I didn’t want to post this, but just the other day the situation repeated itself… So I had to.
Parents, what are you doing? Your child is not your project of lost opportunity. Your child is your son or daughter, not your property. Don’t make your child the prototype of your missed desire.
This is the fourth time parents have called asking me to teach their child to play the guitar. I ask, “Do you need it or does the child?”
And then a whole story begins:
- “I played/played or wanted to learn to play this or that instrument, but somehow it didn’t work out.”
- Well, it didn’t work out, so that’s okay, that means they didn’t want it, they didn’t see anything important in it.
They continue, not listening to me.
- “And now I want my child to learn to play/sing.”
- “And what does the child want?”
- “Well, a child can’t understand what’s important to them.”
- “No, a child understands exactly what he wants.”
I’ll give you an example from my experience:
A father and son came to the music school where I taught. The father came into my office and started telling me how he played guitar in his youth.
“We had a drum kit, but I didn’t really understand where or when to hit it. Then a friend said maybe I should try vocals. You can’t sing much with a hoarse voice from smoking. My uncle gave me a guitar, and then I started playing, though I started late.”
“I’d like my son to learn guitar too and jam out in the yard or in a band. Especially since I’ve heard musicians are making pretty good money these days.”
I agreed.
The father paid for two months of tuition up front (in 2009, that’s exactly $10, or $5 a month). Back then, all music schools charged about that much.
Of course, I understood that this was only his father’s wish, and the very first lesson confirmed my suspicions.
We had a lesson on how to pinch. The boy arrived early and sat in the hallway, patiently waiting his turn.
After the students burst out of my office laughing, I asked the boy to come in and begin the lesson.
I started the conversation as I always do with newcomers. I asked him what he felt when he saw a guitar, a guitarist, heard guitar music, and so on. The boy simply remained silent.
As soon as we began the lesson, I noticed that Seryozha was distracted by the paintings in the office, the paint on the table, and the colorful maracas lying nearby. Needless to say, the training was ineffective. Although I must give him credit, he performed every exercise as if he had to, hanging his head and nodding in response. I would have thrown a tantrum long ago and said I didn’t want to and wouldn’t do anything I didn’t like. And he sits there, the whole time he only said “hello” and that’s it.
To be continued…
