The Joy of Teaching Is Music to His Ears

The Joy of Teaching Is Music to His Ears

By Peyton Tochterman

Peyton Tochterman strummed his way around the world.

“General Washington used drums in war to not only boost morale but also to communicate with his troops,” I told my Hill School 7th grade U.S. History class. Attempting to add a little drama, I added, “Like Levon Helm communicating with the world through his drum kit.”

“Mr. Tochterman,” a student began, confusion in her eyes. “I know Washington, but who in the world is Lebron Elm?”

Levon Helm is one of my heroes. He was the drummer for The Band and a member of the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame, and I had the profound pleasure to open for him one night at The Paramount Theater in Charlottesville.

This was years before I became a teacher at Hill and was a highlight of my music career as a singer-songwriter and guitar player. That evening, Helm stopped me in the staircase on his way onstage, humbly introduced himself, and said, “That was one of the finer sets of music I have heard in a while.”

In that brief moment, Levon Helm called me to adventure and pulled me across some threshold so I would journey around the world playing music and connecting with people of every walk of life, all the while searching for high achievement through devotion to my craft.

I played 37 states, saw much of Europe and China, and served as a “Cultural Ambassador” in Afghanistan. I played at festivals, church basements, backyard Bar Mitzvahs, radio and television shows, coffee shops, schools, a nursing home or two, and of course, 1,000-seat theaters with some of my musical heroes. None of that would have happened but for The Hill School here in my hometown.

Don Carter was my music teacher. After he left Hill, he sang at the National Opera in Washington and then, following his marriage to a career diplomat, in opera houses worldwide. As a child, Don instilled in me a devotion to my chosen craft and a drive for constant improvement.

He knew I showed some raw musical talent. I could read music, sing in tune, and display a general understanding of polyrhythms. My first “gig” ever was playing drums on Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic” in Hill’s talent show with Mr. Carter and a host of other musicians.

My parents both worked in Vienna, Virginia, so they arranged for the second grade teacher, the remarkable Linda Schwartz, to pick me up every morning on her way to school from Leesburg. She arrived an hour before school to prep for the day, so I arrived an hour early as well, primed in the car by listening to James Taylor and other musicians.

When Mr. Carter found out I was arriving early, he asked if I wanted to learn a few songs before school started. He taught me CSNY, The Grateful Dead, The Beatles, James Taylor, and more. Sometimes we just talked about music, or life, or baseball, another passion. We met for two mornings a week over the next two years, never asking for anything in return. He did what great teachers do: he saw a kid with an interest, and he harnessed that interest, cultivated a relationship, and changed my life for the better, forever.

Last year, when I was offered the opportunity to teach at Hill, my wife, Dornin (also a Hill alum) and children Alma Grace and Judd came back to Middleburg. I wanted to become the kind of mentor to my students as Mr. Carter was for me.

From him, I learned the best way to teach is to avoid getting lost in technical details of the discipline at hand. Instead, it’s crucial to build relationships and be a mentor who empowers students to responsibly move forward into the world. Recently, i witnessed a young girl understanding, for the first time, a musical approach to a song she was working on, and seeing the light go off in her head. Amazing! Three hours later, I saw it happen again to a 73-year-old student learning how to play guitar; that light in his eye looked the same as hers. We never stop learning, and I love to teach. Now, I hope to provide the same inspiration, the same dedication, and the same care once afforded to me at Hill. Some day, I can only hope that one of my students will remember me as a hero, as well. After teaching at Hill last year, through what veteran teachers around the country have called the toughest of their careers because of the pandemic, I find myself surrounded by new heroes, a team of dedicated teachers and administrators who show up every day with a smile the Covid masks can’t hide.

These days, I often look at my colleagues in awe of how gracefully they go about their business of teaching all these young minds. I came home hoping to be the next Don Carter, to profoundly change young people’s lives for the better. I’m going to have to get in line.

At the Kabul Airport on a concert gig in Afghanistan.

At the Kabul Airport on a concert gig in Afghanistan.