Closing Time
April 27th is my last day teaching at a University for the foreseeable future. I’d like to use this week’s blog to talk to my students one last time.
Hi Everyone,
When I was 18, I decided to go to college at Capital University and it was magical. I got to be curious and nerdy about the flute and nobody judged me. I got to ask questions about anything and everything and nobody got annoyed with me or thought I was being insubordinate. They took me as I was and allowed me to grow and flourish. They fed my curiosity, showed me how to research, and let me be creative. I had talked about wanting to be a flute professor during high school, before I ever entered a college classroom, and once I got to Capital, I knew that this was truly what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to do for others what Capital and its faculty did for me. That place and those people made me feel accepted and seen and celebrated for all the things that others had told me were weird, quirky, annoying, or insubordinate. (This happened a lot, I’ll have another post on it at another time.)
I have never attended or taught at another school that was as special as Capital, but I have tried, at every institution, to give my students what the faculty at Capital had given me. I have tried to listen, truly listen, to my students. I have tried to hold space for your feelings, positive or negative, about what you are experiencing in college. I have endeavored to never look down on you for not knowing something upon entering college. (What is college for if not to learn?) I have strived to meet you where you are and help you grow into curious and capable young musicians.
I’m sure I’ve failed some of you, especially this semester as I haven’t had the emotional capacity to give as much of myself as I have previously. And if I have failed you, I am truly sorry. But, just because I haven’t been at my best this semester, it doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in you the same way I always have. I believe in all of you. You are all capable and hard-working young musicians who have the potential to succeed in any area of the musical world you choose. It will take a lot of hard work, and it will take a good deal of sacrifice. If I can be of help to you in any way in the future, you need only send me an email. I’ll write that recommendation or make that phone call, happily.
You all, every student I have taught for the last 7 years of adjunct teaching, are the reason that I was able to keep going in this field. I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to help you grow and fill that musical toolbox with the fundamentals that you can build a beautiful musical career on. I’m sorry that I can’t stick around to see how my 2022-2023 freshman will grow, but I have to go take care of myself now. I have to heal from some trauma and intense burn-out. I have to find myself again. I want to feel like I did all those years ago at Capital. Curious. Excited. Nerdy. Accepted. Appreciated. Encouraged.
No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’m in your corner. I believe that you ask questions because you are genuinely curious. I believe that you advocate for yourself without being insubordinate. I believe that your quirks make you uniquely you and that you should never have to change who you are unless that desire to change comes from your own heart and mind.
Teaching you and getting to know you has been one of the greatest joys in my life. I’m immensely proud of all of you. I will deeply, deeply miss you.
To my current freshman, keep listening to the Piano Puzzler, and maybe think of me when you do. And remember, if all else fails, guess Brahms.
All my love,
Dr. Little