In the 1980s, Robert Fulghum wrote a book of essays All I really need to know I learned in Kindergarten. The phrase rolls off my tongue now, as this title has become a part of our American cultural landscape (or else I read it, liked it, and don’t remember a lick about what he wrote).
I’ve been doing some self-reflection lately and realized that so much of my work habits are drawn from my experiences with music. I began to daydream that perhaps all I really need to know I learned in my music lessons.
I had a variety of teachers, from the clarinet player that taught me trombone, to the professors I had in college, and then back to the lady who first taught be Suzuki on the piano. While little of what I touch becomes perfect, people have called me a perfectionist. I disagree somewhat, choosing instead to see these habits through the lens of practicing. In a musical performance there are many solutions. There are many ways to play one phrase or another, and while you may have found a perfectly good one, there are many other viable sources.
I wrote here recently about the human-ness of music in my reflection on Gary Stager’s use of music software to create his “learning adventure.” I often wonder if Stager turns to music as his example because he simply likes music (which I have a feeling he does, very much, especially jazz), or because music plays a special role in developing our children in schools.
When I have the occasion to speak in front of others I often think of it as a performance, not unlike preparing for a “solo contest” like I did back in school. You’d have to play a piece off an approved list, and then three judges would talk into a microphone while you performed, telling us what was both good and not good about your performance. You’d get a score, then go home.
A conference presentation is different, of course, but shares some of this mentality. But despite getting a score, you are judged. Instead of simply playing the notes of a master, you may reference the masters, but usually the ideas are you own. Instead of scrutinizing your tone, folks may notice the quality of your slides. They’ll certainly be paying attention to your cadence and the likability of what you’re talking about.
Becoming a better musician requires one to have the discipline to self-judge and improve with trial, error, and the application of acquired technique. But wouldn’t improvement in almost any situation require the same, if not similar procedure?
I learned a lot studying music. Someone once asked me if I regretted studying it in college. It certainly wasn’t a choice that led to a fast track for what I’m doing now. But no, there is no regret. My success, however I see it, is directly influenced by what I learned growing up, developing as a musician. It’s why I lament schools that cut “fat” in their programs that do away with this essential art form. I am not as confident that the visual arts or drama or dance are as essential. But that in no way makes me think they are any less important to the well-being of our society’s younger segment. There are a lot of important lessons learned in Kindergarten, including the very ways we learn. But both the musical and musically-influenced traits I picked up over the years are just as, if not more, important.