Piano Can Be Fun

by Lauri Goodwin

When I was a little girl, I was a whiner. In truth, if you asked my husband, my family, and close friends, they would most likely say that I still am. My Puerto Rican grandmother, Isolina, who had all of an eighth-grade education and worked in New York to support her illiterate, single mother and two younger siblings, needless to say, wasn’t very tolerant of whining. Given her set of circumstances, she did remarkably well for herself throughout the course of her colorful (and I mean colorful) life of eighty- something years. We were never certain of her age, because in earlier years she would occasionally try to pass herself off as my mother’s sister. It would be pretty safe to assume there was a man involved. She told my mom that she was 16 when she had her, but my great-aunt exposed the truth and told my mom that she was actually 27. I clearly remember her buying me a book called, “Manners Can Be Fun”. I can still visualize the “Whiner” character with her oversized head, curly hair, and ski-slope nose. She was personified misery. “Iso” insisted that I learn to play the piano. She bought me a black upright and paid for me to take lessons from a woman who had never had any children.

“Katie”, my teacher, loved me and thought of me as the grandchild she never had. I loved the piano, but practicing was drudgery. My mom would set the wind-up kitchen timer for thirty minutes and I would practice while she created one of her many comforting meals in the adjacent kitchen. If I wouldn’t put forth my best effort, her voice would drone, “Do it again, Lauri.” UGH!!!!! When I could get away with it, I would stealthfully shave 5-10 minutes off to shorten the agonizing monotony. I would groan, “MO-OM, why do I have to practice piano? I just want to go outside and play with my friends.” After she had her fill of my whining, she told me that if I wanted to quit piano, I would have to tell Katie that I didn’t want to play anymore and it just might break her heart. I emphatically said, “Done.” After Katie’s and my eyes swelled with tears, I was incredibly relieved to be finished with such a tedious chore…until I was an adult.

I began taking piano lessons again when I was about 35 and LOVED it. I also took voice lessons. I continued with them until I gave birth to my daughter Grace. I relished the practice knowing that she was in my belly enjoying classical, musical sounds. After she was born, I quit playing as often for fear that it might awaken her from her naps. Instead, I played a never-ending CD of classical music in her room while she slept. To this day, she has an affinity for playing the more classical pieces. I had heard about a method of teaching/learning piano called “The Suzuki Method.” It is a way to teach the student to play by ear. She started by repetitively and continuously listening to a CD of the songs she was to soon learn. She started taking lessons from an amazing teacher when she was 3 1/2 years old. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree when she heard her teacher play those songs for the very first time. She excitedly said, “Mommy, those are the songs that are in my bedroom!” Her first recital was 4 days after her fourth birthday when she played a variation of “Twinkle, Twinkle” with only one hand. She has been playing ever since and has wowed me not only with her gift of music but also with her stage presence and courage.

Shortly after she started, I attended a Suzuki Workshop and sat in on an adults-only seminar given by a seasoned Suzuki Piano teacher. The lecture was titled “Practice Without Violence” (tongue-in-cheek and wonderfully clever). She spoke for a while and then asked the room of forty, “How many of you parents played piano as children?” The entire group raised their hands. She then asked, “How many of you had parents who allowed you to quit because they couldn’t bear hearing you complain about the practice any more?” About half of the hands hesitantly went up knowing that we were the mewling culprits. Her last question was, “How many of you are glad you quit?” Deafening silence. At that moment, I was filled with all the resolve that I will ever need to make sure that my daughter continues until she is finished with high school. What she does with it after that is her choice. If nothing else, she could feed herself by playing at weddings.;-)

When she first started playing piano, her creative teacher had a “bag of tricks” that held a collection of darling little resin figures that the really young students were able to line up on the piano when they were focused and played well. She had Winnie the Pooh and Disney characters, Smurfs, and several of the Mr. Men and Little Miss figurines (my personal favorites). She had one in particular, Mr. Bump, that she would use to make sure the students “bumps” (a.k.a knuckles) were in proper form. She also had a complementary series of small books that she would read to them to break up the lesson and hold their attention. After Grace had learned to play several of the Suzuki pieces, she would delight Grace with “The Fishing Game”. Her teacher had a telescopic magnet, “the pole”, and a variety of fish-shaped paper laminated with a paper clip inside. Each of the fish had the name of the different songs. Her teacher would scatter the fish upside down on the floor and then Grace would pick them up, one at a time, with “the pole” and have to play the specified song. To this day, it is still Gracie’s personal favorite, only now she is playing Beethoven and Mozart.

