As you can probably imagine, I spend a lot of time thinking about what it means to be a music studio teacher in today’s music teaching world. Something that really impresses me is how we’re going through an extraordinary transformation in teacher mindset. Unlike previous generations, today’s teachers are increasingly comfortable helping students explore a wide range of musical goals and personal interests. We’ve moved away from highly defined performance models toward strategies that value curiosity, creativity, and student agency. Here at Teach Music 21C, this flexibility may lead to unfamiliar territory, but it also invites deeper connections with our students. Through our work as facilitators rather than directors, we celebrate the opportunity to co-create meaningful musical experiences grounded in openness and mutual respect.

As music teachers, we develop our own teaching habits. We listen for the missed notes, notice the uneven rhythms, identify the technical challenges, and look for what needs to be corrected. We pay a lot of attention to our students making progress. These aspects are essential to our work, but over time, they can inadvertently become our default approach of seeing students. We assume making progress is easy for everyone. We notice what’s missing before acknowledging that we don’t know what’s entirely going on in our students’ learning journey. A student’s daily life, the obstacles they face, their sensitivity, or discomfort with taking a risk can easily take over their journey.

Recently, while talking with teachers about the challenges they face, I found myself asking a different question: “What makes this situation harder than it needs to be?” It’s a simple question that invites us to step back and take a deep breath. Maybe we're so focused on what a student can’t yet do that we’ve forgotten about our own creativity and reflective processes. Maybe our expectations, lesson routines, or approaches to practice are creating obstacles that we could remove. Instead of working harder to correct the problem, we may need to think differently about the situation. 

Have you ever thought about your vision of teaching? About what you'd like to help your students achieve that lasts long past their final lesson? As music teachers, we know firsthand how much making music can enrich our lives. It’s more than notes and rhythms, melodies and harmonies. Music can add depth and colour to who we are. It can bring joy, connection, challenge, restoration, and a sense of fulfillment to our everyday lives. 

What if our teaching could help our students experience that for themselves? Not simply music they study for a few years. Not simply pieces they learn, exams they complete, or performances they give. What if music became something they live with? Something they return to when they need energy or inspiration. Something they share with others. Something that gives them a way to express themselves, explore who they are, connect with their families and communities, and add something meaningful to their lives. And something that can continue long after their final lesson with us.

Music teaching is evolving. Sometimes slowly. Sometimes faster than we can even imagine. These days I’m really grateful for all the teachers who have embraced Students’ Own Repertoire Choice as a mainstay strategy. That’s not to say it was easy to get things going. Because it took trial and error. Figuring things out wasn’t an overnight undertaking. Now if you’re new to Students’ Own Repertoire Choice, we’ve got timely information available so that you can get this amazing teaching strategy up and running as soon as possible. And if you’ve been teaching with Students’ Own Repertoire Choice for some time, a quick review to confirm the various layers might be appropriate. 

Are you busy these days? Do you find it’s easy to get caught up in the immediate work of teaching: the next piece, the next page, the next technique, the next recital, the next exam. Music teachers have so much to accomplish that it can be challenging to slow down for a moment and remind ourselves of - Who are we doing this for? 

The answer is, of course, the real life music student sitting in front of us. Not the method book. Not the syllabus. Not the next level. Not even the lesson we planned yesterday. Our work starts with recognizing and supporting the real person in our studio - someone who has their own interests, experiences, abilities, questions, and music already percolating in their ears.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve received emails from several teachers with concerns. Students seem to be stuck and don’t really care about what’s going on. Lessons that once worked no longer seem to be working. And method books teachers have relied on for years suddenly feel like they’re getting in the way rather than helping. One teacher described feeling defeated. Another wondered what had happened to their teaching. I suspect there are more teachers feeling this way than we realize.

So let’s take a breath and ask different questions: What if the problem isn’t our teaching? What if our comfort with method books is getting in the way? What if the solution is more about the students joining us in the studio this year? 

I must admit - I’m someone who appreciates a certain amount of comfort and stability in my teaching. I like knowing what time my students are having lessons. How many weeks I’ll be teaching. When the concerts will be held. I settle into my comfort zone because these things give me confidence and make certain that my teaching is manageable and productive. 

At the same time, I’m also aware the more time I spend in my comfort zone, it becomes increasingly likely that I’ll be unable to get out of my comfort zone. And that’s not something I want to sign up for.

September is a busy time of year for music teachers. New students arrive. Returning students bring spontaneous interests, remarkable experiences, unusual questions, along with surprising and delightful possibilities. After our summer break, music teachers return to teaching with renewed enthusiasm and awareness. There’s an invitation for us to look beyond lessons and imagine where making music might take our students over the lifetime that stretches ahead. 

Music making possibilities are endless. Students may discover something new, take an unexplored direction for expressing themselves, gain confidence, connect with others, or simply continue to experience the joy of making music they know so well. Their music making life can be a source of creativity, friendship, expression, community, confidence, discovery, challenge, comfort, and joy. It can also change as students change, taking new forms at different stages of life.

As summer winds down, it’s natural for music teachers to start getting ready for September. Lesson plans. Repertoire selection. Scheduling. Goal setting. All the practical details that come with starting again. There’s a lot on the list.

But before getting over-focussed on what you’re going to teach, there may be something even more important to prepare—something that will fundamentally influence how you navigate the myriad of opportunities, challenges, celebrations, detours, and awakenings that will soon take shape. 

As music teachers, we spend much of the year pouring ourselves into our students’ musical journeys. Often, it can feel like there’s no end to the list of tasks needing our attention—lessons to plan, emails to answer, performances to prepare for, repertoire to choose, and students to encourage. That’s why I appreciate the summer break. It’s a welcome opening to recharge our own wellbeing and simply breathe a little more deeply.