Sour mood days April 5, 2009

I usually know immediately when I’m having one of those ‘sour mood’ days because as soon as my mood turns sour, I tell myself – “watch what you do or say now, don’t let this affect others around you”. Nothing else matters to me more during my sour mood than how I react to Anusha . For, my sour mood chooses to demonstrate itself at the most unacceptable moments of all – when I’m having some of my most precious moments with her.

The other day, my sour mood decides to show up during her violin practice. It has already required some convincing on my part that day for her to start practicing. By the time she starts I am already thinking – ‘how many more years will it be by the time she starts practicing on her own? I don’t know whether I can go on like this for any longer…’

Her teacher has assigned her a new song – ‘Bourree’ by G.F.Handel. It’s a beautiful piece and we both love the song. She has heard this song play on a CD many times and knows the tune in her heart. Left to herself and her awesome auditory skills, she’ll probably figure out the notes to play on the violin without even looking at the written music. But the goal that her teacher has set is for her to learn to play while reading the music in her book. She knows how to read music but not very fluently. She wants to succumb to her human nature and take the easy way out – play to the sound of it rather than the look of it. The only thing that is in her way today is her mother – looking quite dangerous in her sour mood.

Before she starts to play she looks at my face and realizes that things may become quite grim today. So, she says,
“Amma, you’ve promised me that you’ll not shout at me”
“I know sweetie pie. And you’ve promised me that you’re going to try your best, right”, I say.
“Yes, Amma”. But she is not convinced – by both our promises to each other. I can see it in her eyes.

She first practices some warm-up songs and some older lessons. As we turn the page to the “Bourree” and she plays the first note, she is aware of my keen eyes trying to track the notes in her music book. I can just feel it – instead of focusing on the music, she is focusing on when I’m going to say something to her. I now close my eyes and try my best to hear some music but all I can hear is noise. I tell myself to calm down my anger and she tries to calm down her tears. We both succeed this time.

We decide to try our parts again – playing the music in the book and be an encouraging parent respectively. I close my eyes again and still hear only noise. I give up trying to calm myself down and say in a loud voice -
“Why aren’t you using your brain a little – think and play”.
I’m also a little frustrated with her posture. I adjust her violin so that the shoulder rest on the violin sits firmly on her shoulder, but I wish I could have been more gentle when I did that.

By now, she is in tears and that irritates me even more.
I say to her condescendingly, “How many times have I told you that it is okay to make a mistake but not okay if you don’t try?”
“Amma, you promised me that you are not going to shout”, she says softly.
“Yes, I promised. But you promised me that you’re going to try”, I say.

She now decides that she is better off focusing on her music. We continue to dig through the music. I’m now focusing on toning down my voice and temper. We get through the practice without any more outbursts, especially from my side. But this practice session has left both of us exhausted. I’m not only exhausted but quite unhappy with myself. Why in the world could I not control myself? Is that too much to ask? I know what such kind of pressure can do to a child’s love for learning. Forget love for learning, I’m not even sure whether she learnt anything today. I usually forget most of the things that I learn under external pressure.

I walk to my room, cover my head in a pillow and question myself about my behavior. Somewhere in the middle of my thoughts, I realize that I have more important things to do. I walk back to Anusha’s room and hug her.
“I’m sorry sweetie pie”, I say, “I have been in a horrible mood today. But that is still not a good excuse for what I did. I know that you’re trying your best while practicing your music”
“I’m sorry Amma, because I don’t think I tried hard at the beginning”, she says.
“I think that you’re doing a great job”, I say to her. “It is me, I shouldn’t be so hard on you. Can you tell me one thing? Do you think you’re losing your love for music because I shout at you sometimes when you’re practicing?”.
Her answer to that question amazes me, “I enjoy everything that I do with you Amma, because I love you so much”.

We then discuss various ways other ways she could practice music. I try to convince her that she doesn’t really need me around when she is practicing. She could do it on her own and call me only when she needs me to clarify something for her. She doesn’t seem so convinced with this idea but she nods her head in agreement. We then hug each other again and I think to myself again – “I hope that day arrives when she starts practicing on her own”.
It’s not that I don’t normally enjoy being with her when she is practicing. But she is such an independent learner in most of the other things she does daily. And I’m hoping that her independent-mindedness will extend soon to her music too.

The music of childhood October 2, 2007

I picked her up from school and we came home. It had been a long day at work though I had spent only five hours there. Seeing her face eased my tensions a little. We settled down at home – she had her snack and her usual quota of TV, during which time I finished cooking dinner. I thought about the next couple of hours when I would spend time playing with her. She had been going for piano lessons during the past 8 months and I wondered how I could convince her to squeeze in about 10 minutes of piano lesson practice – I mean, real practice and not just playing around with the keyboard. She was falling behind some compared to her peers in the class but her teacher had assured me that she was doing quite fine considering that she was at least a year younger then the rest of the class. However, knowing how she always played with the keyboard during practice sessions, it was obvious that she would lag behind further if something didn’t change. Most of all, I was concerned that she would get upset that she was not able to play as well as her peers. After all she is only four years old. At that age, it is normal to get upset without realizing that you yourself are responsible for it.
I heard her calling me from her room. She said, she wanted to practice her piano lessons. I didn’t “trust” what she said, but we sat down anyway. To my surprise, she turned the page to the song which she was having trouble with – “ The Little Birch Tree”. She started playing it and went back and forth between the lines she could play well and the ones she couldn’t. I was quite impressed with her perseverance to get the song right and commented that she was doing well. She said, “Amma, I want to learn this song so that I don’t fall behind in class”. Knowing this was something I had said to her before, I thought that she might just be repeating what I had said. So, I asked her why she didn’t want to fall behind. She then reasoned “Because I love music so much”.
For her to say this and persevere in her practice was huge for me!! If there is one thing that I’ve tried my best to do – although I’ve resorted to these tactics a few times – is to not force her or bribe her to practice her piano lessons. I have always wanted the motivation for learning music to come from within her. This takes a lot of patience especially if you badly want your child to learn something. Today, I can say that I’m finding some signs of success in my strategies. As a parent who did a Masters in Education but never went to a classroom to teach, I needed some form of approval for my pedagogies. Now, I’m beginning to get some feedback through the actions of my daughter.