06/24/2022
I've been thinking a lot lately, over the pandemic really, about my philosophy of teaching and where that comes from. Whether to share that personal info or not, and I've come to the conclusion that because it so clearly defines my approach to pedagogy, I will share. So here goes!
I was always the kind of singer that didn't have to work particularly hard. Singing was a natural extension of my being and it was always really easy. I was also a very serious piano player and choral singer so reading music, learning music and musicality was second nature.
In my first year of University I had a car accident. It was pretty bad. The car went into a slide on a snow covered road, skidded into the ditch, hit the end of the ditch, jumped up and slid to the other side of the intersection (on its side) and finally stopped. Feet away from a gas pipe. I smacked my knees on the steering wheel, the side of my face on the driver's side window and generally got thrown about pretty badly. I was taken to hospital and diagnosed with whiplash and jaw bruising. I went back to school a few weeks later, sore, tired and suffering from PTSD. I had to manage my studies as well as 4-5 appointments a week. I didn't realize until the semester was over how badly off I really was. I had a constant video of the accident playing in my mind over and over and over. I honestly don't remember anything from my second semester of first year.
Thankfully, I was able to be treated with EMDR for the PTSD and CBT as well which helped me move past this trauma.
For the next couple of years things were 'ok'. I did my best given that I was still much more stiff and less mobile than I had been prior to the accident. I learned lots, worked hard and had fun! Then, in the fall of my fourth year, my mom, who was suffering from Lymphocytic Leukaemia fell down the stairs in Holland at my cousin's wedding. She was admitted to hospital with an emergency splenectomy and was very very ill. We spoke on the phone every day but it was brutal being away. To make matters worse, I had to take care of her business as my Dad decided to travel to Holland to be with her. So I was on a farm with 14 dogs, feeding, walking and generally caring for them, driving to Toronto every day for class and trying as best I could to continue my studies and push the terrible situation my mom was in to one side. Somehow I managed. Somehow. My mom and dad came back from Holland in December and things returned to 'normal'. I put that in quotations because it was clear to us all at this point that my mom was in her last stage of life.
I worked so hard that semester on my repertoire, technique and also developing some very strong and useful mental coping strategies. I was able to compartmentalize my grief away from my work. It took a huge amount of effort but I did it and successfully finished my 4th year performance recital.
My mother died that summer. I spent as much time as I could with her, hanging out, telling silly stories, sharing much more than is really normal for a mother and daughter to share but it was magical and so special.
That September I went to Wilfrid Laurier for their Opera Diploma program. I knew it would be hard given the grieving that I was doing but I also knew I wanted to do it with all my heart and soul. It was hard but wonderful!
But, once again, things got rough. On my way to a dress rehearsal for the Opera in which I was a lead role, we had a car accident. We were going very slowly but there was black ice and we ended up in the ditch. It wasn't that scary but because of the way I was sitting my pelvis was put completely out of alignment. (Twisted and lifted on one side). The show must go on! So, I performed 3 performances in a ridiculous Baroque gown that had a corset, paniers and a giant head dress. I went to the closing dinner and I could feel my body seizing up- it was as if the adrenaline from the accident and performances finally left my body and what was left was a giant ball of tension and pain. I went home and became bed ridden. I was unable to walk, sit or even bend at the hips at all. I was seen by numerous specialists who helped me greatly but the healing process was slow and very long, and it left me with chronic hip pain. I knew that I was too young to live with chronic pain (and too stubborn) and so I stretched every day (often with tears in my eyes) and did very careful yoga to gain mobility and heal. After 5 years, I became pain free!! Hurray! That doesn't mean I don't still get pain. I do. My hip flares up, my neck is a bit of a mess, my jaw is really bad some times and I have generalized stiffness and aches. But, NOT EVERY DAY!
Why I am telling the you this? Well, do you remember how I said singing was easy for me? It really really wasn't after my grief and accidents. I had to become so acutely aware of my body and micro adjustments. I was that nosy patient who would ask what my physio and osteo were doing and why and then go home and do more research on my own. I took notes on how I felt after each session, I paid close attention to everything I was doing and began to think of it in physiological terms. I was a sponge. And, it ignited a passion for sharing the amazing healing benefits of singing in me.
Every person I see is unique. We all have our own stories to tell and those stories can be celebrated through music and patient, attentive listening. I see each student, I hear each student and I cherish each student.
