1. Hope that your child has been consistently practicing for the past 10-15 years of their life. If they
haven't, give up now and run for the hills.
2. Find a great private teacher with even better connections. It's no joke when the colleges ask if you have any family members or friends who have attended their schools, and they ask for their names and years of graduation.
3. Be in one of two income levels: poor as dirt, or rich as Donald Trump. Otherwise, you're going to need all you can get from #2.
4. Hope that you have saved every program from every concert your child has ever played, because each school is going to ask for a complete list of every orchestral, ensemble and solo piece your child has ever played. Better yet, they might ask exactly if and when they performed it in public. Of course, you have been telling your child to keep a running Google Doc of all performances (for ease of uploading when needed). This advice has fallen on deaf ear in the same way that you told your child to wear a coat because it's going to snow....and they didn't. And now they have pneumonia.
5. Schedule lessons with each and every possible professor from each and every possible school your child is considering. The teacher will be their closest ally and support figure through the next four years, so you'd better find a good one. It's really helpful when the teacher can only meet at 7:34 a.m., on the fourth Thursday of every month, for just a mere 20 minutes. And you drove 12 hours, through the night, to get to the school for the lesson.
6. Learn to write like a teenager again. Because the lessons mentioned in #5 need to be scheduled in the fall, plan on sending emails from your child's email account, writing as if you are the kid. It doesn't hurt to throw in a misspelling or incorrect punctuation, so that it doesn't look too perfect. You will then need to check that email account daily to look for a response. Your child will soon get used to a complete loss of privacy of their email inbox and will be okay with it.
7. How are you at composing essays while driving? Each school will not only have an application to the school itself (usually requiring 1-2 essays), but there will be "supplemental" essays for the school of music (again 1-2 essays). Because your child is obviously well-motivated, goal-oriented, and intelligent, they are busy cramming every last possible bullet point into their senior year. The only time to write all these essays? While driving to the aforementioned lessons. Of course, they will also have make-up school work to finish because they are missing school for the lessons. One cannot be above dictating an essay in the car to the highly motivated, laptop-toting senior.
8. Prepare to go to your "happy place". For some reason, music schools like to show the parents and kids every performance venue they have. This hall, and that hall, and this rehearsal space, and that chamber rehearsal space. Never mind that your kid will spend a minimal amount of time in these places. Where do they spend the majority of their time over the four years? In the 5'x3' practice rooms that are covered in graffiti from 1969 and smell like old cheese.
9. Completely mask all feelings of stress before your child goes into a lesson. Yes, you will need to stop wringing your hands over the tuition cost that the admission counselor drops like a lost M&M. Yes, you will need to play Candy Crush Saga for a full hour, sitting on a piano bench, while your child warms up in the aforementioned cheesy practice room. Yes, you will flash a smile that conveys everything you want to convey to the teacher who takes all of two seconds to size you up as a parent before that teacher whisks your child into their studio....for that 20 minute "lesson".
10. You will completely ignore any worries that your child will not find a job once they are done with schooling. Just to make yourself feel better, you'll check out one of those Yahoo! news stories that lists the top five worst degrees to earn. You breathe a sigh of relief when "MUSIC" isn't listed as a possibility, and you count your blessings that your child doesn't want to be an architect.
haven't, give up now and run for the hills.
2. Find a great private teacher with even better connections. It's no joke when the colleges ask if you have any family members or friends who have attended their schools, and they ask for their names and years of graduation.3. Be in one of two income levels: poor as dirt, or rich as Donald Trump. Otherwise, you're going to need all you can get from #2.
4. Hope that you have saved every program from every concert your child has ever played, because each school is going to ask for a complete list of every orchestral, ensemble and solo piece your child has ever played. Better yet, they might ask exactly if and when they performed it in public. Of course, you have been telling your child to keep a running Google Doc of all performances (for ease of uploading when needed). This advice has fallen on deaf ear in the same way that you told your child to wear a coat because it's going to snow....and they didn't. And now they have pneumonia.
5. Schedule lessons with each and every possible professor from each and every possible school your child is considering. The teacher will be their closest ally and support figure through the next four years, so you'd better find a good one. It's really helpful when the teacher can only meet at 7:34 a.m., on the fourth Thursday of every month, for just a mere 20 minutes. And you drove 12 hours, through the night, to get to the school for the lesson.
6. Learn to write like a teenager again. Because the lessons mentioned in #5 need to be scheduled in the fall, plan on sending emails from your child's email account, writing as if you are the kid. It doesn't hurt to throw in a misspelling or incorrect punctuation, so that it doesn't look too perfect. You will then need to check that email account daily to look for a response. Your child will soon get used to a complete loss of privacy of their email inbox and will be okay with it.
7. How are you at composing essays while driving? Each school will not only have an application to the school itself (usually requiring 1-2 essays), but there will be "supplemental" essays for the school of music (again 1-2 essays). Because your child is obviously well-motivated, goal-oriented, and intelligent, they are busy cramming every last possible bullet point into their senior year. The only time to write all these essays? While driving to the aforementioned lessons. Of course, they will also have make-up school work to finish because they are missing school for the lessons. One cannot be above dictating an essay in the car to the highly motivated, laptop-toting senior.
8. Prepare to go to your "happy place". For some reason, music schools like to show the parents and kids every performance venue they have. This hall, and that hall, and this rehearsal space, and that chamber rehearsal space. Never mind that your kid will spend a minimal amount of time in these places. Where do they spend the majority of their time over the four years? In the 5'x3' practice rooms that are covered in graffiti from 1969 and smell like old cheese.
9. Completely mask all feelings of stress before your child goes into a lesson. Yes, you will need to stop wringing your hands over the tuition cost that the admission counselor drops like a lost M&M. Yes, you will need to play Candy Crush Saga for a full hour, sitting on a piano bench, while your child warms up in the aforementioned cheesy practice room. Yes, you will flash a smile that conveys everything you want to convey to the teacher who takes all of two seconds to size you up as a parent before that teacher whisks your child into their studio....for that 20 minute "lesson".
10. You will completely ignore any worries that your child will not find a job once they are done with schooling. Just to make yourself feel better, you'll check out one of those Yahoo! news stories that lists the top five worst degrees to earn. You breathe a sigh of relief when "MUSIC" isn't listed as a possibility, and you count your blessings that your child doesn't want to be an architect.
Oh, I just love it, especially number seven because I can see it in my head so clearly; I wish you both luck with the applications process!
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