A Practice Parable

Once upon a time there was a lanky, bean of a girl with an above average basketball shooting ability. Placed almost anywhere around a basket, and she could make the shot. She always played with Dad. He would coach, move her arms, check the angles with her. He had a little skill himself and, at first, was glad to show her some basic shots. Soon, she routinely beat the neighbor kids at HORSE, and could even make it from behind the garage, SWOOSH, into the hoop. She wouldn’t practice without Dad outside though. She would ask him at every turn for a little help. So Dad signed her up for summer basketball camp. The first day, a small problem became apparent. She couldn’t run and dribble. This, she found out the hard way, was a key element of the game. And she stunk. Enviable shooting ability, fouled for traveling. Every. Time. She also found out that practicing with her dad on the driveway was a lot kinder than practicing alone, or with the kids at camp. At home, Dad would set her up, and she would shine. Here, courts were long, there was a lot less positive feedback, and the coaches expected her to get better. Worst of all, she discovered that some of basketball was really hard. And boring. And sweaty. And, well, work. She had some natural talent, but just like a lot of people with a lot of talents, she had hoped it would be easy. At a certain point, she is in charge of her own feet.

I Could Get Used to This!

Due to a combination of snow, cold, and illness, I had the pleasure of seeing a student Wednesday, Friday, and again on Monday last week. At the Monday lesson, when she realized we had made a great deal of progress on her pieces, she exclaimed, "I could get used to this!"

Well, so could I! I noticed immediately that mistakes were not ground in after a week on her own. She practices every day and knew exactly what I was expecting TOMORROW to be accomplished. There was no time for sedentary behavior on her or my part. In fact, I would love to schedule all of my studio this way, all the time.

Oh, if I could get direct feedback from an instructor on my pottery class three times per week, or to have a directed approach to fitness or a goal I wanted to achieve. I wonder how feasible it is to question the once per week lesson approach.

My father is going to have some physical therapy, which will meet three times per week at first. A friend of mine lost a lot of weight, weighed in every other day. It kept her accountable, she said.

I wonder in what area of my life I could use this strategy? It certainly would be worthwhile if it was a goal worth achieving.

Fruits of No Labor

I did very little, ok, nothing, to this pear tree and yet it will yield about 6 beautiful pears this year. If you'd like to see the infant version, there's a post with a picture from July 9th. This projects a little trouble into my view that 'you get out of the piano what you put into it'. I have students that practice a lot, work hard and are fine musicians. I have students that don't practice much, but yet have sounded really good!

What I wonder is what they would sound like if they worked hard too? I have gently asked them similar questions. In the book, "Strength Finders", Tom Rath provides interesting insight that in America, we are constantly shoring up our weak spots. Yet in other countries, they determine what the child's strengths are and play to them from an early age. They have schools devoted to helping a student excel in an area in which they have already shown promise. This was curious to me.

As I thought about my studio, the American way is precisely how I handle many of the students. Not a good note reader? We'll drill flashcards. Not a good sightplayer, let's do a little of that at every lesson. Not good with memory? Let's strive to memorize one every term. Why do I do that? I'm still asking myself. Why do I expect them to be good at everything? I'm not. I've heard marvelous pianists who can't play by ear. I've heard marvelous sight players that don't really listen.

Perhaps I can be more like the pear tree and allow them to shine in the areas in which they already possess great aptitude. I don't ask the pear tree to produce apples or plums. It's worth considering as I get ready for another teaching year!

Sent to Jail, Directly to Jail

When my students have a spot that they just can't play without a mistake, I sometimes get to the end of my rope and draw pencil "bars" around the bars. Two students in a row ended up in jail, go directly to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200.00.

First we do Left Hand 3 times IN A ROW correctly. Then we do Right Hand 3 times IN A Row correctly. I keep count on my fingers and call out the number correctly that they have done. If they make a mistake, I make the game show buzzer sound, dun dun DUHN, and they have to try it again. This works even better when you can really laugh it up. "Oh NOOOOOOO, you whiffed the third one!" Start again at zero.

