🎻 Some lessons don't happen in the practice room

Hi Reader!

I truly admire every single one of my private students. Some of them are brand new to the fiddle, others have been playing for awhile but are looking for ways to keep developing their musical skills alongside someone to keep them accountable.

Regardless of how long they've been playing, they are each willing to accept feedback from me about their playing and have the courage to ask for the feedback.

Many (though not all) of them are adults. As an adult, it can be hard to admit when you don't know something and harder still to seek guidance on how to improve what you know needs improving. Aren't we supposed to have it all figured out by now? **Gestures airily at "it"...**

Any time a student plays a new tune for me, they're opening themselves up to vulnerability. I think by now they know I'm not going to rip them apart (at least I hope you do!), even if I do get nitpicky with some areas.

When I first started teaching in my 20s, giving feedback was one of the hardest parts of the job because I didn't want to say anything that would offend, hurt feelings or de-motivate a student by mistake.

And as a peacemaker through and through, it's honestly still not easy to give feedback or to make waves. But it does help to remember that the reason why someone is taking lessons with me is not to chat for 30 minutes -- it's to improve their playing! So giving feedback is doing the thing I'm being hired to do...

If you're here reading this letter, my guess is that you love learning. You're curious. You have an open mind, and are receptive to new ideas, challenging old ways of thinking, and you don't crumble into a defensive heap when someone gives you feedback from a kind and courteous standpoint.

Receiving feedback is one part of today's topic. But I want to look a little bit further at what putting this openness into practice looks like, and to do so we'll have to hop outside of the Irish fiddle world for a second (but you know me, I'll be tying it back in).

My "day job" outside the Irish fiddle world is providing customer support for business owners who use MemberVault, which is the software tool I use to host the Tune Library, Irish Fiddle Lilt-Up workshops and other trainings that you've likely come across from me in past.

One of the most valuable if not easy parts of my job is the opportunity to take ownership and responsibility in conversations where it's the last thing I want to do. You can really get chewed out as a customer support agent, and in the tech world it's sometimes because of something your platform did, but other times it's most definitely user error or an issue with another platform that your customers are using alongside yours.

I was also lucky to have an incredible teammate train me for the role, and she taught me to be able to detach personally from what feels like an attack in chat support and to instead put on the curiosity hat.

Did I do something wrong? If so, here's how to apologize graciously and to take that feedback to do a better job. If not, is there a way that I can still sit with this person and help them feel supported even if the solution to their problem ultimately lies elsewhere?

Both the ability to zoom out of my inner bubble to get curious instead of cranky, and the ability to assume a shared responsibility are handy tools to have in the customer support world. And they're great tools to have in learning Irish traditional music whether you give or receive feedback in a lesson or a session.

But I would argue the most important use for these skills is about how we handle conversations around race and how I as a white female can be a better ally to people of color.

This past week I've been riveted to my screen following a story on Instagram where people who look like me have not been receptive to feedback, and who have chosen to ignore, block or detach from a conversation that desperately needs to happen.

I mentioned Glo Atanmo at the top of this newsletter and that her situation last weekend inspired the topic for today. Indeed, I've found it difficult to think of much else this week. I've followed Glo for years after hearing her on a podcast interview and falling in love with her vitality for life and travel. She's also an inspiration for how to be a better person.

The story I've been riveted to this week centers around people sharing Glo's words without attributing proper credit to her, and then how they have reacted when she and her community of allies called them out for it. I do highly encourage you read through Glo's page to see more of the story.

I read a lot, and as part of my monthly reading I like to include a book that challenges me to think, examine prejudices, and consider how racism still exists today. A lot of times as I'm reading, I wonder if I'll be able to recognize it because it's gotten so subtle.

What Glo shared this past week was a sign for me. "You want to know what it looks like? Here's an example, and here's what you can do about it."

When I read through the posts on Glo's page, it was easy for me to see her message and to take note on how I should react if I ever posted someone else's words without crediting them (or more likely in the trad world posted a modern tune without crediting a known tune writer... and yes, sometimes that's easier said than done but is a great learning opportunity and chance to do research).

Knowing what we should do and actually practicing doing it are two different things. I have a feeling part of the work lies there, and that there will be additional opportunities to practice that work in future.

Another part of the work is spreading awareness for Glo's story, and it's why I chose to cover this today -- it is hard to talk about racism and the sneaky ways it shows up in all of us even when we have the best of intentions, and it's not something I've really overtly talked about online (but white silence is a thing, and it's my particular barrier to overcome).

But it is something I think about regularly, and while this is still very much going to be an Irish fiddle newsletter moving forward, these themes are likely to keep resurfacing as a way to make sense of it all with a medium that we know well.

I find it interesting that the quote itself that has prompted the conversation around credit and feedback is also one that I think we as musicians can recognize in our own progress:

I am reminded of my own lackluster attempts at creating groove in a reel, hearing the difference between a student's playing in our first lesson to even just a few months down the road, and people who made mistakes in sessions but then took the lesson and came back again.

We have opportunities to practice receiving and acting on feedback in our daily lives: for me I just named the two major ones in both of my work roles. And like a music practice that strengthens with time and consistency, so to does our ability to navigate more difficult conversations.

You know as a musician that it's not easy, and some practice days have you questioning why you're doing this and what the whole point of it is.

I think the point is rooted in connection and community.

And while Irish traditional music is the medium where I can communicate these ideas best and a strong example of communal music making and sharing, it really does act as a jumping off point beyond this one niche...

Thank you for being here for it all, Reader.

Weekly Tune Library Update

In case you missed it last week, there are two new tutorials in the Tune Library: Hector the Hero and Boys of Ballisodare.

This week I'll be adding The Rambling Pitchfork to our jig section (taking any other jig requests this week too)!

I know this was a heavy topic this week, and it's one that not a lot of people are at the edge of their seat to have a conversation about. If you do want to continue this chat with me, my inbox is open (all feedback welcome, though I will say right now I'm going to lovingly disregard "stay in your lane". Save that for drivers on the highway please).

Have a beautiful, curiosity + learning-filled week, Reader.

~Hannah