Professor Miller?

I’ve accepted a job teaching songwriting at The New School (and I’m terrified)

Hello. You’ve reached Time & Temperature.

When I dropped out of Sarah Lawrence College after one semester, I could never have imagined that someday I would be called “Professor Miller.“ But as of next month that’s just what I’ll be, a freaking professor. And if you don’t think that I’m going to demand that my students at Manhattan’s The New School address me by that noble title you’re out of your mind.

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Is anyone here old enough to remember the 1973 film The Paper Chase? I intend to be as terrifying as John Houseman, whose depiction of Contracts Law Professor Charles W. Kingsfield, Jr. nabbed him the Best Supporting Actor Oscar. Because songwriting is basically the same as Contracts Law, right?

I’m thrilled to teach Songwriting at The New School. I can’t wait to hear the songs these students come up with. Back in January I conducted some workshops at Arizona State University’s magnificent Popular Music Program and loved interacting with the young people who aspire to do this weird job, bringing songs into the world. And this fall I’m going to be in Manhattan every week with students of my own, in a classroom of my own, following a syllabus that I am even now endeavoring to assemble. Apparently you can’t just wing it.

What if they hate me? I mean, it would only be fitting — I was a terrible student when I didn’t see eye to eye with a teacher. I battled endlessly (for my single semester) with Linsey Abrams, my Creative Writing professor at Sarah Lawrence, over whether or not a story’s protagonist must undergo an epiphany at the story’s end. At the time I was in the throes of a Raymond Carver obsession, and believed in the validity, maybe even superiority, of stories in which NOBODY CHANGED AT ALL AND NOTHING HAPPENED. I mean, I see now that she was probably more correct than I was, but oh my god all those epiphanies in my classmates’ stories were driving me bananas.

Another fear with which I’m wrestling is that I’m not gonna know any of the music these New School students reference. I’m hopelessly old and out of touch. I’m 53 years old, six weeks away from 54, and at this point I’m wishing my hair would hurry up and turn grey so people would stop expecting me to be au courant. I suppose I could research today’s popular music, but to be honest, The New School isn’t paying me enough to do something so unpleasant. I’ll let the students school me. That’s what my own kids do after all.

Here’s another terrifying conundrum: How am I supposed to grade? Will any of the students do something so heinous as to deserve a bad grade? In a songwriting class? Oh yeah, and then there’s a thing where the students rate me once the semester is done, like a Yelp review of my professorial abilities. What the hell am I getting myself into?

But it’s gonna be great! How could it not be? I’m going to get paid to think and talk about the vocation to which I’ve devoted my life, songwriting. I love it and believe it to be magic. If I can convey even a fraction of my own artistic passion to these kids, I’ll be in hog heaven, and the world will have fourteen more songwriters.

Or maybe I’ll go full Paper Chase on them.

Regardless, I’m sure I am about to learn a great deal. I might even experience, heaven forbid, an epiphany. I’ll keep you posted.

yrs,

Rhett

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