As a violin teacher and chamber music coach, I had been working at five locations for two or three years and it was starting to take a toll. Between the long drives, the disparate calendars, and the large number of students, I didn’t feel able to give my students the attention they deserve. I was frequently tired and haggard, unable to remember what a particular student had been working on with me, forgetting to follow through on the commitments I made even to send a quick text or order a piece of equipment.

The mother of one of my students asked me whether I liked working this hard. This same mother a few years earlier had remarked on my joy and expertise. Now I could feel her taking in my pale face and the dark circles under my eyes. I realized this was the third week in a row I had forgotten to bring a new shoulder rest for her daughter to try.

I explained that my husband hadn’t gotten a raise in 9 years. Our son was in college and our daughter was in dance and piano. We required the consistency of my teaching income during the day. I loved rehearsing and performing (another several regular jobs plus pickup gigs) and that money was useful for discretionary expenses. All my colleagues are tired. It wasn’t really a choice.

I was unwilling to return the life of our first years in Louisiana, when we had so little money I tried to harvest bamboo to eat from our backyard. But the seed had been planted. Maybe there was another way!

When COVID hit, many of my violin students could no longer afford lessons, so I took on a few piano students. As the economy adjusted to the pandemic, my violin students returned. Meanwhile, more and more new students came to me—for both piano and violin.

One day I got yet another email requesting piano lessons, and something in me snapped. I can’t keep up with all these students! I love teaching piano, but my real joy is teaching violin. Something needs to change…maybe a lot of things!
It was clear what needed to happen. I would leave the schools where I was employed and only work for myself. This would simplify my teaching to two locations with one schedule. I would also hire someone else to take my sweet piano students.

This decision had been brewing for a while, and I made it on my own, then and there. After some calculations, it became clear that the money would work. This was such a relief, I didn’t even want to see another way.

I went in the next room and announced it to my husband. He looked at me with both trust and concern. We had been watching each other struggle for over 15 years, and he wanted better for both of us. If I had found a way out, he wanted me to follow it. He knew I wouldn’t make this decision without having worked out the numbers. I had his support.

Even though I let go 1/3 of my income I immediately felt a massive weight lift off my shoulders. I gave notice at the schools. I applied for an LLC and advertised for a piano teacher.

I got a grand total of one applicant. And she was perfect! My piano students had a seamless transition, saying she taught just like me. Best of all, I could make sure my former students continued to thrive. I felt even more free—like I had wings.
But now there were two of us teaching—a music school! I started researching business strategy. A smart, capable person like me should be able to put all the pieces in place. But there were a lot of pieces, and they seemed to be always changing shape.

I found lots of contrasting advice: for-profit vs. non-profit, employees vs. independent contractors, specializing vs. broad appeal vs. combining the two, with a shake and a side of fries. I was sorting it out, but my head was swimming and I decided not to go it alone.