Teaching: it’s for those who can
“Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.”
It’s an old adage that I used to think was funny, especially when combined with the added witticism, “and those who can’t teach, teach gym.”
But over time, I’ve come to see it for what it truly is: an arrogant boast..
The speaker is saying “Look at me. I work at a ‘real’ job, so I don’t have to resort to teaching.” Those people deem themselves “professionals” — compared to the “unprofessional” status of teachers. What’s worse, the phrase implies that by being a teacher, one has given up on their dreams, accepted their lot in life, and chosen a lesser pursuit. And, if that isn’t bad enough, those who can’t succeed at teaching are relegated to the lowest tier: teaching gym.
You’re probably beginning to see the absurdity of this thinking. But if not, consider where the world be without teaching.
After all, the moment the wheel was invented, someone had to show others how to use it. And throughout history (and even before!), teachers have shared essential knowledge — without which humans would never have advanced as a species. Because nearly every aspect of human life is built on teaching — to ensure that we can survive, thrive, and hopefully, enrich the quality of our lives.
Imagine sitting on a plane 33,000 feet in the air. I know I prefer that the pilot has been taught by someone who knows everything to know about flying. Ditto for the people that built the plane. In short, those professionals were taught by other professionals.
I’ve taught music in many parts of the world and here in America, mostly in New York City. In my experience, other places are more likely to treat teaching as a noble profession. And teachers are highly respected for their knowledge and dedication. In these cultures, students want to know what the teachers know, and quality teachers are eager to show them. And no one questions their value.
Teaching in the arts has a long tradition of deep connections between professionals, teachers and students. Quite often, they are all the same person. In fact, I’ve always considered myself to be all three. I started with a simple love of music as a child. I quickly became a student, then a professional, and eventually a teacher. But I never stopped loving music and learning about it, I’m still a professional, and I get great enjoyment from sharing my skills with others.
In my case, composition came to me naturally. I am an autodidact, you might say. That is, I primarily taught myself. But I was constantly asking other composers, “how do you do this,” “how does that work,” and the like. And even as a professional, I stayed a student and have always been learning. In fact, all professionals with true dedication to their craft do the same. Doctors, lawyers, engineers, chefs, musicians, painters, dancers, actors and even athletes (who may have taught gym at some point!).
Parenting is yet another ubiquitous form of teaching. Not just in humans but in many animals as well. From the moment we’re born, we need someone to protect us, feed us, and teach us how to survive. It’s the same for teaching at all levels. If the masters of composition hadn’t passed on their knowledge, music would have evolved very differently.
Being a professional and a teacher is not easy. I’ve often struggled internally with self-identity. And “jokes" like the one at the top of this article keep that struggle burning. But it’s good to know that at some point in their careers, most great composers were also professors. It’s an extensive list, but here’s just a few: Bach, Vivaldi, Haydn, Orff, Saint-Saens, Faure, Tchaikovsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, Nadia Boulanger, Schoenberg, Carlos Chavez, Copland, Hindemith, Stravinski, Walter Piston, William Schuman, Leonard Bernstein, etc., etc. And these were just those who taught formally. Countless others never taught at schools but had students in their studios. Today, when I consider my fellow teachers at NYU, I remember that every one, myself included, is a professional who teaches. In fact, that has been the case at every institution I’ve taught at throughout the world.
My number one rule as a teacher has always been, ”never crush anyone’s dream.” If a student wants to learn, I don’t care how much they know or don’t know. If their desire to learn is real, I am thrilled to teach them. I am honored that they came to me to learn what I know. And (to drop a compositional term), I am especially happy to do my small part in keeping the forward linear motion of music alive, thriving, and spreading future joy.
Rich Shemaria
September 21, 2025