Robert, a very bright boy, was excelling under another teacher’s tutelage at both his piano and violin lessons. Since he also enjoyed singing in his school chorus, his mother thought it might be good to bring him to me to start singing lessons before puberty. “He has the voice of an angel,” she proclaimed as she introduced us.
Robert was compliant with his mother’s plan for him but was pretty sure I didn’t have anything to teach him. He didn’t see the point of doing vocal exercises outside of those done in school. “That seems silly,” was his standard response to any suggestion I made.
Really, aside from using me as an accompanist so he could indulge in singing his favorite songs, he seemed to have little use for me until one day, just when he was leaving, he noticed the weeds growing near my front door.
“False wild strawberries!” he exclaimed.
“He’s always doing stuff like that.” his babysitter shrugged apologetically. A moment later he thrust a handful of tiny berries at me.
“Rhode island Reds,” he said beaming with pride. He also came prepared for his lesson having practiced all week long.
“Taste” he said. “You can use them in tea or jam even though they aren’t sweet.” Suddenly he was on a roll, telling me he raised chickens and herbs and loved sassafras tea. “ I’ll bring you something next time I come,” he declared.
“And I will give you some dried roses that come all the way from China,“ I replied. “They are also used for tea.”
It was the first time he smiled leaving a lesson.
I made sure I had them the next time he came. He arrived empty-handed but lit up when he saw the dried roses and was for the first time incredibly cooperative for our lesson.
The next week he greeted me with a big smile and handed me a small container. I opened it at his prompting. Inside was a wrapper of dried peppermint, a bag of Shitake mushrooms which, he informed me, he grew himself, and the piece de résistance: two big, beautiful brown eggs.
“Rhode island Reds,” he said beaming with pride. He also came prepared for his lesson having practiced all week long.
No matter how talented your child is or how much you might want your child to take music lessons, unless that child is receptive to instruction, it will be a losing battle. Trusting the teacher is a huge factor, and it takes time — and maybe some conversation about tea and chickens — to gain that trust. Unless, of course, you are lucky enough to have a patch of weeds and a student who loves them.
Marie-france teaches piano, voice and drama lessons in her home studio in Waldwick, NJ.