Lessonsf from a music teacher

Bob could not play repeatedly on beats one and three or on two and four for an entire song. Even when counting out loud he lost his place. This was a big problem, since he played percussion and the band needed him to keep the correct beat. No amount of counting, explanation or playing it for him or with him helped. What is missing in his mind and body that he can’t do this? I needed to tell his mom and dad that he shouldn’t continue with the drums, but I hesitated. Maybe I didn’t want to tell them; maybe I didn’t know how to tell them. One day I said to Bob: Be a penguin. Flap your arms like a penguin would when he is walking and play the rhythm on the page, and he did.

Thinking it might have been a fluke, I made him do another one. He could do that, too. What he couldn’t do, play a rhythm while holding drum sticks and using small motor skills, he could do when using his arms and large motor skills, and that gave us a place to begin.

I learned from Bob not to give up on a student who isn’t getting it, to keep trying one more thing and to invent new ways to present basic concepts.

Mark’s saxophone reed broke right before our band was to play in the concert. He had not brought any spare reeds, and neither had I. He was in tears. Michael, the other saxophone player, had one to spare and gave it to Mark. Hoping Mark had learned to bring extra reeds and to be prepared, I asked him in the rehearsal following the concert what he had learned from this experience.

His answer was not what I expected. He said, “It’s good to have friends.”

I learned from Mark that community and caring for one another is as important as personal growth.

Cindy is an eighth-grade clarinet player who had to play the second clarinet part all by herself in one of our pieces. In one section of the song the rhythm was difficult, and she struggled to get it right, even after working on it many times and in many ways. I would often see or sense Cindy’s tears coming when I worked with her on this and decided that (1) she didn’t want to be singled out in front of the other band members; and (2) she didn’t want to be corrected for something that for some reason she couldn’t seem to fix. Finally, I decided to stop correcting her, even though sometimes she played it incorrectly.

I learned from Cindy that her sense of accomplishment in playing a part all by herself was more important to me than her playing the passage perfectly.

Kim, a fifth grader who plays flute, didn’t have a cloth (or handkerchief) for cleaning the moisture out of her flute after playing. When I asked her if she could use one of her dad’s, she said that when her dad had moved out of the house he took all his clothes and handkerchiefs with him. I gave her one of my extras.

I learned from Kim that there is always more going on in a student’s life than is visible to me.

Rachel was a so-so student on the flute. In seventh grade she was still writing in the fingerings, playing the wrong notes and playing in the wrong octave. But then at some point during the year she began to improve. She stopped playing wrong notes and in the wrong octave and even sought out more challenging music. When I asked her about this sudden improvement, she said, “I decided that I wanted to get better, so I started practicing.”

I learned from Rachel that no matter how well I teach, there won’t be any improvement or success until the student decides that she wants to learn what I am teaching.

Dave is an eighth-grade student who doesn’t practice. He is used to getting and doing whatever he wants. When I challenged him to think about whether or not he wanted to continue with private lessons, saying that I didn’t think we should waste his parent’s money or my time, he became angry with me.

I learned from Dave, as from Rachel, that no matter how well I teach, there won’t be any improvement or success until the student decides that he wants to learn what I am teaching.

Steve is the “problem child” of the fifth grade. He calls out and is disrespectful of his classmates and his teachers. Yet during lessons and in band with me he is attentive, on task and able to multitask as he plays percussion.

I learned from Steve that I am needed. I also learned that instrumental music education is valuable and essential.

Larry won’t look at me when he talks to me. He is quiet and stiff and odd. What a surprise it was, then, to hear (and see) him perform a solo on the piano! When did he become able to express himself so passionately through his music? He “speaks” through his playing. If he could communicate well through his speech and body language, would he still play the piano with so much expression and meaning? He is like a penguin; awkward when walking on land but at ease “flying” through the water.

I learned from Larry that students can surprise us with who and what they become.

Shelley A. Berg is an instrumental music teacher at Penn View Christian School in Souderton, Pa.