I can’t believe how incredibly nervous I am right now. In about an hour, I will be starting the first rehearsal of my school’s jazz band. I’m doing my best to remind myself how raw these kids are and how I still have the feeling of jazz in my gut and feet, even though I’m desperately out of practice. I’m just nervous as hell, and that feeling won’t go away until I’ve done this more, this being the primary teacher for a group of students. I still remember how nervous I was as a young music student and now know how I feel these days that getting up and performing is no big deal.
What makes these nerves a little tougher is that although I love jazz and love trying to play, I always feel as though I’m just trying. Maybe I hold it in too high of regard and myself to too high of standards, but my sense of self worth in this field is somewhat lacking. Okay, greatly lacking. Regularly I find myself wishing I had just one more year back at Stanislaus to learn more jazz and become more fluent in its expression.
Oh well. I’m here, and I’ll be fine. I know it. People have most certainly survived through worse. I’ll probably duck downstairs a little early to prep myself a bit, but I’m somewhat discouraged toward doing so because of a rather tiresome substitute who was the former band director at this school. I pity the kids sitting through his rehearsals right now, because he has a tendency to talk a lot with the few kids that are related to his former students. Those poor kids get so bored, especially the ones coming in there, dying to play.
Wish me luck, it’s one of the few things I believe in this world~