Pricing My Self Worth

With skyrocketing gas prices and record inflation in the U.S. (the highest annual inflation rate since January 1982!), I recently realized I couldn’t put off raising my lesson prices anymore.

I have always been reluctant to raise my lesson prices. Nobody wants to tell their clients that the same service they’ve been receiving for years is suddenly going to cost a lot more; it’s just not a pleasant conversation for anybody! As I set about to reprice myself, I realized that the last time I had adjusted lesson prices was in 2016.

As I started calculating how much to increase my prices, I did some research and found out that the cumulative rate of inflation since 2016 is 18.2%.

EIGHTEEN. POINT. TWO. PERCENT.

Instead of giving myself a raise each year, I’ve effectively given myself a pay cut—leaving behind almost 1/5 more money that I could have been making. And even knowing that, along with the ridiculous economic situation unfolding around us, I still took days toiling over my calculations, with endless anxious thoughts swimming around in my head.

“Is it fair to ask my students to pay 18.2% more for lessons? How can I make this more palatable for them? What if they just find another teacher who charges less?”

I realized in the middle of this process that I was bending over backwards to avoid making a decision that would ultimately place significantly more value on my lessons, my time, and myself. The truth is, the reason I hated raising prices wasn’t because I wanted to avoid a conversation about raising prices (although that certainly isn’t fun).

I hated raising my prices because I hated valuing myself.

I hated having to be honest with myself about the value of my years of musical training and hours upon hours of practice. I hated having to acknowledge that I’m a good—some would even say outstanding—teacher. I hated giving myself credit for being a patient, compassionate, and fun educator. I hated having to come face-to-face with my own self-worth.

In a society that values hard sciences and mathematics over the arts, that puts a premium on productivity over reflection and relationship-building, it’s exceedingly difficult for me to feel like what I do—or even who I am—has any intrinsic value. Arts? Education? Compassion and patience? Who cares about any of that?

Well… as it turns out, I care. The whole reason I do what I do is because I believe in the arts. I believe that art can enrich lives. I believe that music can help people learn about and love themselves. I believe it because my students and their parents have told me how much joy lessons bring to them. I believe it because the arts have done that for me.

Patience and compassion are what all students—all people, really—need. The joy and fun I bring to lessons is what my students need. The kindness and mentorship I offer them is what I needed as a student.

And that should have value.

I should have value.

I still struggle daily with my sense of self-worth, but I’ll try to remind myself that what I do really does matter. What I do touches lives, whether I can admit it to myself or not. I’m GREAT at what I do. And the fact that I have the gift to do it well is worth its weight in gold.