Why I Eliminated “Good” From My Teaching Vocabulary

I’ve always thought of teaching as a lab, not that students are mice! But that teacher and student work in partnership to craft the most effective mindset and approach for each individual. Music is inherent to the human experience, and everyone is capable of being musical. With that unshakeable truth, we get to work on what may be in someone’s way and how we can cultivate open lanes for progress. 

Creativity is one of teachers’ most powerful tools. It activates curiosity and motivation in students, and it’s an aspect of teaching that always inspires me. Whether you’re a teacher, a parent, a coach, or a friend, we can all use our creativity to encourage rather than judge. With judgement comes two sides of the same coin: if there is good, there must also be bad. To avoid the inevitable praise cycle that fosters external validation within this binary, we can choose encouragement instead, leading to deeper motivation and more lasting growth. 

Over years of teaching, I’ve seen how small shifts in language can transform the entire learning environment. My own teaching voice evolved from the mirror each student has held up to me, reflecting my internal assumptions and messages I’d internalized over the years. 

One day, I stopped midsentence, catching myself before the word “good!” unconsciously spilled out after a student played a section of their piece. That pause shifted the course of my teaching. Instead of “good,” I said “yes.” One word, new trajectory. 

That small shift produced immediate results. The feedback framework moved from approval to awareness. Instead of a stop-and-start type of lesson (student plays, waits for evaluation, disengages) we found a collaborative rhythm, guided curiosity, and a genuine enthusiasm about the craft.

Over time, my language choices changed the energy in the room. Students became more reflective, more curious, more connected to their own learning. Instead of glancing at me for my reaction, they began listening inwardly. They learned to trust themselves, and that trust is where musicianship can truly grow.  

Praise focuses on the external approval or critique from someone else. Encouragement focuses on understanding. Praise reinforces who I am as a student, while encouragement reinforces how my progress is going. The latter creates a regenerative source of motivation to take into the practice week. 

Embodying this is tougher than it sounds! It’s so tempting to say “Good job!” and to mean it. But I’ve learned that even well-intentioned praise can tether progress to approval. Carol Dweck’s work on growth mindset echoes what I’ve witnessed in the studio: when we name specific strategies or efforts we strengthen empowerment rather than dependence.  

By asking specific questions, teachers can elicit feedback from the student, rather than guessing at what might help. 

How did that go? 

How did that feel?

What did you notice? 

What feels difficult or clunky? Where?

This approach turns teaching into rewarding detective work. When evaluation steps aside, the process becomes less about perfectionism and more about discovery. 

Encouragement builds confidence that lasts because it's rooted in awareness, not approval. Students gain more than musical skills when we help them find something far more lasting than praise. They find their own voice.