Truthfully And Well

Thoughts on teaching

Recently I’ve been reminded of what it means to teach truthfully, and to teach well. Why the distinction? Because teaching the truth poorly is one of the most repulsive offenses one can commit. I’ll explain.

In my work as a professional musician, I have taught in several capacities for over 20 years: one-on-one lessons, classes, workshops, lectures—from infants to retirees. What I consider to be of the utmost importance, be it with a child’s guitar lesson, a grad school lecture, or an adult starting a new hobby, is to be truthful. One approach to this (in the context of a guitar lesson) is to teach a new student an E minor chord immediately. An E minor chord may be executed with the two strongest fingers—index and middle—side by side on two deeply resonating lower strings. Unlike many guitar chords a new student faces, all six strings may be struck at once. The psychological impact of making a familiar sound with the entirety of an instrument’s capability within the first 2 minutes of a lesson is palpable. It is an experience I never grow tired of witnessing. Many people are reticent about learning an instrument, and having it proven that there is a truthful entry point for them establishes that they are not excluded from the pursuit. They are welcomed in, and they are now curious and hungry. There is now incentive to know more.

From here, I draw on biomechanics to teach the second chord—C major. By playing an E minor with the index and middle finger, one may keep the middle finger as is and reposition the index while adding the ring finger. The middle finger acts as an anchor to allow the ease of transition between these two chords. But now, one must avoid hitting the lowest string. Through strength as their anchor, one is enabled to move forward and face new challenges. Harmonically, they have created a beautiful sound—E minor relates to C as the minor third, C relates to E minor as the major sixth. This combination exists in music that goes back centuries. It is a sound that is both familiar and exciting when you are within its vibrations as a newly arrived visitor.

What does this all have to do with truth? I will tell you. I would be equally truthful as a teacher if I sat a new student down and said:

“Music requires hard work, commitment, and focus if you want to be good at it. Your hands likely aren’t strong enough to play most of the thousands of chords that exist, and it will likely take weeks or months for you to be able to play an entire song. Ok, let’s get started.”

To teach the truth well is to know the truth well. To know what is true is to know how to enter into it, and more importantly, how to bring others into it. Entering into what is true requires an anchor of strength from which you may grow and face the difficult nature of accepting what is confusing, or even painful. Most importantly, knowing what is true is not enough. Wilfred Owen once wrote:

“All a poet can do today is warn. That is why the true Poets must be truthful.”

If one is steeped in what is true, it is their duty to bring others in under that refuge. That is not possible if you refuse to be transformed by the truth in addition to knowing what is true. Your accomplishments, your knowledge, your understanding mean absolutely nothing if the truth that defines them does not compel you to share it as the free gift it has always been.

To teach truthfully and well, one must be regenerative in their reduction and anchored in a strength which does not yield.