Many people want to play music but think they aren't capable somehow. Usually they are wrong. Most folks are capable of learning an instrument up to a certain level. It's not often a matter of talent but rather a matter of time. As a professional I may practice as much as five hours per day, seven days per week. Most people won't or can't put in those kind of hours on a regular basis.
To be fair, some have physical reasons for not being able to play an instrument. However, as a guitar teacher part of my job is to see if some of these issues can be overcome. I feel bad when I can't find a solution to their problem. I can only imagine the disappointment of that unrequited desire.
There once was a retired gentleman who wanted to play. He had been given a cheap electric guitar by his wife. But he had very large hands and always seemed to push down two strings at once. He just couldn't squeeze his big fingers into such tiny space. I simply showed him a guitar with a wider neck and greater space between the strings and I was an instant hero.
There was a young woman who wanted to play classical guitar. The problem was that she had grown up on a farm and as a young girl had lost her left index finger in an accident. She knew that she needed all of her fingers to play but wanted to know if there was anything that could be done to learn some simple songs. Again the solution was simple. I taught her to play left-handed. The plucking hand only requires the use of three fingers and a thumb. She then had all of the necessary digits. She was a terrific student and studied with me for about three years.
As dramatic as these stories seem I think most music teachers, or all teachers I suppose, have similar stories to tell. And when we're able to find solutions to these problems we kinda want to straighten our halos or put on our capes and strut some.
There are other times when I want to set fire to the cape or put the halo back in a drawer. I can accept the reality that some people will never get to play no matter how much they want or how hard I try to help. But when folks have a solvable problem and I take too long to figure it out my professional pride takes a deserved hit.
Such was the case recently involving an old childhood friend. She wants to play ukulele despite her arthritic fingers. A year and a half ago I confirmed her fears that it might not happen. This past weekend I thought of a possible solution. She was thrilled and we will pursue it. But it saddens me a bit to think that we could have begun this process several months ago.
I often remind my students to keep trying and not give up. I forget sometimes that I need to take my own advice.