I don’t have the same toys as her wonderful teacher, but I have created my own tricks and it seems to make our practice more fun and less monotonous. I will let her pick out the book that she would like me to read between songs. Over the course of six years, we have graduated from Baby Einstein to Skippy John Jones to Harry Potter. If she plays it mediocre, she gets one page. If it is played well I’ll reward her with maybe 4 depending on what we wager. Interestingly enough, if she knows that there are four pages on the line, she will keep playing it until she gets the “perfect” and “wins” the prize. I don’t know if she has figured out that she is only benefitting herself by trying to beat me. That’s okay…it’s a win-win situation.

I remember one time she was preparing for a Festival where her performance would be judged. She was struggling with the ending and I told her, “Grace, if you play it perfectly, I will read you four pages of Harry Potter.” She said, “Mom, make it five.” I said, “Okay, but it has to be perfect.” She continued to struggle, so I decided to juice the kitty. “Okay Grace. If you play this perfectly, not only will Mom read you five pages of Harry Potter, I will do a cartwheel in that foyer right there.” She lit up like a brilliant neon sign. “You will?????” “You betcha!” It took her about five times to get it right, and when she did, it was sweet victory! After stretching and saying a silent prayer, I did the cartwheel. The landing was a little less than stellar, but the mission was accomplished. Piano, along with anything else that is often tedious, can be fun. There really is no need for whining.

Princess To Patty Cake

13Feb2014

Love is Manifested Best in Life’s Little Things

by Lauri Goodwin

I am not a morning person. I am fully aware of the many blessings upon which I have been bestowed. However, thoughts of gratitude aren’t gushing from my foggy mind before my first cup of coffee or full cognitive thought. If I had my druthers, my day would start around 8:00-8:30 a.m. and end around 11:00-11:30 p.m. I prefer purplish-pink, seductive sunsets to orangey-yellow, blinding sunrises. I’d much rather enjoy a dinner of grilled, succulent rosemary-crusted lamb chops washed down with a glass of musty, full-bodied Cabernet than a piping-hot cup of coffee and a steamy bowl of healthy oatmeal with fresh fruit. I relish the end of the day when I get to put my daughter to bed. I take my time reading a few pages of Harry Potter in my best British accent before saying a prayer for our family, friends, country and soldiers. I spoon with her as we sing “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” which, admittedly, can bring this bladder-eyes to tears. Lastly, I inhale her slumbering sweetness as I kiss her goodnight and turn off the light. I celebrate that my job is complete for the day and then mindlessly go through the bedtime rituals. Sometimes they include washing my face and brushing my teeth, sometimes they don’t. Sorry Mom! My husband, God love him, used to put toothpaste on my toothbrush every morning and night because he deemed it just as easy applying it to two as it was one; he already had the toothpaste out. It was an act that I under-appreciated until we got state-of-the-art brushes that were not kept together in one cup but charging at opposite sinks and didn’t lay flat like the manual ones. I wrestle out of my clothes and into my pajamas before falling decadently into bed. I optimistically dream about being able to make some headway in one of the many burgeoning “must-reads” spilling out from under my bed, only to doze off thinking, “I better get to sleep; the alarm will be going off much too quickly.” That last moment of consciousness before falling asleep is SO much better than the blaring buzzer that goes off every 10 minutes because your husband, who IS a morning person and regularly cites “Carpe Diem!”, sets it forty minutes earlier than necessary to wake up slowly.

One particular morning recently, neither he nor I had to get up early. Our sweet daughter came in about 7:00 a.m. and tapped me on the shoulder. Staving off my apoplectic reaction, my first thought was, “You have got to be kidding me!” She softly whispered, “Mom, I made you and Dad breakfast.” After I stifled my grumpy thoughts and frustration at her having unnecessarily awakened us so early, I stilled myself and thought, “Oh no! What big mess am I going to have to clean up when I get out to the kitchen?” She hasn’t quite mastered the technique of cracking eggs yet. I pictured slimy egg whites smeared all over my granite counter tops, crumbs scattered everywhere, etc. Dennis the Menace and Mr. Wilson came to mind. I dragged myself out of the warm soft bed and kept my grumbling to myself. When I got to the kitchen, the sight that greeted me stopped me in my tracks. There before me were two small bowls of frosted flakes soaking in milk. Adorning them were the absolutely sweetest smiley faces made of blueberry eyes and mouths and strawberry noses. I felt a bit shameful for not being more enthusiastic when she first woke me out of my deep sleep, but it was so worth losing those extra Zzzzzzs. Grace, thank you so much for helping Mommy to remember to be grateful…the little things are what counts. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Princess to Patty Cake

