Graduation Recitals

Mary has been gone a week.  My mom is bringing her back tomorrow.  I miss her.  In spite of the ukulele life is very quiet here without her and Bill.  Bill comes home tonight, but leaves again tomorrow morning.  Some things have become apparent this week.  Much of the laundry is Mary's.  She is dirty.  Her clothes get dirty.  And the house stays very clean without her little "Schmoo Dumps."  That is--when she just dumps out the whole drawer or cabinet to find whatever she is looking for.  Calvin keeps busy without her. He has the crayons organized by color with little rubber band holding all the tickle-me-pinks together and all the dandelion colors together.  He has written out a dissertation about the history of crayola and the different colors that came in each type package--since 2001 of course.  They are lined up in a grid on his bedroom floor.  It is really time for her to come back--for his sake as well as mine.  She keeps both of our OCD's in check.

When she gets back, we are going to start practicing in earnest for her Suzuki Piano Book 2A Graduation Recital.  Probably we will be ready by the beginning of October I am guessing.

In the next two weeks I have six of these graduation recitals.  From Book 1 to two Sophomore recitals--that is for Cassy and Aidan who have graduated from Book Seven, but still need landmark occasions to celebrate their progress.  Anything worth doing is worth doing right and anything worth doing is worth reflecting upon.  Why do we do this?  Why do I give up my weekend and evening time to celebrate with these kids?  I have talked to countless teachers who have told me that they could never take the time to attend their students graduation recitals.  To me, this is what it is all about.

The gradation recital gives the student a goal to work toward and always, always, the end result is growth.  Not everyone has to do it the same.  There are no Suzuki Police to come and tell us we are doing it wrong. Some kids play all the songs, some play selections, some play 100% from memory and some use the music for a few pieces.  Each student is unique and thus should be treated that way.  But no matter what, the student grows.  And the parent grows.  And the teacher grows.  I will always be learning to tweak how much material and how difficult I can push a student and still keep it positive.  To find that fine line between bringing out the best in them and losing them.

Before the recitals I always say the words, "This recital is a celebrate of the student's progress.  It is not an examination, he has already graduated.  This is the celebration."

I also happen to love seeing the child in his own home.  (I like to at least have one recital in the student's home, even if we have future recitals at my house.)  I love visiting with family members.  Getting to know the parents and grandparents.  I love Grandparents.

One of my families has a very rich legacy of football.  When I am at a graduation recital in their home I imagine a gathering of professional football players chumming around there and then I think about the grand piano now in the living room and the young children sharing their music.  That makes me smile. I think their Grandfather would smile too.

I think about a graduation recital where the young girl was dressed up for the recital and ready to go, but decided to take a barefoot run around the lake to burn off some nervous steam moments before the performance.  That freedom moved me.  Wouldn't we all like to take off running before a performance.  Then bow and away we go.

Sometimes the parent serves shrimp cocktail and sometimes it is a package of Oreos.  Occasionally the mother needs a glass of wine. . . I just bring the programs and the trophy.  And we celebrate.  The child and the music.  In that order.  I wouldn't miss it.