The Piano Lesson(s)

A mild diversion and yet not

Photo by Jordan Whitfield on Unsplash

I’ve been dragging you (inviting you?) along on the story of my life, reader, and yet I have not even once given you a glimpse of my life as a piano teacher. Perhaps it’s because I never sought an identity as a music teacher. I’ve seen myself instead as a mother, a reader, and now rather shyly, a writer. And yet, here we are 40 years in. Piano teaching has become such a part of my life I give it little thought except while I’m engaging in it.

When I was brand new to teaching I taught a line-up of elementary students in a private school one day a week who cycled into a room designated for piano lessons. I wish I could remember just a single student or a memory from that time. But outside of remembering that I brought a thermos of coffee because I tended to get sleepy during the day I cannot recall much.

At Life Action however, I had one quite memorable student. His name was Danny, and he was the son of our founder, Del Fehsenfeld. The lesson was conducted in his parent’s A-frame chalet overlooking Clear Lake. We probably only had three or four lessons and then schedule prohibited anything further. What I remember primarily was him being a pleasant young man of about 16, and that he really wanted more than anything to sing on one of the teams but was too young. As I look back now, I realize Danny was interested in music, but he was a performer at heart. Of the lessons I remember little, but he would often burst out of the door of the chalet afterwards singing something at the top of his voice. His spirit was indomitable and he was not in any way intimidated by his own performance, even though it was on those occasions primarily for the audience of nature-at-large.

I didn’t think much of this until years later I discovered he’d moved to LA and pursued work as an actor and musician, performing his own original song at the Crystal Cathedral, and doing voice-over and acting work in dozens of productions. He made a name for himself recently by winning the SOVAS Body Of Work-Best Voice Actor Award. He’s a warm, encouraging human being that I’m proud to know. His father’s untimely death perhaps pushed him out of what might have been a pre-selected path into his own destiny. I couldn’t be happier for him. I don’t think I did him much good, but I like to pretend I did.

Fast forward that 40 years. This week I taught another young man his last lesson. He’s graduating high school and moving off to college where I’m certain he’ll be involved in the arts. He was one of my drama students first, then Jim’s piano student. As Jim was sick I subbed for the lesson. He was preparing his recital piece for which he had prepared to company himself as the soloist. He has made remarkable strides learning complex music quickly and tackling difficult pieces with gusto. He has a sweet tenor voice, and he had learnt the accompaniment quite well except for a nasty passage that was giving him trouble. He was concentrating on the piano part and softly singing the words to himself, so I suggested he sing or read me the words, as I was unfamiliar with the song. He read me the words. I asked what prompted him to choose it, and he explained that it was performed by his favorite artist at the moment, Laufay. I don’t know really anything about her work but this song is dynamite. Here are the lyrics:

“Letter To My 13 Year Old Self”

Don’t you worry ‘bout your curly hair
Clothes that don’t quite fit you anywhere
Voices echo in the gym, another girl’s had her first kiss
Please don’t think too much of it, darling

I’m so sorry that they pick you last
Try to say your foreign name and laugh
I know that you feel loud
So different from the crowd
Of big blue eyes and long blond hair and boys that stare

But baby know that

You’ll grow up and
Grow so tough and
Charm them
Write your story
Fall in love a little too
The things you thought you’d never do

I wish I could go back and give her a squeeze
Myself at thirteen
And just let her know
Know that she’s beautiful

Keep on going with your silly dream
Life is prettier than it may seem
One day you’ll be up on stage
Little girls will scream your name
The days of tears and failure fears and no one cares

Will all make sense, ‘cause

You’ll grow up and
Grow so confident and
Write your story
Fall in love a little too
The things you thought you’d never do

I wish I could go back and give her a squeeze
Myself at thirteen
And just let her know
Know that she’s beautiful

I instantly felt like a 13 year old girl wishing someone had sung this song to me. I told him so. It was a beautiful, poignant song. I felt glad to validate his musical journey. I urged him to write a letter to his future self and place in it all his aspirations snd dreams. I hope he will. As I look back, I wish I could have given Danny the same gift, but it seems that along the way someone did. I’d estimate I’ve taught upwards of 15,000 lessons over my total career. Some lessons, even if a one-off, last longer in the memory than others. It’s a privilege to sit beside a budding musician and push them forward even if it’s only an inch. I’ve been blessed.