31Jan2014

What Kind of Leader Are You As A Parent?

by Lauri Goodwin

Recently, I attended a luncheon to honor Forty Leaders Under Forty. Each of them gave brief vignettes of that which steered them in their commitment toward leadership excellence. What stood out as a common thread in many of their personal stories was a very strong influence of parental leadership. One of the nominees mentioned his very young mother who was pregnant with him at fifteen. Contrary to the advice of others to discontinue her pregnancy, she gave birth and raised him, as a single mother, to be a now-successful physician who is being honored for his leadership. Another recipient, who overcame a possibly debilitating disease, chose to buck the foregone conclusion of working for his family’s hugely successful business to start his own and credited his mother for her wonderful example in his life. Another award winner praised the words of his grandfather that encouraged him to follow his dreams and to never give up on those aspirations. As a nation who seems to be raising a generation of entitled “millennials”, how are we as parents doing at being leaders to our children? I think there is vast area for improvement.

Do we hold our kids accountable? There are countless, age-old expressions that seem a little cliche today but were based in Scripture which we could apply to give ourselves a broad template to compare ourselves to. We reap what we sow (Galatians 6:7-8). Regardless of ones walk of faith, we have heard that expression countless times, but do we really apply it? Do we allow our children to reap what they sow? After all, there is no better teacher than experience.

Do we allow our children’s peers to shape our most treasured? Parents fall prey to the hype that their kids need phones to be able to get ahold of them. Until they start driving and are in a car alone, is there really any need for them to have a phone? We didn’t have cell phones when I grew up and we didn’t need them. There was always an adult who would be happy to let you use their “land line” to phone your parents much less now every adult has a cell phone. Parents buckle to the pressure of their children’s peers without thinking of the ramifications. Teenagers and Tweens are plugged into their friends and/or social media 24-7. The teenage years are a mine-filled journey and we allow the inexperienced to advise our kids on navigating the rough waters of adolescence. When I was a kid, only parents had a phone in their room (which was a place we didn’t spend a lot of time in unless given permission). My brother and I had to use the phone in the kitchen within earshot of my parents. Were we thrilled about it? No! Did it allow my parents insight into what was going on in the hearts and mind of their children? Absolutely! From my own experience, once these kids have phones, they replace family conversation/ fun time with distracted attention texting their friends. Do we check our kids phones periodically and authoritatively simply because it is the right thing to do? I don’t think we would put our children into a car, put it in gear when they can’t see above the steering wheel but can reach the gas pedal, and send them out into a busy street, would we?

Why have we given up being stewards of our children’s innocence? Kids are participating in sex at much earlier ages than ever before. The rate of sexually transmitted diseases is at an all time high including HPV which has become epidemic in proportion. As a matter of fact, HPV is quickly surpassing tobacco products as the cause of throat cancer. Kids are dropped off at parties with no phone calls from parents to checking to see if there will be an adult chaperone supervising the festivities. I was listening to a speaker that was asking parents, ” How many of you in here trust your teenagers?” About half the hands went up. He said, “There is your biggest mistake.” I thought, “Really? Who are these people? Weren’t they once teenagers too? Could my parents trust me? Probably not…” The internet is loaded with pornographic images …when was the last time we checked what our children have been looking at?

Are we teaching our children the value of hard work. Today all the wants of American teens far outnumber the needs. Kids have iPods, iPads, iPhones, Xbox 360, PS4, meanwhile many of these families bury themselves financially to provide for their little darlings. I am most often impressed with the kids of families that insist that their children share in the fiscal burden of some of the extravagances that have become mainstay in our culture. Kids today are getting manicures and pedicures, massages, waxing, and having seen them at the salon, I am abhorred by some of their behavior. Periodically, I treat myself to a mani/pedi and get to sit and listen to a mother call her kid’s name over and over again only for that child to be rewarded in the end with getting their nails done. What do these kids have to look forward to?

To have a great society, we need great leaders. I think if we occasionally take a personal inventory of our job creating the futures leaders, we will all see areas for improvement. Make yourself a leader that will inspire your children to want to emulate and lead others.