by Stephen T. McClard - Complete Article List
My son recently played a solo at Middle School Solo and Ensemble Contest. Shortly before he performed his solo, he played two pieces with the eighth-grade band. Our family schedule was tight for the day, so Andrew took a chance and performed early, before his lips were properly rested. Needless to say, he struggled with the end of the solo. He was less than pleased with his performance and was very worried how this might affect his overall rating.
This was a big day for our band program. As the director, I had worked hard to assist nearly 150 students over the course of three months, to prepare for this event. My assistant and I listened to 71 solos in three rooms. As a parent of one of the performers, I shared in the anxiety about his performance.
Despite many hours of well-spent practice, experience has taught me to expect the unexpected. Performance anxiety, stress and other considerations have a way of influencing the final outcome. Some students work extremely hard while others put little effort toward their events. In either case, it can be difficult to predict what will happen with certainty. I’ve learned to sit back and let the chips fall where they may. This is not so easy to do when it’s my own son.
The outcome, and what leads to the outcome, is different with each student. A few students will do better than expected, and a few will leave me scratching my head. Despite this, there are a few things that can be predicted with certainty. I can bet that many articulations and dynamics will be missed during moments of stress. I can be sure that entire measures can sometimes be missed when focus is lost. I am often amazed when performances are rock solid, even with the students who hardly practiced. It’s hard to predict with any accuracy.
There’s little help I can give once the first few chords of the piano are struck. Months of work before this moment provide good training for a new musician, but it’s what happens after the performance that provides the real education. How we handle our feedback—between the moments the piano plays and the last student is picked up (45 minutes late) from school—is critical for a student’s overall success. It doesn’t matter if a student receives a ‘I’ or a ‘III’; success or failure depends on proper feedback.
Giving praise for success is the easy part. A trained monkey could handily praise great effort or even dumb luck. Dealing with perceived failure is the tough part. This is even more complicated when failure meets lack of previous preparation or an unforeseen circumstance. If my son receives a ‘II’, what’s a director (father) to say?
1. Tell him how great of a performer he is and better luck next time.
2. Tell him he was robbed.
3. Tell him the judging was messed up.
4. Downplay the importance of a ‘I’ rating.
5. Tell him that a ‘II’ is still really good and there is always next year.
6. Inform him that he didn’t deserve a ‘I’.
As a parent, I have a strong urge to protect my son from perceived failure. Although this may help him with his possible disappointment, is it healthy to protect him from this type of experience? As you consider this question, take a closer look at the six options above and consider how you would answer.
Choosing option one (great job, better luck next time) basically gives the impression that you are not sincere in your feedback. Option two (You were robbed!) gives the impression that blame can be placed elsewhere, which could be the case. Option three (poor judging) is just more of the same, shifting blame to others. Option four (ratings are not important) sends out the message that a rating is only important if you are a winner and losers don’t really care. While option five (grow through your experience) is a valuable message, it may not tell the entire story about this rating. Option six (blunt reality) seems harsh and may not reflect the situation. Although this could be true in some cases, this kind of feedback says more about the teacher than the student.
As we waited for Andrew’s rating, I stood with him in the hall and discussed his frustrations. He was certain that he would receive a lower rating than he might have received under better circumstances. Here’s what I told him as we waited:
“It’s tough to know you could have done better with more time to rest. Life is all about choices, and sometimes it hard to make the best choices possible. Responsibility to others comes first, even if it means taking a few steps back. No reason to blame anyone, just consider it feedback for next time. If you do get a lower rating, it’s a great learning experience for the next contest. You learn from your experiences, and that’s what makes you a better performer in the long run. If it doesn’t work out, just remember the truth: You’re a great player and getting better all the time. If it does work out and you receive a ‘I’, be thankful. Carry away a good lesson about your endurance. You should plan on doing some long tones next time to strengthen your lips so you have better muscle strength.”
There’s one rule I try to stick to with feedback: Be honest but also be encouraging—anything else will come across as condescending and may damage the self-concept of the student. Feedback should always produce an overall mentality of hopeful growth in the student. Feedback should never speak to fixed talent or unchangeable personal attributes. Failure should only be seen and presented as honest feedback for the next performance.
Andrew and I patiently waited. After an hour or so, the rating finally arrived. The band received a ‘Superior ’ rating, as did 45 of our soloists—including Andrew. He was relieved and pleased.
