A 'Funny' Morning

     This morning (Wednesday) was quite a laugh! Actually, two things happened in quick succession while I was/am still recovering from the obligatory autumn teacher's flu. 

The first was a message from a potential - (very) interested - young adult student who had already come for her trial/taster lesson (to one of our teachers) before our term break a few weeks ago. We talked on the phone afterwards where she emphatically confirmed her wish to sign up for regular lessons with us sounding very enthusiastic throughout. I also wrote her during the break again, just to confirm in writing that we are expecting her today (Wednesday) to come in for the lesson. The dissonance struck while I finally sat down to drink my morning macchiato with honey (to soothe my throat and headache; but I like to take almost any hot drink with honey after all, anyways back to today...) when I heard the familiar glassy ping tone of the incoming message on the music school designated Iphone. After the first big gulp I casually checked the message which read (translated to English): " I have been waiting for a reply from you about my studies for a while and now I don't feel like signing up and coming to lessons anymore!"

Great start to the day! No worries, I always tell my teachers (and myself as well) that it's better not to take on students like this as they are going to make life harder the more time you spend with them (just like in any bad interpersonal relationship) - we had plenty of this in the past where people like her signed up, although the writing was on the wall that it was not going to work out, and then with a big dramatic exit, they all eventually ended up quitting.

The second giggle came after breakfast when I heard the familiar ringtone of said phone but with no identifiable number (private call). I picked up and recited my lines as is tradition: 'Hello, such and such music school, how may I help you?' The caller asked if I speak English (no duh...) to which I kindly replied again, 'of course, how may I be of assistance?' The caller asked if we have a teacher by the name of Amelia? Trying to conceal my concerns I replied, 'why yes, she works here.' To which the caller swiftly replied that she is a private student of hers, and our teacher was supposed to show up for the weekly lessons, but she has already missed a few. The caller has been trying to get a hold of her by phone or email to which Amelia is not replying. She knows this is a weird call but she just wants to find out if everything is okay with Amelia, or "did something happen to her perhaps?" I assured her that all is okay (after all, Amelia was teaching in our school just the day before), and I quickly fabricated a story to save Amelia's skin which pointed out that Amelia had been traveling during the term break and she just arrived back in time for this week's lessons so she must be busy, and I am sure she will be in contact soon. The call ended pleasantly for her. 

I was just wondering after this strange incident, why wasn't I, as director of this small, boutique private music school informed by my teacher of her other teaching obligations outside of this music school, which is clearly among her contractual duties? By the way, Amelia is a good teacher, loved by her students.

In the beginning (since 10 years now) up until Covid hit, I was fixated on the contract. It seemed like the ultimate way to maintain safety and stability and to solve all problems and concerns for everyone involved. How utterly delusional I was, right? It should have been clear and obvious after a few months of operation that it is worth as much as the paper it is printed on... Nobody cares about a contract, even if they do there is no way to enforce anything, it is literally a waste of time, lawyer fees, and ink. Maybe, just maybe if we would be located in the land of lawyers (good ol' USA) then it would be less unimportant, but here in Eastern Europe, forget about it! This is worthy of a completely new blog post, so I will leave it at that now.  

So, Amelia has a history of forgetting to show up/reply to important calls/emails, this was nothing new to me, and a smile appeared on my face during this phone call as I now understood that Amelia operates like this everywhere with everyone. The classic example of the artistic artist! My favourite incident was the one last year around this time of the year when Amelia forgot to show up on one of her teaching days and our other teacher, let's call her Nicoletta, was luckily present that day and had a few cancellations from her own students that afternoon, so by Godly intervention, we pulled off this substitution perfectly! Sometimes, you need luck to run something well. Otherwise, it would all end up Fawlty (pun for the older readers there).