“There are no bad choirs, only bad directors.”  I’ve heard this statement and said it myself on more than one occasion.  It’s also something I’ve said to conducting students.  In some ways, it rang true at the time.  As I’ve gone along in my career, however, my mind has been changed about lots of things.  I thought I would give this one a whirl and see if it still sticks.
 
I’ve heard some choirs that stirred my soul and others that made my soul want to go fetal position in a corner.  I previously just attributed the latter to a “bad” director.  Of course, I never said that to anyone.  It was just an internal dialogue.  I’ve been neglecting an important part of that scenario though – I HEARD them.  What does that mean, Jeff?  Well, in some way, shape, or form, I was given the opportunity to hear the choir and see the director lead in what amounts to a mere snapshot of their work.  Then, I passed judgment on the “goodness” (effectiveness) or “badness” (ineffectiveness) of their director.  What an asshole I’ve been.  I’m sticking my neck out here, but I suspect I’m not the only one. 
 
The thing that I (and perhaps others) have missed?  The choir and their director were brave enough to walk into that performance area and sing for other people.  They had been working on something and they wanted the world or at least that audience to hear.  Whether it was for a choral contest, a school concert, holiday caroling or whatever…they were there to sing.  Now, I’m not going to get into the semantics of what sounds good to me vs. what doesn’t here.  That’s not the point.  I’m also not someone who thinks my own poop doesn’t stink.  I’ve directed some questionable performances before, trust me.  I’ve struggled with impostor syndrome.  I’ve experienced the sound of the choir not matching the sound in my mind.  Other times, I thought my choir sounded great when maybe they didn’t. 
 
 Let me ask this.  What choir or director really goes on stage to intentionally perform poorly?  None that I’ve met.  
 
All of these random thoughts might seem diametrically opposed to a previous blog post I composed: Iron sharpens iron.  I don’t think they really are.  I still think healthy competition is good for choirs.  As directors, I still think we should all be striving towards a standard of excellence.  The epiphany I’ve had is that these so-called “bad” directors leading “poor” performances were striving for excellence.  I just wasn’t giving them benefit of the doubt.  Perhaps these directors just didn’t have all the tools necessary to make it happen.  Perhaps the choir was just having a bad day.  Perhaps their goal wasn’t pristine performance, but the win was that everyone actually stood on the risers without picking their noses. These directors were acting in good faith, with earnest effort towards the goal of everyone singing together on stage.  That’s a beautiful thing.  Day in, day out, they are doing their best. 
 
I have seen so many recent social media posts from choir directors struggling.  They are struggling with their numbers, with singers that have trouble matching pitch, irate parents, poor equipment, administrators that undervalue their work, repertoire choices, and so many other issues.  But…they are still leading people to sing!  To them (and all on whom I have previously passed judgment), know this:  YOU ARE A GOOD DIRECTOR.  I think I can rework the statement now:  “There are no bad choirs.  There are no bad directors.”  If you are acting in good faith, with earnest effort to help your singers improve, you are a good director.  If I can help you in your efforts in any way with no judgment (just love and ideas), it would be my pleasure.           

Seriously?  Is this what we are still battling?  I suppose my sentiment is the same for a myriad of other social issues, but I’m a choral director, so let’s just start there for now.

I was at a choral conference recently.  It was nearing the end of the conference and one of the female high school choral directors told me that football coaches at her school were telling boys that “only pu**ies join choir.”  Are we really still there?  The conversation with this high school choral director still has me on my heels and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.  I just needed to write down some thoughts to get through it.

Nevermind that this coach should have immediately been fired upon any inclination that this utterance emanated from his being towards an adolescent boy (I was told he was not – a slap on the wrist – “coaches” will be “coaches” kind of thing).  I realize that I live in Oklahoma.  I realize that football is part of the culture in Oklahoma.  I grew up in Texas – I get it.  I love the lessons that team sports teach.  I realize, however, that there remains a lot of ignorance out there.  Aside from harmless ignorance, I realize that you can’t fix stupid.  I also realize that I might be reacting to an isolated incident – a small minority not worth my attention.  However, I also realize that a small minority can have a large impact on a school or community (for the positive or negative).

I come to this from an adult perspective.  I’m confident enough in my skin to have someone call me anything they like.  I feel like I’m a little more complicated than any label.  I’ve been an artistic roller skater (think figure skating, but on quads and a wooden floor), I’ve been a male cheerleader, I’ve been a janitor, a blue-collar agricultural implements warehouse worker, a restaurant server, a law firm file clerk, an antiques and art dealer.  I am a retired mixed martial arts fighter and a brown belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.  I am a choral director and singer.  I am a husband and a father.  Say whatever you want about any aspect of my life and label me in whatever stereotype you see fit.  It doesn’t make it necessarily so and I can handle it.  Young singers, however, are not well-equipped to handle this kind of rhetoric to maturely ignore and go on.  That fact makes it a detriment to the future of my profession and passion.  That’s why I guess we still need to talk about it.  My knee-jerk reaction was to strategize on how I would respond to this coach and started preparing my arsenal of machismo, but I think we need something else to disrupt this mentality. 

I want to look at this as an opportunity.  I want to see it as a catalyst for future discussion.  I want to assess, redress, and shift the narrative.  Perhaps you’re doing some things already and I want to hear about them.  Comment on this blog entry or on social media.  Get the conversation started.  I don’t have a lot of solutions, but some things come to mind immediately:

1. Be sure you are taking the machine apart from time to time and let folks see how it works.  It is obvious that people don’t understand what we do day in and day out to keep boys connected to their humanity, their emotions, their artistry, their creativity, their intellect, their bodies, etc.  Even those that support the arts and choral singing sometimes miss the mark in this regard if they are not in the trenches.  The easiest way is incorporating something into your concerts.  Show what you do every day and feature just the guys (warm ups, sight-singing, voice building) in masterclass during the concert on stage for your audience. 
2. Even if it’s a little ugly, constantly invite others to your choral rehearsal room. 
3. As policy allows, post your daily activities to social media.  This is where young boys (and all young people) live now.  It can be the mundane.  Take a photo of your choir waiting on the bus for festival.  Post video of a piece in the beginning stages of rehearsal.  Demystify the choral rehearsal room for them. They want to feel a familiar social connection to the choir. 
4. If you teach young people to sing and there is a colleague that is open to new ideas, but perhaps doesn’t quite understand what you do, swap classrooms with them for a day.
5. Yes.  Go to sporting events and support all the boys – even the ones not in your choir.  Support the coaches too.  Offer to have a male voice from your choir sing the national anthem. 
6. I don’t care if you are a male teacher or a female teacher, invite other males to your classroom as guests (clinicians, observers, masterclass).  Invite them to lead and demonstrate their sensibilities.  Don’t misunderstand me here.  I’m not talking about modeling machismo.  Invite ALL KINDS of male role models to your choral rehearsal room: high voices, low voices, gay, straight, different ethnicities, cultures, religions, short, tall, the serious, the charismatic, and a thousand other misrepresented “labels.”  Bring them all and let them work with your group and give time for them to tell their story.

 
In my opinion, the more you are able to show that your choir is a place where boys that love football, ballet, video games, hockey, or whatever are welcomed and actively learning to sing cohesively, the better. “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” Only pu**ies join choir? No. Everyone - all kinds join choir and you can too. Encourage young men to be complicated individuals with intellect and empathy. You might not be able to change that coach’s mind, but we MUST not let his sentiment be carried by any young man into adulthood. The future of men in this profession depends on it.