Piano Lessons

Every person is unique, an individual.  There are no two people in this entire world who are alike in every single way, not even identical twins.  We all have something that sets us apart from one another.  We all have our own personalities - in case you haven't guessed yet, I am a sanguine.   We all have different learning styes.  And sometimes all these different personalities and styles can clash like a two year old banging together a set of large orchestra cymbals with no adult in sight.

My oldest two children, whom I lovingly call N&N, are taking piano lessons.  They do not, however, take the same lessons in the same way, because they are different.  They don't learn the same way.  Up until recently, they were being taught similar, but my daughter, precious child that she is, was very resistant about her lessons.  It seems she is very much like her mother in that she rarely does things the conventional way.  Thankfully, for us, my children have a very experienced teacher who is loving and realizes the need to individualize their classes.

You see, Nyssa wasn't exactly sweet about her piano lessons, I am sorry to say.  She wanted to know instantly how to play and didn't want to take time to sit and learn pentascales and finger positioning.  No, she wanted to just pound out her songs in her own way.  But her teacher did not give up on her.  She knew from the way Nyssa loved playing the keys on the piano that Nyssa really does want to know how to play, deep down inside, and that she needs the consistency at working at something.  If something doesn't come to Nyssa as quickly as she thinks it should, she gives up too quickly.  As a whole, she also gets distracted too easily and has a hard time focusing; and when that happens, she isn't the easiest person in the world to deal with.

So, the wise woman changed tactics with my daughter.  She gave me a CD for my children to listen to throughout the day.  She assigns Nyssa themes for which she can compose her original songs.  She has Nyssa just sit and play notes on the piano and then describe what her mind's eye sees as she plays.  I am very pleased to say that she is starting to get through to Nyssa. 

Nyssa is starting to warm up to this style.  Though she still has to utilize her pentascales in her songs, and she has to use correct hand positioning, she is enjoying the freedom to create.  Just the other day, she played a song for me about ballerinas dancing.  First, they danced all together in a jumble of notes.  Then they started dancing sadly, so she played low, somber notes.  As another set of ballerinas danced happily, her fingers lilted joyously in the higher register.  Then they warred between mourning and gladness until they met in a sweet melodic tune in the middle for her finale'.  It was a joy to listen to as she described it to me, and I was actually surprised how she was beginning to connect emotions with different octives.  She was, for the first time in a while, actually enjoying her practice time.  By time she was done, her face was all aglow.

Her teacher saw Nyssa's need to continue in structure, even if it is something she doesn't think she likes to do.  But she also had the wisdom and the ability to change tactics when my daughter was seemingly getting nowhere.  She didn't give up on my daughter; she adjusted the lessons to a better style for my daughter without compromising on the basics.  She still has to go over all the basic rules, notes, and such during her lesson, but she also has that free time in there to show her creativity.


I think we can all be like Nyssa.  We all have our own personalities, our own styles, our own melodies that we play, and sometimes they may clash with one another.  But if we can recognize our differences and enjoy that part which makes one another unique, we may find ourselves blending much better than we thought we could.  I'm reminded of the Donny and Marie Osmond show when I was young.  "I'm a little bit of country," "and I'm a little rock and roll..." and yet they made the song work in its own way.  We don't have to be all made of the same mold, we don't want to be; we weren't designed to be.  We were designed not to copy, but to complement one another.  And in order to do that, sometimes we just have to stop.  Sometimes we have to be like Nyssa's teacher.  Sometime we just have to listen.  Then we will know how best to help one another.  Isn't that one of the reasons we're here in the first place?