Once upon a pandemic, I was bored out of my mind. A few years before, I started taking piano classes. By 2020, although my performance level was suboptimal, in part due to severe performance anxiety, I had a fairly solid grasp of musical concepts and theories.
At some point after the marshmallow fights and before true cabin-fever type insanity set in, I was sitting at the kitchen table trying to figure out what to do with my time. Perhaps it was a spark of inspiration, a lightbulb moment, the universe leading me to my future; call it what you will. I think in truth my plan was born from mild curiosity and massive boredom. I turned to my six-year-old sister and asked her if she wanted to learn how to play the piano. Much to my surprise, she agreed. I wrongly assumed her desire to not-be-bossed-around by her big sister would outweigh her interest in piano.
We searched the bookshelves and fished around in the piano bench of our 100-year-old upright grand until we found a collection of crumpled beginner piano books. We started class and she learned her finger numbers and how to play her first song. We planned to have short lessons once a week.
Not many weeks passed before the desire to not-be-bossed-around by her big sister set in. I remedied this by offering small prizes at the end of class, and my mom helped out by offering treats.
My teaching efforts were clumsy and I often rambled while trying to explain certain concepts such as why middle C is called middle C when it is not exactly in the center of the keyboard. Children have a way of asking questions about concepts we simply take for granted.
At the time, my career plan was to become a special education teacher. I was in high school taking classes in Early Childhood Education to get as much preparation as I could. I already knew that I wanted to help people. I enjoyed creating lesson plans. The antics of small children always made me laugh. So I knew becoming a teacher was a solid path. I would always have a job. Everyone told me, “we need good teachers.”
However, I was surprised to discover that I was becoming somewhat good at teaching piano specifically. I enjoyed it.
This realization dawned on me as society began to slowly reopen. Life felt a bit like a sunflower, expanding to full bloom.
I was also looking for ways to make a bit of extra money. My miniscule allowance I got from completing chores just wasn’t cutting it anymore, particularly with college around the corner.
I approached the mother of my little sister’s best friend and offered to teach the aforementioned friend piano lessons. To my elation, the mother enthusiastically agreed. Honestly, this wonderful woman’s faith in my potential changed my life.
During my junior year of high school, I taught lessons to this young friend as well as a few other children from our church. It felt a bit like a babysitting gig. It worked wonderfully at the time. But as I said, my plan at the time was to graduate high school and go on to get a degree in education. I certainly did not expect these simple piano lessons to be the first stepping stone to being self-employed.
The only thing I did know is I had a new student and frustratingly miniscule resources for teaching piano to someone with her needs.
To be continued…
