Good Things

In the beginning of this semester, we received a new student in 4th grade who became a third addition to my violin group. I was a bit crestfallen when I discovered that her skills did not match up to her classmates and my hopes of having a quartet (with me playing the cello) wavered. But I pushed on. I had her come in for intermediary sessions between classes twice a week, for 15 minutes.
We learned the strings of the violin.
I taught her notes on the treble clef.
I taught her rhythms.

But I learned that she has a different learning system--things don't fire quite normally in her brain. My roommate (the learning specialist) told me about the concerns they had for her in her regular classes -- a learning disability of some sorts. So I tried different ways of teaching her.

We wrote the finger numbers.
We wrote the beats.
We clapped the rhythms.

And today, she got it.

Well, not perfectly, but leaps and bounds from what I had to work with at the beginning.
She claps the rhythms perfectly.
She counts perfectly.
And her notes are almost there.

It wasn't easy. There were times when, after repeating an instruction 3 different times and her still not getting it, I thought to myself, "What am I getting into?" But then her mom would talk to me and ask how she was doing, and I, reluctant to let her go, told her her daughter could do it.

I believed it.
I believed in her.



Later, I talked to another violin student about learning an instrument. In the beginning, it's always hard work and it sounds bad. But just like waiting for a good meal at a fancy restaurant takes time and effort, playing a new instrument well takes time and effort. And beginning violin is definitely not McDonald's. "Good things are always hard work," I told her.

"I feel like that's a lot like life," she said.

She got that right.