On violins, language, and dental care
I was chatting with my dental hygienist at my dentist appointment this morning. We always have great conversations. This morning the topic somehow shifted to careers and beginnings, and I told her a story I once heard. It's almost certainly apocryphal, but it goes something like this.
There once was a young man with a violin. This young man enjoyed playing his violin, and all of his friends told him he was was quite good at it. For years he would play it in his spare time. Finally, with the support of his friends, he decided he would explore the possibility of studying to play his violin more seriously. He lived in a large city, so there was no shortage of violin teachers to guide him, but there was one master in particular who was reputed to be the best. This young man went to this master and asked for training. The master asked him to play something for him on the spot as a sort of brief audition.
The young man readied his instrument and began playing. It was a heartfelt piece and an old favorite of his, with happy moments and sad, fast sections and slow, broad and delicate. The master listened carefully throughout, and when the young man finished he paused briefly in reflection. The master said simply, "That was quite good, but you will never be a master of the violin. This is not the career for you."
The young man was heartbroken, but he thanked the master and went on his way. He went on to a fine career selling musical instruments, and he continued to play his violin with his friends. Many years later that same master came into his store looking for a new violin for his granddaughter. After finishing with business, the man -- who was no longer young anymore -- reintroduced himself to the master and reminded him of their past meeting. "Ah yes," said the master, "I thought I your face looked familiar. I recall your performance was quite heartfelt and technically excellent."
The man was confused. "But sir, you said that day that I would never be a master of the violin."
"Oh, I say that to all of my prospective students. It's the ones who have the confidence to try anyway who become truly great."
My dental hygienist was quiet for a bit. Thoughtful. After a time she told me a story of her own, this one quite true.
When my dental hygienist came to America from Germany, she spoke no English at all. After a few years of staying home and remaining unable to participate in society, she decided to take a some classes and get a job. After she had acquired a little proficiency in the language she decided to learn the trade of a dental hygienist. She was doing well in most of her classes, but partway into the training they had a special trainer come in a few days a week to teach them formal, professional English and its differences from colloquial English. She was concerned. She'd only just barely begun learning English at all, and with her broken and heavily-accented English she was worried that her lack of formal training in the language would cause her problems. The special trainer frowned and paused in reflection. He explained that formal, professional English is vital for effectively communicating with patients and with doctors. He explained that without fluency in English she may have a lot of trouble working as a dental hygienist. This may not be the right career for her.
She was heartbroken. She went to her usual instructor and told him about her concerns and what the language trainer had told her. Her usual instructor reassured her. She may need to work extra hard to strengthen her language skills, but she was capable of mastering the language, and she would be a wonderful dental hygienist when she did. This reassurance was exactly what she needed: she continued her studies, easily surpassed the rest of the language class even with her disadvantage. That was many years ago, and she has since grown into certainly the best dental hygienist that I've ever had prodding about in my mouth.
"Counselors," my hygienist explained to me, "should be very careful when talking to people seeking their opinions. Your violin master crushed that boy's spirit. He should have considered the effect his words would have."
She said something, I think, about the differences between a musical career and a dental career, but she also said something about the effect that simple opinions and concerns from those in positions of leadership can have on those who respect them.
There once was a young man with a violin. This young man enjoyed playing his violin, and all of his friends told him he was was quite good at it. For years he would play it in his spare time. Finally, with the support of his friends, he decided he would explore the possibility of studying to play his violin more seriously. He lived in a large city, so there was no shortage of violin teachers to guide him, but there was one master in particular who was reputed to be the best. This young man went to this master and asked for training. The master asked him to play something for him on the spot as a sort of brief audition.
The young man readied his instrument and began playing. It was a heartfelt piece and an old favorite of his, with happy moments and sad, fast sections and slow, broad and delicate. The master listened carefully throughout, and when the young man finished he paused briefly in reflection. The master said simply, "That was quite good, but you will never be a master of the violin. This is not the career for you."
The young man was heartbroken, but he thanked the master and went on his way. He went on to a fine career selling musical instruments, and he continued to play his violin with his friends. Many years later that same master came into his store looking for a new violin for his granddaughter. After finishing with business, the man -- who was no longer young anymore -- reintroduced himself to the master and reminded him of their past meeting. "Ah yes," said the master, "I thought I your face looked familiar. I recall your performance was quite heartfelt and technically excellent."
The man was confused. "But sir, you said that day that I would never be a master of the violin."
"Oh, I say that to all of my prospective students. It's the ones who have the confidence to try anyway who become truly great."
My dental hygienist was quiet for a bit. Thoughtful. After a time she told me a story of her own, this one quite true.
When my dental hygienist came to America from Germany, she spoke no English at all. After a few years of staying home and remaining unable to participate in society, she decided to take a some classes and get a job. After she had acquired a little proficiency in the language she decided to learn the trade of a dental hygienist. She was doing well in most of her classes, but partway into the training they had a special trainer come in a few days a week to teach them formal, professional English and its differences from colloquial English. She was concerned. She'd only just barely begun learning English at all, and with her broken and heavily-accented English she was worried that her lack of formal training in the language would cause her problems. The special trainer frowned and paused in reflection. He explained that formal, professional English is vital for effectively communicating with patients and with doctors. He explained that without fluency in English she may have a lot of trouble working as a dental hygienist. This may not be the right career for her.
She was heartbroken. She went to her usual instructor and told him about her concerns and what the language trainer had told her. Her usual instructor reassured her. She may need to work extra hard to strengthen her language skills, but she was capable of mastering the language, and she would be a wonderful dental hygienist when she did. This reassurance was exactly what she needed: she continued her studies, easily surpassed the rest of the language class even with her disadvantage. That was many years ago, and she has since grown into certainly the best dental hygienist that I've ever had prodding about in my mouth.
"Counselors," my hygienist explained to me, "should be very careful when talking to people seeking their opinions. Your violin master crushed that boy's spirit. He should have considered the effect his words would have."
She said something, I think, about the differences between a musical career and a dental career, but she also said something about the effect that simple opinions and concerns from those in positions of leadership can have on those who respect them.