Stuck Between a Rock and a Hard Place

I'm writing this, not as a complaint, but as a plea.  If anyone has any advice, I would greatly appreciate it.

My children are talented.  In fact, every child that I have ever met is talented in some way.  That's the fun thing about meeting kids--discovering those hidden talents.

Some of the talents my children possess are very public--you guessed it...music.  Some aren't so public--kindness and generosity.

My kids are frequently judged by other children because of their musical talents.  Other kids see them as "snobs" because they play their instruments well and because they are willing to share those talents whenever asked.

My kids never play with arrogance.  They recognize that they are better at music than most kids their age, but they never, ever show it.  In fact, they are very generous with compliments towards other kids and their efforts with music.  I have raised them to appreciate anyone who tries to do anything with music--it's always a good thing.

My kids may have some natural talent with music, but honestly, they work really, really hard.  When Mark was auditioning for colleges, he practiced two hours a day.  Johannah now practices between two and three hours a day, and Glo is building up to an hour and a half.  And this isn't just playing through music--it's hard core, technical practicing.  They live and breathe music.

We must tread lightly at church.  Something that I have discovered is that other kids in our congregation feel very intimidated when my kids play or sing anything.  There is literally no other youth in our ward who can even compare to the level of my kids' playing.  However, we frequently pass up opportunities to play because we don't want to make anyone feel bad.  When the kids DO play, it's "dumbed down" music.  I don't mean that offensively, but it's the truth.  The music is usually based on hymns and it's easy.  We don't play anything classical or seriously difficult.

This evening, the bishop of our ward invited any youth to perform at his house.  We knew that there would be a lot of piano playing and singing involved.  Johannah and Glo both thought that they should play the pieces they are currently practicing--a Haydn violin concerto, and the Stamitz viola concerto.  It would require no extra practicing on their part, and it made sense to them.

I nixed that idea immediately.  They would need an accompanist (me), and each piece is several minutes long.  Too, I knew that their abilities wouldn't be appreciated.  I suggested they pull out a violin/viola duet book that we've had for a couple of years, work up two duets from that and play those.  Each duet was perhaps a minute long, and easy for them.  In fact, they had both of them learned within minutes, and the duets sounded fun and non-intimidating.  Again, we had "dumbed down" our selections so as not to make anyone feel bad.

As they left to head off to the bishop's house, I reminded Hannah to be super supportive of everyone performing.  In our home, this means lots of "good jobs" and recognizing that everyone is at a different skill level and appreciating anyone for trying.

When they came home, we had a debriefing of the night.  Yes, Johannah was very supportive, even to those people who really struggled.

What did my girls get?

Not one kind word from any of the youth.  Not one "good job".  Nothing.  In fact, in between the two duets (only a moment to switch music), one of the youth piped up and told Johannah that she had some notes out of tune, and Gloria was slouching.

This from a girl who has never taken a music lesson in her life.  This from a girl who said absolutely nothing to anyone else.  This from a girl who made sure to say it loud enough so that everyone could hear it, and she laughed while doing so.

I was at a loss for words.  And even now, two hours later, I'm still shaking about it.  All I could think to do was call Mark--I knew that he would at least lend a sympathetic ear.  When he heard the end of the story, it was just silent on the end of the phone line, and I knew that Mark knew exactly how I was feeling.  He asked me one question:  when will it ever end?

I honestly don't know what to do.  I don't know what to tell my kids.  I have told them to take the high road so many times that all I can do is wonder why other kids aren't being taught the same thing.

When I think of situations like these, I can only think of the story in the bible about casting pearls before swine.  My kids have worked hard to play like they do, and their abilities are precious to me and my soul.  Hearing that others only have nothing to say, or unkind words?  It strikes me at the heart.

If anyone has any advice, I would greatly appreciate hearing it.