When we finally get each hand alone, "we" have to get it hands together. This took a whole lesson for a young lady. 30 minutes - four measures. We had 4 other books I was hoping to get through. Heavy sigh.

But this wasn't about those 4 measures really, was it? This is about perseverance, diligence, and learning how to practice something. The details are what matters. Perhaps sometime she will transfer this grueling task to something else in her life, until she gets it just right.

"What? The lesson is over already?" she said. I said, "Yes, and you are now in jail every time you play this piece this week. You must start in jail, right here at measure 12-16, and play it three times IN A ROW correctly before you start at the beginning, just like we did here."

*Groan* "I want a 'Get Out of Jail Free' card," she said.

Don't we all, sweetie, don't we all?

Practice Makes Perfect?

A mom and I were having a conversation about the increase in practice time that I had asked of her children. It had been significant because they had big goals. She said that it had been working, that she and her husband had really heard progress in their music, and best of all, it had changed the student's perspective. Because they knew that they were going to be on the bench for awhile, they really dug in and did some hard work, rather than playing through the music and being satisfied. She thanked me. Can you believe it? She thanked me for asking more of her children. Then she smiled and said, "Practice makes perfect, right?"

One of the children on the couch sat up that moment and said, "That's not what Chris says. Chris says that practice makes BETTER." This is true, I do say that. I've never really heard myself quoted before however. It wiggled in my gut. Oh my.

There are so many influences on children these days. The research says that it still comes from home the most. But this is a realization that who you choose for other coaching matters too. We private teachers spend precious amounts of time one on one with your kids. I spend years, YEARS, with some of them. We go through middle school, braces, drivers permits, first dates and prom together. They end up on my Facebook-I play at their weddings. I am so blessed to be part of their lives.

I can't imagine choosing a teacher because the lesson time on Tuesday at 5:30 is available.

After the student had spoken, there was an awkward pause, the mom looked back to me in gratitude and said, "You're such an influence on my family." I smiled. May I always treat my relationships, especially with students, with care and compassion, even when I need to kick 'em in the pants.

Practice Practice Practice

"We perform what we practice."
"Only practice on the days you eat."
"Practice makes better."
"How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time"
Or my friend's small black button on her coat, "go home and practice".

How many ways can I encourage, nudge, nurture, foster, engage the young artist? Musicians can't just show up and BE great. (That only happens on TV, like American Idol) Musicians BECOME great when they work out the details. I want to push, I'd like to nip a little on their heels, but I refrain. I can't make them love this. I can lead them to the music, I can be a good example. I am trying to ask the right questions and put the numbers out there. After all this is mathematical. If you want to be memorable, you spend the time at the bench. What goal can I set before you in a small attainable way that sparks your inner fire to do more, go higher?

Minutes per day, hours per week, it's not glamorous, nor is it a mystery, really. I remember sitting in the basement practicing and hearing kids play ball in the open field next to our house. I got out there eventually. I didn't mind the process, most days.

February is that revealing month as end of the year goals start to look out of reach. It happens every year. We eagerly said "yes, of course we can" accomplish this or that. The wonderful thing in September is that it's all true. We CAN accomplish the goal, if we put in the time, slowly, daily, working toward May. It's what our country will realize soon. "Yes, we can" will take daily hard honest work.

If I didn't practice as a tortoise, slowly and steadily conquering the road, February now looks bleak. 10 weeks until May is over. The task too mighty, the deadline too near. Minutes a day now better become hours. It's not always the talented that rise to the top - it's often the hard worker. Bach once said that everyone would have as many compositions if they worked as hard as he. He believed more than talent he had a stronger work ethic than most. Yikes.

I have a fantastic quote on my wall from Jon Kimura Parker. "I practiced this and this and this (imagine big black sharpie arrows pointing to the program notes), even when I was completely sick of them!"

How many ways can I encourage you? Go and practice. You can do it.