Professional paranoia

Since his arrival at NRHS, Choir Teacher Buzz has been revving the engine and gunning the throttle on the vocal program.  In less than two years, he's gone from two choirs to four, and it looks like he'll be adding a fifth next year.  But remember that NRHS is a relatively small school, filled with kids who love to stretch themselves too thin - and when you're trying to build a blue-ribbon choir program, you'll recruit everyone you can... including the instrumental kids...*especially* the instrumental kids with their years of training in note reading, and developed sense of rhythm.

To be fair, Buzz isn't trying to 'steal' my kids per se - he maintains that having vocal *and* instrumental training is crucial to developing musicians.  He isn't wrong about that. What I question is his perspective of how all of this will play out.  Buzz doesn't see the the disadvantage he's handing me.  He's a young teacher out to prove his potential to the world (and to be sure, his potential is considerable).  He has no family to tie him down, and as far as I can tell - he devotes every waking hour to his craft, which is admirable to an extent, but it is worrisome to people like me who have been trying to find a healthy balance for myself, my students and their families.

One of our other colleagues in the performing arts dept. is very open about the fact that she expects students to prioritize her program over everything else (including academics).  Buzz believes that he's nothing like her, but I'm not sure he realizes that the expectations he sets up fall like dominoes into the same direction.  He won't tell kids to prioritize his program, but he'll stir them into such a state that they will willingly make sacrifices in their other commitments to accommodate his goals.  Every time I see him talking to one of my band/orchestra kids, it feels like I'm watching a cereal commercial where the announcer pushes the product as 'part of this balanced breakfast' - when the truth is that the manufacturer has no concern as to whether you actually include the *other* components of that meal.  They just want you to buy their product. Likewise, he wants these kids desperately, but ultimately, it will be up to them to find their own balance.

Sometimes I wonder if my worries stem from the fact that I just don't want to work as intensely as he does.  He's offering exotic trips, competitive festivals and far more performance opportunities.. all of which are meant to change students lives.  I'm offering... well... a zen perspective on music making, designed to fit peoples lives as they already exist.  And it's more than just a fear that they'll abandon me for him - it's a fear that even if they stay enrolled in both instrumental and vocal, they'll prioritize vocal over instrumental, simply because he tends to be more demanding than I.  As his program grows, I expect there to be more and more conflicts.

So, do I feel threatened?  Hell yes.  I wouldn't change my goals for his, but I'm afraid that many of my students would because... who wouldn't?   And if it did turn out that our shared students tended to value his experience over mine - he might feel pity for me, but he will also continue to do what's best for his program.

So... do I talk with him about this?  I mean... how is that supposed to come off?  "Hey Buzz, could you not be so exciting and fun?  It's pulling too many of my kids.  I mean, could you just try to be a little less amazing?"  I know exactly how that sounds.  And what am I supposed to tell my kids who want to audition for his groups?  "Don't go!  It's a cook book!"  It's tempting.  It's also petty and smacks of sabotage.  Plus, if they really do end up preferring his experience over mine, who am I to deny them?

Along time ago, in the days before Principal Palpatine, the rise and fall of Empire High School, and the subsequent establishment of the New Republic (Which, is flourishing quite nicely, by the way).... *I* was the hot young music teacher on campus, who took the music program from obscurity, and put it on the map and in the consciousness of the rest of the school.  But I was no Buzz - I had none of his confidence, and my skills as a conductor and educator were significantly weaker (to be fair, I hadn't started my masters at that time, whereas he is just finishing his).   Even so, at my best, I can't do the same job with a choir that he can - a fact I don't beat myself up over.  I at least take credit for handing him something that he can work with (It is likely that had Buzz been on the scene back when I first got to NRHS, he wouldn't have *wanted* to work at this school.)

I'm not particularly envious of Buzz (perhaps a little).  I fear, however, that in order to avoid having the instrumental program become 1) a training ground for choir or 2) a second hobby for the music students.... I would have to become the kind of director I don't want to be.  Basically, I would have to become like him - plan his kind of calendar, and make similar demands of my own kids.  The students wouldn't be able to split their energies between both - they would *have* to choose.

I am not him, and I have no desire to be, but I don't know how to protect what I have left without engaging in an unofficial competition.  Maybe I should put more faith in my students, and in their loyalty to me.