I don’t know how many people actually enjoy doing things wrong, but I have to imagine there are plenty who don’t hate it as much as I do. I can just about do it when I’m on my own, but the problem with learning by making mistakes on your own is that you probably don’t know you’re making mistakes or, more important, you don’t know how to fix them.
That’s where teachers come in. Someone who’s already past the stage of making your particular mistakes, can recognize them in others, and knows at least one way to approach the fixing of them. Ideally in a calm and supportive way. But first, you have to do things wrong in front of the teacher. You have to make your mistakes, and do the occasionally odd and sometimes silly-seeming things they ask of you that are totally going to make you physically understand what it is you need to actually be doing if you want to not make the same mistakes in the future. And that’s a devastating thing to ask a person to do. To give up control and be wrong, look weird, on purpose.
If I’m not comfortable with a teacher, it’s likely I will never end up learning as much from them as they have to teach me. If you can’t let go and make a fool of yourself, you miss out. I was going to say that this was, “especially true for a discipline like singing,” but I’m not sure that’s fair to all the rest of the possible disciplines. Really and truly, you miss out on learning new things and refining your craft if you’re too concerned about your image.
It’s possible for a teacher just not to be the right fit. Some teaching styles aren’t very compatible with some learning styles. Some personalities clash. I’ve had two voice teachers that seem to fit perfectly, two that more or less matched, and one that was an utter disaster. When I wasn’t comfortable enough to learn from that teacher, I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to switch to someone new.
But let’s move beyond the problems of being comfortable with a teacher and add a larger audience. I’m talking classes and workshops. You have someone else trying to fix your mistakes in front of a crowd of people just waiting to laugh at you. Nope. Nuh-uh. Time for a complete shutdown. Wait, no, that’s embarrassing in its own way. So you’re trying to fake it while you’re trying to stop talking altogether and, surprise surprise, this hinders your ability to do even the things you already know cold.
I want to tell you about a workshop experience that, while overwhelmingly a positive experience that led to a wonderful new teaching relationship that I appreciate very much, was distinctly difficult to get through in the moment. The workshop was held on Zoom, and part of it involved everyone taking turns to sing a bit of a song (of their choice), be corrected by the expert, and feel the thrill of excitement that (for me) comes with something feeling easier, or sounding better, or both. As my turn approached, I flipped back and forth through my book of lyrics, faster and faster, as I repeatedly changed my mind regarding which song would be best. I felt like it had to be hard enough to show things I felt like I was struggling with, but not so hard that I obviously messed up as a result of over-ambition.
To be honest, probably anything would have been fine for the purposes of this workshop; the leader of the workshop would no doubt have found something to work on, and I don’t believe there really was any judgement from the other participants. But the idea of being taught something new in front of all these other people, most of whom I didn’t know, wouldn’t let me go. By the time I was expected to sing, I was a mess. I answered simple yes-or-no questions with way too much information and then felt guilty and embarrassed for saying what I said. I think I was sweating – at the very least, I was very warm for how cold I know the house was. And I was shaking so badly that I couldn’t hit the play button on my phone to start the song. I had to have it explained for me that I just needed a minute (and thank goodness someone was available to do that explaining).
That’s an example of learning in front of others that turned out well for me despite my anxiety. Here’s one that didn’t have a happy ending.
Adam and I were learning to tango. “Take a ballroom dancing class, it’ll be fun!” learning to tango. We’d tried one of those however-many-lessons-for-$14 deals that turns out to be two introductory sales pitches and some dance parties and actually had fun with that. This was different, it was a proper class. We were going to actually learn to tango. I was so excited about it. I bought special shoes so I would be allowed on the studio floor. And then I started trying to learn and I couldn’t do it right. I couldn’t get my steps the right length, and I felt like I was just so much slower than everyone else. And then they put us in front of that big dance-studio mirror, and I realized I was at least twice the size of the next-largest person there. I could barely look at myself.
Didn’t realize this was a body image issues post? Neither did I, actually, but here we are. Anyway, it’s really about comparing yourself to other people when you are learning. I’d like to tease this apart a little bit. You can learn from others, by observing them and trying to emulate them when appropriate. You can learn with others, working together or in parallel. And you can compete with others, learning in the process. The problem comes when you’re in “safe space” learning mode, and some part of you is trying to compete with your fellow learners. Especially if your assessment of your own abilities is flawed.
I think it was maybe four weeks into the course that I found myself sitting in the car, in the parking lot, sobbing so hard I couldn’t catch my breath and trying to explain to Adam that/why I couldn’t go in there again. It was an experience I’d just as soon never have to repeat, though there is a certain resonance with other experiences from my past. What I’m trying to do these days is be more open to making small mistakes, looking a little bit silly, and hoping that someday I’ll be up to expanding my public-mistake repertoire.
But, just to tie this up, I think that whether you are learning in private from a teacher, or in a group, it comes down to a sense of safety being threatened. Some of us are naturally (or unnaturally) prone to letting that sense of safety be threatened. Trying something new in front of someone, maybe someone who does it better than you, requires an openness to criticism that may be difficult. With luck that criticism will be constructive, but we may have a hard time trusting someone else to be kind.
I’ll just say that if it’s something you’re passionate about, it’s worth the effort.