bit of playing on my forearm, held up to the camera - great for parallel 3rds!) I needed to be even more organised than previously, keeping my usual notes and targets but also ensuring students wrote theirs down in their notebooks as I could not - which in turn helped them retain and take ownership of them. I committed more time to my work: more use of Sibelius to send notated versions of requested tunes; more feeding back to parents; sending or requesting scans or downloads of pieces as I simply couldn’t afford to buy every book owned by every child; recording and sending backing tracks or duet parts to try to compensate for not being able to play together in lessons. I certainly hadn’t expected my students not only to cope with learning this way but, in very many cases, to thrive and begin progressing faster than previously: to soar. These happy findings were shared by many of my fellow instrumental teachers.

Online learning really, really suited many students. A few, it did not. A few simply could not face the idea; it caused them great anxiety, so in those cases parents made the sensible (and kind) decision to discontinue lessons, at least until schools reopened.

In summarising the best and the worst of the last term, I’d have to say that for me it’s proved a fair mix, but the good definitely outweighs the bad.

The Highlights (aside from the sheer godsend of being able to continue working)

• being welcomed into students’ houses by their families, and even having a quick nosey round

• ‘meeting’ students’ cute baby siblings or their pets - with the exception of one girl’s obnoxious parrot who contributed loud, metallic squawks every lesson (apparently he was pretty quiet in reality, but the mic obviously loved him)

• throwing shapes as if under a strobe light with one year 7 boy when Zoom was glitching, then falling about laughing

• screaming and holding my hands out in mock fear whenever a student dropped their phone or iPad (I’m sure that quickly got old, but I found it hilarious)

• students exceeding expectations and making me so proud I could have cried (this counts as quite a few bullet points on its own)

• zero commute: being able to roll out of bed and be teaching 10 minutes later

• with regard to the above, being able to do that happily stinking of garlic and/or coffee.

The Slog

• feeling at the end of 4 hours as if I’d taught for 8

• the low, draining days when Zoom just wasn’t playing ball and everything was tedious and stultifying

• those ‘stuck’ moments when it would have been so much easier to have been in the room with the student, working at the same piano

• feeling seasick when a parent (or, worse, younger sibling) held the iPad all lesson rather than securing it on a stand

• seeing just how fat and sprawling my thighs looked every day on the piano stool

• some of the students’ behaviours (I hadn’t expected the chewing gum, but was in two minds as to whether or not to call them on it when they were in their own homes - I did, however, draw the line when one boy ‘arrived’ at his lesson with a full-on sherbet dip-dab stuffed in his mouth)

• the online Trinity assessments in lieu of exams (anyone who entered candidates for these will appreciate the level of faff involved, especially trying to instruct parents at one remove whilst being unfamiliar with the process yourself)

• missing tiny things, like my selection of crazy stickers for younger learners, who had to make do with the applause and thumbs up emojis I eventually found, some weeks into the new regime

After a term of charting this new territory, arguably with a good deal of success, it’s time for many of us to return to the practice rooms (in those schools gracious enough to accept us, of course - some are requesting that we refrain from darkening their doors and somehow continue to teach all our lessons online after school finishes each day. Oh well, it’s only people’s livelihoods. Anyway, I digress …)

Despite a term I will never forget, and one that has made me proud of my students, my fellow music teachers and myself, I am pleased to be going back to school. I will be continuing a few lessons via Zoom, and have no doubt that online instrumental tuition will now play a far larger role in our profession than during pre-Covid times - however, come Monday I will be up, showered, smartly attired and heaving a minty-fresh sigh of relief through my new mask.