I took an art class in the 7th grade. Like most of the others I wasn't very good. But the teacher gave us an overview of the world of art and the process involved in creating it. What I remember the most (other than my failed attempts) was that there was a way to teach the process. I just thought that artists were born with the knowledge. Like babies are born with the ability to cry or poop.
I was also relieved that she didn't judge us on our artistry. We were graded on how well we understood the process. Did we learn the techniques? Did we employ them properly? These are teachable skills. Individual creativity is where the "talent" part comes in. Mine seemed to mimic baby poop.
The following year was my first of five years of singing in the school choir. I joined as a way of getting out of wood shop. Yep. I couldn't manage wood shop. (insert a moment of shame here) It seems that there are rules. I'm not always real good with rules. However the school has this thing where they want to students to finish the class with the same number of fingers that they started with.
So I sang in the choir. As it turns out I was pretty good at it. Not the best, but I could hold my own. Our choir director worked us hard and we thrived. I didn't realize how good we had become until we were at festival one year and several of the other choirs competing came into the auditorium to hear us.
But that's not why I loved it. I loved the process. The work didn't seem as hard as it was because it was fun. I didn't understand why we had to do it "one more time" because it sounded really good. But the next time it sounded even better and then better still. And I slowly began to understand that it was a process. I don't think any of us thought that we were more talented than the others. We were simply lucky to have a choir teacher who understood the process.
Performance seemed to be a necessary nuisance. We practiced during the first semester so we could perform at the Christmas recital. The second semester we had festival, a musical, and a Spring Concert. Many of our concert pieces truly moved me. I wanted to perform those for my family. Not because I was in the choir, but because the music was just so beautiful that it needed to be heard.
I have two frustrations as a guitar teacher. The first is my inability to communicate properly with my students. ("No. Your other left hand.") The second is that I have not yet found a proper way to teach the love of the process. There are times when I feel like my former choir teacher. But there are other times I feel like I imagine my former wood shop teacher felt when confronted with someone like me. Oh I know there will be attempts to console me. ("There, there. It's not your fault. Some people are just.......") But I'm convinced there is a process to properly teach the love of the process. Like the song says, "It is my quest".