On March 15, 2020, I sent the following text to the parents of my students:
I had no idea of the magnitude of my words- I was simply regurgitating statements from county officials who believed classes could resume in 15 days.
15 days.
This was supposed to last 15 days.
With a sinking heart, I watched text after text fizzled out my thriving 23-person studio to five. Next came the quarantine order followed by waves of lay-offs and furloughs. It seemed selfish to ask parents to keep their kids in lessons when I didn’t have a concrete plan in place, a reason to make it worth their money. Online piano lessons? How? Voice lessons over video chat? Impossible.
Still, I was hopeful. With my five remaining students, we trialed and error-ed online lessons via Facetime. My kids - my stars - had no idea how this would pan out. Honestly, neither did I. Internet issues. Screenshots. Using wall props to hold phone cameras. Sound delay. Realizing where my in-person teaching had failed; now, my online teaching would have to make up for it.
As we navigated through finished songs and two weeks of quarantine turned to finishing out the school year remotely, it was evident that going back to in-person lessons and any semblance of normalcy was not an option for the foreseeable future. My kids - my stars - sick of online school, missing their friends, cancelled graduations. I knew the morale had to be lifted. And I knew what needed to happen.
I remember tweeting about it- speaking it into existence, right?? Except I had no idea how I was gonna pull it off. I had experienced the lag of Zoom from having to finish my second semester of grad studies online, and I had read about the infamous security breeches. There was no way I was exposing my kids and their families to that threat. Skype seemed like a viable alternative, in my humble opinion, but apparently no one uses Skype in 2020...
I managed to convince the parents that Skype was the safest alternative, letting them know they could send their loved ones a secure link (mind you I am not a tech-y person at all, but COVID-19 has forced us all to become acquainted with this side of ourselves). Somewhere along the lines, some of my old students came on board excited about the possibility of a virtual performance.
It was of utmost importance to me that we did not pre-record any of their performances. With the craze of virtual choirs and ensembles, I needed my kids to experience two things as a result of this:
1. Real time music making with real time human interaction, NOT whatever was being staged going viral on the internet.
2. Learn professional performance practice and etiquette, albeit virtually.
After numerous test calls and sound checks, we went live for our virtual spring recital!!
I wish I could tell you we pulled it off flawlessly. OF COURSE we had relatives that left their mics unmuted. YOU BET our call dropped more than once. But - I can guarantee you 100%, you have NEVER seen a group of kids keep it together and perform their best over a screen with 30+ tuned into a video call the way mine did.
Where are we now, you may ask? An optional summer vacation turned into kids begging their parents to keep taking lessons. As the state began reopening phases, we safely began transitioning to in-home and blended lessons practicing social distancing. Even some new kids signed up along the way. Some former students felt comfortable beginning lessons again; they missed it.
Missing music is the most unfathomable “missing” you can experience. I truly believe all artists are essential workers. It is heart-breakingly inspiring to see my musical role models be in the same boat as I am today. Still, as I follow their journey through this unprecedented time, I realize the music never stopped. It may have stopped physically, but it will never stop internally. THIS is essential. This is what I want to teach my kids.
There’s no telling what’s in store for the remainder of 2020. One thing I know for certain is that music making MUST and WILL go on.
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