For most of our lives, we are encouraged to choose a path.
What do you want to be when you grow up? What are you going to study? What will your career be?
There is nothing wrong with having a clear direction, but after decades of working in music and education, I have learned that a career doesn't always follow one straight path. Mine certainly hasn't.
My professional journey has changed many times depending on what was happening in my life, my community, my business, and the music world around me. I have learned to embrace those changes rather than fight them.
There are times when teaching takes most of my attention. At other times, I may be doing more instrument repairs or piano tunings. Spring often brings arranging and writing projects, while later in the summer I may spend hours writing drill and preparing marching band programs. Then fall arrives, and marching band season brings rehearsals, clinics, consulting, and adjudication.
My work in worship music has its own rhythm as well. Christmas, Easter, and other important events require additional preparation and attention.
I don't really think of these as separate careers. They are different parts of the same career, and over the years, I have learned that some will naturally move to the front while others temporarily move to the back.
Learning to Follow the Need
My private teaching studio is a good example of how quickly things can change.
I teach a wide variety of instruments, and the makeup of my studio has never stayed exactly the same. Sometimes I have a large number of band and orchestra students. Other times, piano, drums, guitar, and voice make up a much larger percentage.
The ages of my students change, too. There have been times when I taught 10 or 20 adults and other periods when I had only a few. Sometimes I'm working primarily with beginning musicians, while other students come to me with years of experience.
I've learned not to assume that what people needed from me five years ago—or even last year—is necessarily what they need today.
Online learning was another change that opened new possibilities. Once teaching online became a regular part of what I offered, I began thinking more about musicians who weren't necessarily looking for a traditional instrument lesson.
An experienced performer might want to learn arranging or composition. Someone else might want to strengthen their music theory or aural skills. A musician may want to understand live sound, recording, or another area they haven't had the opportunity to study.
Those are still music lessons. They just look different.
Being willing to expand what I teach has allowed me to work with musicians at different stages of their lives rather than defining a lesson as one student learning one instrument in one room.
Sometimes You Have to Shift Your Focus
Being flexible doesn't mean trying to do everything at once. I learned that lesson again recently when I stepped in as interim director of bands at Sullivan Middle and High School.
For that period of my life, the school needed to become one of my main priorities. I continued teaching my private students in person and online, but piano tuning, instrument repair, writing projects, and some of my other school services had to take a back seat.
I knew those parts of my business would still be there later. The students and program in front of me needed my attention then.
When that assignment was completed, I was able to shift again. Repairs returned. Piano tuning returned. Writing and other projects could receive more of my attention.
That's one of the realities of operating Chris K Music on my own. There isn't a repair department working while I'm teaching. There isn't someone else writing music while I'm working with a school. I don't have separate departments for scheduling, marketing, customer service, or planning.
It's me.
Over the years, that has forced me to become better at recognizing what needs my attention now and what can wait.
Adaptability Became Part of My Career
When I was younger, I probably wouldn't have listed adaptability as a professional skill.
I would have talked about teaching, performing, arranging, composing, repairing instruments, or leading ensembles. Those were skills I could easily identify.
Today, adaptability would be near the top of the list.
Music is constantly changing. So is education. Technology changes the way we teach, communicate, perform, record, market, and run businesses. Students change. Communities change. The opportunities available to musicians change.
I've found that fighting every change doesn't accomplish very much.
At the same time, adapting doesn't mean chasing every trend that comes along. For me, it means paying attention. What do my students need? What does my community need? What skills do I already have that could help? What don't I know yet that I need to learn?
Those questions have taken me in directions I couldn't have predicted when I first started teaching and performing.
One Skill Often Leads to Another
Looking back, I can see how much the different parts of my career have influenced each other.
Teaching has made me a better arranger and communicator. Performing has made me a better teacher. Working with marching bands has changed the way I observe, listen, and give feedback. Learning instrument repair gave me another way to serve students, families, and school music programs.
Worship leadership has challenged me in different ways as a musician and leader. Running a business has required me to learn things that have very little to do with playing an instrument but have become essential to making a career in music work.
One skill often leads to another.
That's something I try to communicate to younger musicians. You don't have to abandon one skill simply because you're developing another. Sometimes the new skill makes everything you already know more valuable.
There is certainly value in specialization. We need people who dedicate themselves deeply to one discipline. But that doesn't mean everyone has to build a career the same way.
For some of us, the path branches.
Still a Student
After all these years, my professional journey is still changing.
I don't know exactly what combination of teaching, performing, arranging, writing, repairing, adjudicating, worship leadership, technology, and other opportunities will define the next ten years.
I'm actually okay with not knowing.
If my career has taught me anything, it's that something will change again. My students will change. Music will change. Education will change. Technology will change. My community will have different needs, and my own life will enter different seasons.
The experience I've already gained doesn't disappear when that happens. I get to carry it with me into whatever comes next.
I am a music educator, musician, business owner, writer, arranger, adjudicator, worship leader, and more. But underneath all of those titles is probably the description that has allowed me to continue doing all of them:
I am a student for life.
Maybe that's the one path I chose after all.
