Saturday, December 5, 2015

"Jingle Bells" and Hard Lessons

About a year and a half ago, the seven-year-old (then six) asked if she could take violin lessons. She's a pretty musical kid naturally and she had seen the violin at the music store where I work. We talked about it and I guess I fantasized a bit about having a child prodigy. It could happen, right? We made her promise that she wouldn't argue with us about practicing and she said she wouldn't.

So I rented a violin for her at $30 a month and we started lessons with a young violin teacher we know from the store -- another $20 a week.

Like most kids, there was a lot of initial enthusiasm. And like a lot of kids, there was a lot of push back once the practice became a little more work.

There was a recital last year. She had been playing only a few months at that point and she didn't do too well. She forgot where she was in the piece and just kept repeating.

This year, she's playing "Jingle Bells." Still pizzicato, but I think that's because her teacher thinks she'll fuck up the bowing too much.

We've asked her to practice every day -- just ten minutes. When I was her age, I had to practice piano thirty minutes a day. Ten minutes is nothing.

Except apparently it is. Because when those ten minutes come around, she would rather scream, cry, beg, scowl, and lay in the floor for an hour rather than run through "Go Tell Aunt Rhody" for ten minutes.

I've been there. I know what it's like. I remember sitting at the piano with an egg timer set to thirty minutes and just crying. But my mom never let me off the hook.

I guess we're just pussies. I'm especially embarrassed about this because I'm a musician and I've taught music. I know you're supposed to tow the line on practicing. And I can't just blame her mom either, because I totally get it. You've got a crying baby, a toddler eating pennies, and a middle schooler acting like an asshole because you won't let him watch another four hours of Ben 10 because you just might lose your fucking mind if you hear that theme song again. Then you've got this first grader laying in the floor, wailing at the top of her lungs after you told her to get her bow and you are just sure the neighbors are calling CPS because it sounds like you're pulling out her fingernails.

Some days, you just say, "Fuck it. It's not worth it."

Other people do this better. That's hard to admit. My sister has four boys and she got all of them taking music lessons and they all practiced. The two older ones are quite accomplished musicians now.

This is a failure. I know that.

Her recital is this afternoon. All week she's been talking about it like she's marching to the death camps. Her teacher is moving after Christmas, so driving home from her lesson Thursday she informed me that after the recital, she was never playing violin again. Last night when I asked her to help put away dishes, she started crying. "What's up?" "I'm too sad to put away dishes. I get sad thinking about having to play my recital." Yeah. I know. Manipulative, right?

This morning I suggested she get out her violin and run through "Jingle Bells." "I don't want to!" Whining. Tears. Fine. Fuck it.

Thirty minutes ago, her mom told her to start getting ready. "But I want to run through my song!!" Grrrrr. She cried. She didn't want to go. We reminded her of all the times she refused to practice. I reminded her that I told her to practice this morning. More tears. "Why are you guys so mean?!" I finally told her to get ready or she is grounded till Christmas day.

So, in about an hour, I imagine this seven-year-old (who I do love, I want to emphasize at this point) is going to be standing on the stage at a church in front of about fifty people, completely shitting in her hat. Crashing and burning. She's going to freeze up and she's going to be embarrassed.

And we are going to let it happen.

I know a lot of you are going to disagree with that decision. You may even think it's a little cruel. It's not. It would be really easy just to let her skip out. It would save her embarrassment. It would save us embarrassment.

Full disclosure here: I'm not going to the recital.

I promise it's not because I would be embarrassed. We just decided it would be easier. Her biological dad is coming. We have a toddler and a baby, and it makes more sense to leave them here than to pack up six people to hear a thirty-second rendition of "Jingle Bells."

On some level, I would spare her the pain. But some pain is worth it -- including the pain of failure. The thing is, you can't always opt out of your responsibilities. And you need to learn the lesson that if you don't prepare, you will fail.

She has lots of other activities -- children's chorus, gymnastics, etc. She has had mostly success. But this is a lesson she needs to learn.

And frankly, it is a lesson we need to learn, too. We need to learn to tow the line better maybe. Or make things clearer about our expectations. Or that we need to not over-extend the kids. I'm not sure, but it seems like we need to learn something.

I guess I haven't learned it yet.


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