She started me at the age of five. She made sure I practiced an hour each day when she was home (when she wasn't, I would lie that I had practiced when I had really just sat there playing songs I already knew). I was like the little girl from Joy Luck Club who just "pretended" to practice and took advantage of her mom's inability to properly read sheet music. I just didn't care for it, but I did it because it was expected of me and no matter how much I begged my parents to quit, my mom took charge and unrelentingly refused.
I am actually one of the few kids out of my Asian group of friends growing up who made it through years of piano practice and was still playing my senior year of high school. I cannot describe the sublime joy I felt when I was finally emancipated from the piano.
We didn't have the best of beginnings. Nobody ever taught me the notes, I just remember being yelled at to keep my hands in an apple shape, pretending I was holding an apple while I played. when I saw a note, I looked towards the number above it and played whatever finger corresponded with it. These numbers, I would come to learn, were the suggested positions of which finger to use, not the actual notes. The pretty notes below it just danced around for me - I had no understanding of any music theory. When I played a wrong note, my piano teacher would hit my hand, and muscle memory would kick in. I didn't understand the different counts for each note, but the teacher would play the songs and my ear would pick up the melody and I'd mimic it.
I eventually had to "start over" so to speak, learn all my notes, learn to read sheet music, and play the actual notes instead of the number positions. I went on to play the piano for thirteen years. I participated in the California Certificate of Merit program from levels two through advanced, and through a compromise with my mom, no longer had to play the piano after that.
Despite being pretty good at the end of my piano life, I still suck at reading sheet music. I can sit there and figure out the beats that get translated with each time signature and note, but I do not have the ability to purely sight read and play the way my husband plays. I don't have any desire to sit at my piano to play anything, unless I want to impress my mom and bring a smile to her face. It taught me patience, how to do something you hate and not be half bad, but we've parted ways and said our good-byes. The piano is just a distant memory of something my mom made me do everyday.
And yes, my kids will be playing the piano. And practicing an hour a day. And too bad, mom and dad both know the piano and will know if they're just fooling around. Poor kids.
Start 'em early right?
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