The JOY of Music

Jeff Hornick Band Chair

Fellow Oregon band directors (and, to be honest, all music educators), welcome back to another year of music making. And, if this is your first year in the classroom, I extend an especially warm welcome. I hope that all of your years are off to a fantastic start and that your time is filled with the joy and excitement of making and sharing music with your students and colleagues.

As I write my first OMEA Journal article in a number of years I’d like for us to take a moment to consider an issue common not only to band directors and other music educators, but also to most groups of driven, success-oriented professionals. This issue is burnout.

Those who know me likely know that over the last several years I’ve rekindled a childhood obsession with motor sports. While I don’t race, I do participate in track days sponsored by various organizations. One of those organizations, the National Auto Sport Association, puts out a monthly electronic magazine, and a recent issue had column on the issue of burnout.

The column started with a quote from the 1971 Steve McQueen movie Le Mans, “When you’re racing, it’s life. Anything that happens before and after is just waiting.” The author goes on to relate, among other things, how even peripheral acquaintances could instantly tell how his weekend at the track had gone, especially if it had been less than hoped for.

You may be asking, at this point, how this relates to what we do in general, and burnout in particular. The connection comes in our desire (need?) to perform at the highest possible level and that anything less (though not life-threatening as it might be on a race track) is considered a “failure.” This need for perfection can become a near obsession with all of the issues and problems associated with that condition. Accordingly, I would encourage everyone not to lower performance standards but to regularly evaluate our actions and be on the lookout that they are causing issues not only in our lives but also in the lives of those around us (family, friends, and students).

The effect on our students is often overlooked. How many students, for example, do we drive away from our programs pursuing our need for “perfection?” Perhaps more importantly, what are we teaching our students about music? Are we teaching them that music’s value (and, by extension, their own value as musicians) lies in a “perfect performance” or are we teaching them that music can be a way of connecting with their humanity? Please note that I am in no way saying that these two goals are mutually exclusive. What I am saying is that we should constantly monitor the messages that we are sending to what is ultimately our most important audience, our students.

I’m reminded of something I read once in one of the many books written by, and about, John Wooden, the great UCLA men’s basketball coach. In a nutshell, Wooden always saw himself as a “teacher,” not a “coach.” Further, he believed that he didn’t teach basketball but that he taught through basketball. Though Wooden certainly pushed his players to ever higher levels of performance, it was always with the idea of being better than one was the day before, not with winning championships, or of beating another team. I believe that this was a major factor in allowing him to survive 30-plus years as a major college basketball coach and a huge reason that so many of his former players went on to great success inside and outside of basketball.

So what, then, is the point of this rambling discourse? In a word, perspective. We need to always make sure that we take time for ourselves and those around us and ensure that we are sharing the JOY of music and music making with our students.

Again, I hope that each and every one of us has a great year and I look forward to seeing everybody in Eugene in January.