As a piano teacher, I was determined to find a way to get my students to practice. I pleaded to their better natures. I bribed them with candy bars. And then… Eureka! I had the answer. Recitals! My students didn’t like to practice, but they did like to perform.
Students recitals were a tradition back when I was taking lessons from Sister Aimee. We hated recitals but Sister Aimee was determined. Our music had to be memorized. It had to be difficult. Often, it had to be boring.
Because Sister Aimee produced the annual Christmas pageant, an over-the-top extravaganza of angels and shepherds, we were spared the ritual of a Christmas recital. But nothing could deter Sister Aimee from having us perform in May.
My memories of being in a recital included stomach pains and anxiety attacks. Students threatening to throw up or worse. A third grade classmate actually wet her pants onstage ~ a fact that she probably hasn’t lived down to this day.
That’s not the kind of piano recital I wanted. No, I just wanted the kind that would motivate my students to actually open their books and practice their lesson. That meant having recitals not once, but four times a year. Every eight weeks my students were on stage. There was always a reception afterward, with cookies and punch, and the opportunity to bask in their parents’ proud faces.
I kept the tradition of having an end-of-the-year recital in May. Girls were happy to dress up in fancy dresses. The boys reluctantly wore something besides jeans. I let the students choose their favorite songs. I often accompanied them and together we dazzled the audience.
Of course there was a Christmas recital, with beautiful familiar Christmas songs. And again, girls in fancy dresses and boys in shirts with collars. Wonderful, sing-along music and proud parental faces.
That left two more recitals to schedule, one in the fall and one in the spring. I had to be creative with the spring recital. One year we had a Teddy Bear’s Picnic. Students brought their favorite stuffed animal to sit on the bench with them. One year we had a Celebration of Spring ~ with songs about flowers and kites.
The best recital of all, however, was the first recital of the year. The Halloween Recital. Just think about it. We all came in costumes. Teacher included. Ghosts and vampires, clowns and ninjas trooped into the piano store, up to the large performance stage at the top of the stairs. Parents smiled as they were seated, ready with their cameras. Students were giddy with excitement. Best of all, no one threw up or wet their pants.
I taught piano lessons for seven years. I had a lot of students and I was more or less successful. By the end of that time, however, I realized I was ready for something else.
“I’m going to be ninety years old, someday, still sitting on this piano bench trying to get these students to practice their lesson,” I thought one rainy day. I looked outside, just as lightning hit a tree in my backyard, knocking out my power, and ending lessons for that day.
The next day, I met a friend for lunch.
“What’s new?” I asked her.
“I’m doing the craziest thing,” she announced.
“What?”
“I’m moving to Mexico.”
“Really?” A lightbulb went off in my head. “I’m coming with you,” I declared.
I moved to Mexico. Some say I did it on a whim. Maybe the lightning strike was a sign that I needed to shake up my life. Or maybe, I had just run out of Halloween costumes.
My piano lessons were pretty much a bust. But if I had been lucky
enough to have a fun teacher like you, I might have even practiced.
Thinking that you moved to Mexico because you ran out of Halloween costumes made me laugh out loud.
Interestingly, I took piano lessons until I graduated from high school and never had one recital. Yours sound like much more fun than what I have envisioned over the years!