Effing kids and their effing laziness and their effing entitlement.

I feel like I've been spewing a lot of anger and bitterness on my Facebook lately in regards to my disappointment and incredulousness at some students' attitudes, so I'm re-directing it here in an effort to not appear completely vile and cynical to my colleagues that see my Facebook posts. Obviously, it's not a new thing. There are always going to be entitled kids in every new class. - And I should interject this by stating that there are also always many students who I learn to admire and gain an affection for because they show true dedication and respect for their work. - Something's different this year, though. There are just SO many bad students. Bad writing. Bad studying. Bad attitudes. And, above anything else, such unbelievably low standards for themselves.

The reason I react to it so strongly is that these are students that are supposedly going to be future professionals in the music and music education world. At least that's what they think. That they are going to join the ranks of people who have worked extremely hard - extremely hard - to be able to join a profession and field that is competitive and very unforgiving. And they did it because they also knew that the rewards - not necessarily monetary, snort - of being in music and educating younger generations about music are indescribably grand. The problem is that what their attitudes towards their education show is that they want - no, expect - to get handed this degree in four years for being utterly mediocre. Sometimes, much worse than mediocre. Piss poor. They don't practice. They don't study. They don't show up for class.

They, in one instance this past week, have their eyes glued to their laptop watching some completely unrelated video when the rest of the class is watching the DVD that I bought - with my own money, for my students - of Leonard Bernstein conducting the Vienna Philharmonic in the finale of Beethoven's triumphant Symphony No. 9 in order to usher in our section on the Romantic Era of music and when I specifically walk slowly around the perimeter of the rather large classroom to call his attention and tell him to turn off his computer, he insists that he was merely "trying to bookmark Beethoven 9 on his computer so that he could listen to it over the weekend and a pop-up ad came up that was really flashy so it looked like he was watching something else."

Bullsh*t. Sorry.

Pop-up ads take roughly .7 seconds to click and close.

As I told his applied teacher later on in the week, after I received the student's email apology and explanation, that I accepted his apology but I don't believe a word of his excuse. Why would somebody have tickets to see the Chicago Symphony perform live, and spend the entire concert glued to their cellphone watching a separate Youtube video? Nonsense.

Thanks for the message. I don't believe you. Now, do better.

I don't yell at students. And I very rarely call them out in class. But I watch them. Like a hawk. Even while I'm lecturing. And I was watching you, student. I've been watching you all semester while you paid very little attention to the material I presented to you in class. I've been watching you as you consistently fail every single quiz and exam I give because you are so ill-prepared. I watched you make zero use of the chapter readings I assigned, the power point presentations I created for every single topic, the performance videos I show, the music clips we listen to and the 20-page study guide I created that literally that outlines everything we talk about in class and that you are quizzed on. And I watched you this day as your eyes were glued to the flashing video on your computer screen while your hands made zero effort towards clicking anything closed and readjusting your eyes up to the screen at the front of the classroom. I also watched you in the previous theory and ear training classes I taught you in as well, as you displayed the same exact lack of concern for your education and attendance.

So, when you proclaim yourself to be a misunderstood martyr who was just so captivated by this piece of music all of a sudden, that you felt deeply compelled to mark something for review and for study over the weekend - which is three days away, by the way - and was brought down by one singular pesky pop-up ad, I'm going to go beyond just looking at the myriad possible explanations that could be applied to the matter at hand and I am going to conjure up all of the information that you have given me over the past several months about you and your attitude towards music and education and call bullsh*t.

And when another professor then calls you out and informs you that your performance and attitude is simply not going to be sufficient for completing this major successfully - harsh, but very factual - you continue to play the martyr.

Who are these people that are telling him he is a "great musician"? Bernstein was a great musician. The members of the Vienna Philharmonic are great musicians. Beethoven was a great musician. A kid who is sitting in the lowest band and fails all his classes yet puts zero work into his training is not a great musician. And sorry, Gina, whoever you are, that your youth director told you you couldn't be a music minister because you were fat. That has nothing to do with this kid. He can't be a professional musician because he is bad and won't listen to any of the people that are trying to help him become less bad. You know, the teachers that are trying to teach him. If he'd show up to class. pay attention and quit making excuses he would understand that.

Here's another life lesson for you, student.  There are no martyrs in music. (At least not since the Renaissance Era, probably.) 

There are people who fail, certainly. I've done that myself plenty of times. As a college student, I skipped out on classes that I thought were beneath me. None of them were music classes - at least there's that. But I didn't follow the rules, even though the rules were simply to show up, do the work that you already knew how to do and you would get your A. But the classes were lame and a waste of my time, so I would skip class and laugh and laugh in my idiocy. I laughed until the end of the semester, when I turned in my very well-done final project and the teacher informed me that she would be giving me a C for the final project because I "did more work than I needed to which shows that I was not present to listen to the directions." 

Damn.

I passed the class, but I didn't get an A like I should have. I should have. And the teacher was right. I was an idiot and I blew my shot at a 4.0 for being a moron. Lesson learned.

And then there was the time that I went in to grad school as a new teaching assistant and a performance major. It was a fairly spontaneous decision to go to grad school and my playing was out of shape from lack of practice. So when the auditions were done and seatings were posted, I was sitting last chair in the Wind Ensemble. Last chair underneath a section of undergraduates who looked at me like a joke. I don't remember much about that first semester. We took a trip to New York to play in Carnegie Hall. Where I sat last chair. I should have been at the top of the section. I should have. Besides that, I remember practicing. A lot. A lot a lot. Kept my mouth shut, swallowed my pride and practiced. So I could get my chops back. So that I could take the auditions again the next semester and get the principal chair. 

And that happened.

So, no, student. There are no martyrs. There are only people who work, fail, work harder and succeed. But you, student, will probably never learn that lesson. Sad.

ps. If our job as a teacher is "not to discourage people from being a music major," then you must ask yourself the question: What is my job as a student? Answer that question and I think you'll at least gain a little bit of perspective.