Rachel Taylor Geier

Greetings and welcome to a brand new, yet super belated, Flute Friday/Monday.

It’s been a while. I know. I have been dealing with a lot behind the scenes lately. Overwhelmed is an understatement. Depressed is not far off. My health has been garbage and my attitude has been worse. Today, however, I have been trying to connect back to the things that make me the infamous Dr. G you all know and love (or at least mildly dig). And that includes writing this blog. Nothing helps me find my way back to me than a blank word document, a soap box to hop on, and the time and space to say what is on my mind, unfiltered.

Today, you get Dr. G unfiltered.

Taylor Swift’s new album, The Tortured Poets Department, was released late last week. A two-part collection of 31 songs, Taylor lays out the deeper, darker parts of her soul, exposing the scars that others gave her on her way to the top that aren’t bejeweled but rather coated in untapped resentment. I found this particularly relatable given that rest of my week was filled with energy vampires in all areas of my life (work, more work, personal, etc.) coming out of the woodwork offering empty sentiments such as “I’m sorry you feel that way,” to address the unsolicited ugliness they’ve brought into my world.

Here’s the thing – I spend a lot of time trying to make sure others are happy, healthy, heard, and supported. When others treat me badly or talk down to me, I absorb it, do my best to pick myself up by my bootstraps, and keep going.

Absorbing the bad behavior of others, however, tears away slowly at the soul, eventually inviting in harmful false self beliefs such as “I’m just not good enough,” or “I’ll never make it. I need to give up,” or “Everything I do/play is wrong,” or “I’ll never make first chair,” etc. (the list of negative self-talk is very long).

Today, inspired by Taylor Swift’s honesty, I’m choosing to expose some of this ugliness and the lessons I’ve had to learn along the way as a flutist.

Today you get to see some of my scars. And I hope they transform your own into something beautiful, or at least less painful.

I also want to call out unacceptable behaviors we face as flutists and musicians. If I name it here, perhaps others may stand up against it when it shows up in their life.

