"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

A thank you message to my arts teachers.

At some point in school, we're all asked the question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" For me, it was in World History with Roberta Thomas. In one of life’s funny full-circle moments, Mrs. Thomas wasn’t just a teacher, but the mother of Michael Tilson Thomas, the future legendary conductor who I’m now proud to call a friend. When it came my turn to answer the question, I confidently responded, “A forest ranger. An astronaut. Or a musician.”?

After taking a moment to consider, Mrs. Thomas looked at 13-year-old me and said, “Debbie, every job has pros and cons... but a musician? Well, that’s the best job in the world.”?

Mrs. Thomas taught history, not music, but she understood the value of a life rich in the arts — after all, her family were the founders of a Yiddish Theater in New York early in the 20th century — and an education that prioritized arts instruction. From that moment, she never failed to encourage my artistic exploration, something I learned to appreciate even more later when I went to work at the Los Angeles Philharmonic and collaborated with her brilliant son.??

As the national cultural center, part of our calling at The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts is to advocate for arts teachers and support the work they do to foster the next generation of not only artists, but leaders.

Studies show the value of the arts in education. Yet despite this, arts education programs in our schools and communities remain underfunded and undervalued. As a result, we risk sending today's students into a volatile world, unequipped with some of the most important skills needed to be successful.

That's why this month we're partnering with AMC Theatres and award-winning actress, singer, and dancer Ariana DeBose to share a message of thanks for arts educators nationwide.

After 40 years in arts administration, and working with thousands of artists, educators, and arts-lovers, I’m using this month to reflect on the teachers who gave me the skills I use every day in my profession.??

I had four influential arts teachers in my life—Harry Jarvis, Margie Glassman, Tibor Zelig, and Mehli Mehta. They all opened a part of the world that I didn’t know existed. Like pieces of a puzzle fitting together, lessons and opportunities from my mentors uniquely formed the picture of how I saw myself.?

The first piece of my puzzle I received from them was the importance of identity.?

Our sense of belonging and self is one of the most meaningful concepts we can develop in our formative years.?

Research shows that a strong sense of self contributes to a more fulfilled, successful life, and an education rich in the arts directly correlates to our ability to form a healthy self-identity and self-confidence.

Arts teachers have the unique ability to open our eyes in ways others can’t. There’s no right or wrong in art; creativity is valued, and exploration is encouraged. When I was invited into this creative world as a student, I learned that even at an early age, I had agency. I had a voice. I mattered.???

I had my first professional experience as a musician while still in middle school. Harry Jarvis, my orchestra teacher at Mulholland Jr. High School encouraged me to play in the Palisades Symphony Orchestra. He believed that I was not only capable of performing with the orchestra, but more importantly, that I was deserving of the opportunity. This instilled in me a sense of pride that I was able to carry with me through all aspects of my early life. Mr. Jarvis taught me that music wasn’t just something I could do as an extracurricular activity. It was someone I could be. I was Debbie Rutter. I was a student and a teenager. I was a musician. And I was so proud of that.??

The second lesson I learned was about the power of community.??

There is no part of art that is isolated. We are always connected to a larger artistic community.?

Tibor Zelig was my first true violin teacher – our weekly lessons included fascinating stories of ‘the old country’ and the traditions of classical music.? I was enthralled not only with the music, but with the history I was learning, passed down from teacher to student.

Later, I studied with Mehli Mehta (yes, the father of the extraordinary young music director of the LA Philharmonic, Zubin Mehta!), and learned how I, one violinist, contributed to a larger communal experience.??

Mehli Mehta was also the conductor of the American Youth Symphony, where I played in the second violin section. I remember struggling with one line of music, an inner voice while the first violins had the melody. In a moment of frustration, I wondered why it mattered. Our section was just the harmony, weaving in and out of the melody. If I wasn’t perfect at that part, if I maybe just went through the motions for only a few seconds…what difference would it really make???

“What if everybody in the orchestra did that, Debbie?” I was asked. “You came to study with me because you are skilled. Don’t let yourself down, but more importantly, don’t let your community down. The orchestra is relying on you to give your best, so that we can give our best.”?

Never again did I underestimate the value of my contribution to the whole. The group's success relied on me, and sometimes my success would rely on the group. At some point in life, we are all going to have to rely on community to get through.?

Before I was able to learn about the power of self, or the power of the community, I had to learn about the power of myself.

My third lesson was you get out of life what you put into it.???

My very first piano teacher was Margie Glassman, in Encino, CA. I started lessons at six, and like all young students I went through my phases of simply not wanting to practice. During one lesson, I was supposed to have learned a new etude but instead of practicing, I thought I could fake it - I was (and am) a good sight-reader. Mrs. Glassman saw right through my scheme, and for the next hour I practiced that etude while she stood over my shoulder.???

At the time, I resented Mrs. Glassman for making me work on something that seemed so rudimentary. Years later, when I was able to master the complex opening of Lalo’s "Symphonie espagnole" (a gorgeous work for violin solo and Orchestra), I said a silent thank you for that mortifying hour of practice.? Now, I hold myself to the same standard she instilled in me.??

Learning music, like life, is an exercise in discipline and commitment. We learn the satisfaction of working through a hard phrase but also the importance of promises and commitments, and the repercussions of showing up unprepared. Like the show, life must go on, and it is our responsibility to set ourselves up for success.??

On paper, they were my arts teachers. But in practice, they were my life teachers.

Harry Jarvis, Tibor Zelig, Margie Glassman and Mehli Mehta were my music teachers and mentors. But in reality they were so much more; they were my life teachers.

Art teachers—and teachers like Roberta Thomas who understand the value of arts to all areas of life—teach lessons that go far beyond the classroom, stage, or performance venue. They teach lessons that reach into the office, home, or boardroom—wherever life takes us. They form our identities, create our communities, and deserve our resounding thanks this month…and always.?

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