Most music majors encounter little-fish-in-a-big-pond syndrome early in their freshman year of college - they're used to being the best person, or among the best people, in their school's music program, and have likely experienced that from elementary school all the way through graduating high school. I entered college having already been a little fish in the big pond throughout my high school career; I was always above average, but never one of the best singers in high school choir.
You'd think that being used to the idea of being good but not the best would have made my transition into a college music program easier, but it didn't. You see, I never quite felt like I fit in. I lacked many of the music experiences that most of my peers had had, some because I wasn't in my high school's top tier, others because I had gone the well-rounded route in high school rather than the all-music-all-the-time route that most of my peers had gone, meaning that I sometimes had to pass up music opportunities because of commitments to my other activities. Beyond my varied high school experience, I also didn't fit the music major mold, at least not at the college I attended. My college had one of the more elite music programs at least in the region (if not a greater area), and I appreciate the high-caliber education I received, but I didn't always ascribe to the same opinions of what "real music" was. As a double-major, I still didn't spend my life in the all-music-all-the-time world (and the one year that almost all of my classes were music ones, while academically rewarding, was one of the toughest social years of my life).
All of these things combined together meant that I left college with almost no self-confidence in my abilities as a musician or a music teacher. I've always loved music, but most of me has known since 11th grade that I wanted more than anything to be a music teacher. I graduated with a double-major and I hold dual licensure in music and math, but I've known for a while that my heart is in teaching music. Even so, confidence in my abilities as a musician and a music teacher have been a daily struggle for much of the last decade.
There have been people who told me that I'm a good singer, but it's hard to believe the ones who aren't immersed in the music world. I still have no clue what most of my college music professors thought of me, though academically I generally did well. I'm pretty convinced that my advisor was hoping that I'd land a math teaching job and not screw up music for the rest of the music world. My voice teacher always believed in me, but she was also a bit of a department outcast, so I still felt out of place. I didn't know until my senior year that my college choir director believed in me (which, strangely enough, I learned when his way of trying to help me when I was having a panic attack on the sidewalk of a church on tour was to tell me to imagine my first day in my own music classroom and how great it would be). I ended college with only two close music friends who have believed in me. In my first music teaching job last year, I had to work really hard to convince myself that it my two former elementary music teachers (now colleagues) believed in me for reasons beyond the fact that I had been their student. Until I got to interact with her yesterday, I was afraid of what the district music person would think of the fact that I did indeed land back in the district after my position was cut. And I'm still a little terrified to learn the reaction of my high school choir director upon learning that I'm now the choir teacher at one of the schools that feeds into her high school program (because to this day I have no clue what she thinks of me). Given the uncertain views that the musically-trained people around me had about my music abilities, it was hard to find confidence in myself.
It wasn't until about a year ago that I started to believe that I might have some advanced music skills (which I probably should have after earning a music degree). I joined a church choir, and discovered that my ability to quickly learn music was well above many other members. I was soon invited to join an additional, higher-level church choir and easily found my fit with them musically as well. Auditioning for and making it into the choir for my district's variety show was also a boost in confidence (though more as a performer in general after the number of compliments I got on how much I sparkled on stage - which was something I'd rarely if ever been told before).
Were it not for those boosts in confidence through the year, I don't know that I would have been as successful as I was when I was invited to audition for an elite choir formerly connected with the church I attended last year. In an audition where my musicianship was tested more than my individual vocal talent, I was nervous but confident enough to hold my own. (Ever try singing "The Star Spangled Banner" in minor by ear and then have to partway through make up a harmony part to it by ear? One of the most rewardingly-challenging things I've ever done as a singer.) And for the first time in a decade I auditioned for and made it into an elite vocal ensemble; I've never been more honored to be part of such a talented group of musicians.
I wish I had been able to hold on to my newfound confidence through the summer. I know part of it has been the instability of not having a job, and with each unsuccessful application and/or interview, I doubted myself more. The social anxiety side of me also has a tendency to ask the question "What if now that I'm here, everyone around me realizes that I don't belong and shouldn't have been allowed to come in the first place?" My shakiest moments as a musician this summer have been plagued by this question.
The choir I joined this summer has often brought that question to my mind. Despite the very welcoming members, I constantly wonder if I'm really good enough. I wonder if I'm blending in. I wonder if I'm learning quickly enough. As our concert approaches, I've had more than one panic attack about whether I'll be performance-ready in time (which, conveniently enough, generally happens when I've just pulled out my music to practice, halting any potential progress I could make). When I had a complete breakdown after a rough rehearsal last night (personally rough, the rest of the group sounded awesome) and proceeded to express my frustration with myself via Facebook (because that's what I do sometimes), I was surprised at the high level of affirmation and encouragement I got from some of the other ensemble members.
Taking my first-ever grad school class was no different. Taking the course as a non-degree student who hasn't been officially admitted to the graduate program meant that I came in feeling inferior in the first place. Being jobless with no prospects didn't do anything to help my confidence level either. Throw in my background of never feeling like I fit in and wasn't ever good enough during my undergrad music experience, and I was terrified before the two-week intensive course even started. As things got rolling with a high workload which lead to inadequate sleep (someday I'll learn how to undo this bad habit), I had a massive breakdown not just from feeling overwhelmed but because everyone around me seemed to be keeping up when I felt like I was drowning. Yet when I walked into the music building that morning and near-immediately burst into tears something happened that I didn't expect - I was surrounded by support rather than judgment by classmates and instructors alike. It was one of many surprising boosts in confidence for me that week. It caught me by surprise when one instructor saw the hard-working, successful me behind the quiet me. It caught me by surprise when, as I was freaking out about our final musicianship performance assessment (because my brain was mush and it felt like I couldn't hear anything anymore), my classmates pointed out my lack of confidence, and that it was completely unnecessary because they saw me as being good at what we were doing. It caught me by surprise when nearly all of my coursework met the high expectations that our instructors had set for us with very few adjustments to make throughout (given I worked really hard to get there - and will maybe focus more on adequate sleep than immediate perfection in the future - but at the end I realized just how well I had done). In two weeks time I went from questioning whether I belonged in a graduate level music program to believing that I could excel there when I'm ready to start my Master's degree.
Sometimes I look back at high school and those that I was in choir with. In my grade and those a year above and below me, there were a lot of people, mostly in that top tier of music people, who graduated planning to become music teachers. I'm one of the only ones I know of to actually graduate college with a music education degree and then become a music teacher (though it took me a few years to actually land a music job). If you went back to high school and told people that I would be one of the few to actually become a music teacher, I don't think they would have believed you (except my Speech class who, when we did an awards ceremony for our special occasion speeches, declared that 10 years from now I would be a choir teacher).
I've been the little fish in a big pond for a long time, so long that I barely remember what it was like to have the confidence of the big fish in the little pond (further clouded by the fact that I was unusually overly-confident for a junior high student). This, probably combined with the whole social anxiety disorder thing, means that, even though I've been determined to live in the big pond, it's been hard to believe that I actually belong there.
For the first time this summer, I have been surrounded by elite musicians and music teachers, and I have been met with affirmation. I've been surrounded by music people who see value in me in being another music person and who want me to be part of their group. It still catches me by surprise each time that my ability as a musician and a music teacher is affirmed, but I'm getting better at accepting the compliments and affirmations, trying to hold on to them each time my confidence starts to waver, striving each day to build that same belief inside myself.