1. In 7th grade I was Band-bullied by the popular kids. Our school had two sections of 7th grade band class. We rehearsed separately but performed concerts together as a large group. I sat first chair in my section (and worked darn tootin hard to get there, playing on my very old Bundy model flute that my parents purchased for $100 at a pawn shop). The band director assigned me to play a very important solo on a rendition of Greensleeves for our regional competition and subsequent concert. The popular kids in the other band section complained to the band director, demanding there be a contest for the solo because it was not fair that I was given the part as I was just a “nerd who has no life.” Of course, this conversation was had both in front of the entire band and without me present to defend myself. So we had the audition….and I still won. THE LESSON: Haters gonna hate. Sometimes the louder the voices of the haters, the more you are actually crushing it. It is difficult to remember this when you are young and awkward.  It is during these times that we lean on our friends, family, and those around us that actually believe in and support us no matter what.
2. In 8th grade, my flute teacher and band director agreed I could skip 8th grade band class and walk over to the high school (which was right next to the middle school) to play in the top high school band, provided of course I played last chair and did not compete against the high schoolers. This would give me exposure to more challenging repertoire and the chance work with the more experienced top high school flute students. It was a great idea….until it wasn’t. I was not welcomed into the high school band with open arms. At that time, the flute game in high school was fierce! As in flutists waiting outside of other flutist’s practice rooms waiting for them to make mistakes. I was ostracized, often ignored during band trips and bullied by the older kids who didn’t understand why I was there. THE LESSON: Ideas may look good on paper, but the reality may look and feel very different. Middle school is a difficult time. Although this experience made me a bit more resilient, it was no doubt difficult to navigate. Be kind to middle schoolers when pushing them out of their comfort zone. Check in with them and make it safe for them to say, “Thanks but can we try something else?”
3. I lettered in Band by the end of Freshmen year in high school. In reality, I lettered in Band even before I got to high school but the director said it wasn’t fair to give me a letter early (I get this…sorta….if I earned it then maybe an exception could have been made but that would be asking a lot and setting a precedent..). As soon as I could during my sophomore year, I proudly sported my letterman’s jacket at school, adorned with the medals I had earned in the previous year. Sitting innocently in my Geometry class one day, a snotty girl and her posse of other snotty girls asked me condescendingly, “What did YOU letter in?” The letter surrounded by music notes should have been her first and only clue, but I played along. I said, “Band” and the symphony of giggles began. They were making fun of me. THE LESSON: Did I mention haters gonna hate? I made the mistake of letting them make me feel bad about something I really cared about. Something that made me different from every other kid that roamed the hallways. Something that made me special, whether the popular kids approved or not. I left my jacket in my locker during that class from that moment onward and I regret it. I should have added more to it each week!
4. I saved taking the dreaded required Speech class for my Senior year in high school. As a natural introvert, Speech was not my forte and I knew it. There was a group of kids who had crowned themselves high school royalty in this class that took it upon themselves to laugh at anybody they felt was “nerdy” than them (which was a least half the class) as soon as their speeches began. Well, you can probably tell where this story is going.. I gave a speech about how to put a flute together and achieve a sound on the head joint against a background of snickering and mocking from The Crowd. Did the teacher intervene? Of course not – She just let it happen as if it were normal. THE LESSON: Again, haters gonna hate. Also, karma is a thing. I now get paid an hourly rate to give the same lecture, tweaked to fit the student’s needs and learning style. I think I came out ahead.
5. I could write multiple posts about college, but there are a couple of events that have stuck with me even a couple of decades later. One was my exclusion from the university orchestra’s winter tour not only once but TWICE during my four years in the ensemble. I made my way into the orchestra after performing two auditions during my freshmen year. When the director announced the tour early that year, I was looking forward to traveling somewhere fun overseas for the first time in my young life. The director pulled me aside before one of our rehearsals to explain to me that I wouldn’t be going because they could only take two flutists and I didn’t make the cut. Ouch. That stung. But it was a reasonable explanation. So, I worked really hard for the next two years when the orchestra was scheduled to go on tour again. I started my junior year excited that this would finally be my year! I was second chair so even if the director could only take two flutists again this year, one of them would be me! I was in the ensemble longer than the third chair and possessed a higher chair position. Enter again the awkward, unfair conversation where the director would tell me that he was taking the first chair and the third chair (on piccolo) and again I was not invited on tour for reasons to this day I still do not know. THE LESSON: Sometimes hard work doesn’t matter. You can’t control others and the people in positions of authority aren’t always right. Also, going on tour was not my ticket to a better life. I still went to grad school. I still got my DMA. I still teach, publish, and perform as a professional flutist. I also have made my way to Europe on my own terms. Not going on the orchestra tour did not make or break me.
6. Grad school was not a walk in the park but I did feel a bit more adult and resilient. Sporting a 3.92 GPA, I was wrapping up all of the pre-dissertation requirements while also completing a secondary emphasis in Musicology. One of my last Musicology courses was particularly difficult but I managed to walk away with a decent grade. The final class was held at a nearby bar and grill. The course instructor and I were seated at a small table with a couple of other students. We were doing our best to chit chat about non-music subjects (we were literally all burnt out from the end of the semester), and the conversation turned towards television shows. I mentioned a show I was watching at the time. The instructor turned to me and said, “You are so pretty but God you’re dumb!” THE LESSON: Sometimes it doesn’t matter what grades you get or how hard you work, you can’t win everyone over. Someone will always have some hate to hand out about something or the other. Don’t let them bring you down! Also, correction: I am not dumb. Dumb is telling your “A” students that they are dumb. 
7. Adult life is not free from difficulty. I think the yuckiest story I have encountered was a conversation that should never have happened. I won a local audition for an orchestral seat. When offered the position, however, my title was indicated as “interim.” The audition was for the full position. The conductor pulled me aside after the first rehearsal to explain that he couldn’t give me the full title because he did not want the orchestra to think we were having an inappropriate relationship. THE LESSON: This is sexual harassment and should never be accepted and/or tolerated. We are seeing stories in the news even today about similar closed door conversations where others have allowed unacceptable behavior to continue in order keep their playing positions secure. It is never worth it! I have left this group and will not be going back. 
8. Although not the most egregious thing on this list, I once volunteered to perform a solo work in the absense of a sick ensemble player for a concert. This concert was a pre-cursor to a much larger performance of the same work. I crushed the solo at the concert (yay) and hoped that it was good enough to perform at the larger performance if the original player was still unable to perform. The solo was instead unceremoniously taken out of my hands and given to a guest performer without rhyme, reason, or explanation. THE LESSON: If you are a people pleaser, sometimes your help is taken for granted. Also, just because your playing isn’t one person’s cup of tea, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t still a darn good player. Find another group where your playing is truly valued and where collaboration comes easily. Sometimes the Universe uses these circumstances to nudge us in a different direction.
9. And finally, someone important in my life once told me I would never “make it” as a musician. THE LESSON: Watch me.

This is not a double album-worthy list but just a sample of the grey moments in my career that turned into valuable lessons for the future. And now they are also valuable lessons for my readers. If I could walk next to the younger version of myself during these times, I would tell her that haters gonna hate and just keep going. The good times will outshine the not-so-great ones. The lessons learned here will last well into the future.

Do you resonate with any of these stories? Do you have your own scars from the past? What have they taught you? How did they shape the flutist you are today? Please comment below.

Happy fluting!

-Dr. G.