How Much Time Do We Need To ... ?

The main problem in the present systems of education and health care, as I see it, is time.

Teachers and health practitioners simply do not have enough of it. Not enough time to truly get to know their students or patients, to understand them as individuals, to build a bond of trust, and consequently to find the method and approach that suits them best.

In a way, I see this as a form of quiet violence inflicted upon students and patients—the brutality of not having enough time for genuine human connection and involvement. Yet this connection is essential in the processes of learning, development, and healing. Without it, profound and lasting results are almost impossible to achieve.

For example, my own teaching practice is built very differently.

I work with only five students at any given time—one on each working day of the week.

Individual classes last at least one and a half hours, often longer. I deliberately do not schedule another student immediately afterward, which allows the session to expand naturally when needed. And it often does.

Once a month we also have a group session where all the students come together. They perform for each other, discuss ideas, share insights, offer suggestions, experiment, laugh, and simply enjoy the creative process together.

From time to time we also step outside the studio. We might go for walks, visit art exhibitions, attend concerts, or watch a film together. All of this becomes part of the learning process—not only about music or art, but about themselves. It helps them reflect on their place in the world as artists and deeply supports the development of their own artistic voice and identity.

My students can also reach out between sessions—by email, messenger, or phone—and they receive a timely response.

When I conduct workshops, the process becomes even more immersive. I spend nearly every moment of the day with the participants. We share the entire experience together: the artistic work, morning exercises, meals, walks, conversations, and reflections. This creates a deeper understanding of each individual and allows me to notice and address challenges that might otherwise remain unseen.

In this way we are offering young artists—and society as a whole—another possibility. A better one.

It is an approach that provides the space and tools for people to become more, to do more with their abilities, to ignite hidden talents and passions, and to find a deeper sense of purpose. It helps them grow into their artistic voice and their human potential.

This cannot be achieved by offering the bare minimum: limited time, limited approaches, limited capacity, and outdated methods.

Every young artist deserves the opportunity to search for, discover, and express what flows deeply within them. That process requires time—and a carefully crafted, individual approach from the teacher.

Only then can they radiate that authenticity back into society.

I was fortunate to have teachers and mentors who understood the importance of teaching in this way. This approach is not something radically new—although it is far from common practice. It is neither my invention nor my idea.

I simply had the privilege of growing as an artist under the guidance of extraordinary mentors, and I am continuing their legacy.

At the heart of it lies deep human connection and genuine involvement.

The best way. Perhaps the only way.

But how many professionals today can actually afford to work like this ?

How many truly want to ?

How many are equipped to do so ?

How many even recognize the importance of it ?

And even if they wished to, why are they often unable to ?

I know the answer, of course—and it saddens me.

Yet I remain hopeful.

Perhaps things will change when more students, patients, and individuals become aware of what they truly need—what is required for real, lasting transformation—and begin to refuse anything less.

A collective shift in awareness may eventually push outdated systems of education and health care to evolve, or even collapse, making space for something better to emerge. Something that serves everyone, not just the fortunate few.

I live for the day when that change arrives.

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*My students/mentorees are at least 16 years old or older. I do not teach children anymore. Therefore longer classes.

Related topics:

'PIANO MENTORING: Importance of Communication'

'Teaching MUSIC ...'

© Alternative Approach to Music: Inspiring - Healing - Empowering, Xenia Elizabeth Zilli