Practice
Katherine D. Bennett
(First published in the Lathrop News October 22, 1998)
I am troubled today, and I guess I just need to let off some steam. Indulge me, please! Once a week, I take my two children and our little friend, Elizabeth, to St. Joseph to the college for piano lessons.
We have a great time together, and the lessons seem to be going very well for everyone. I think it is good to expose our children to a variety of experiences, if it is within our means, and let children find out what they love to do and what they are good at doing.
Anyway, most every week, during our lesson times, I have witnessed a mother siphoning the joy Out of her child. It breaks my heart, and I wish there was some way I could express what I feel in some socially acceptable way.
This is what happens. Every week, a mother, accompanied by a toddler and a very small girl around five or six, marches and charges into a practice room to have a final practice, before the little girl’s lesson. There is a space beneath the door, so the entire practice session is public, whether or not a person wants to witness it or not.
Mind you, the mother never screams or abuses her child by swearing; she is just a relentless perfectionist, The child is endlessly drilled on meaningless finger excersises, every mistake is fully noted. The mother is quick to criticize and praise is delivered in rare, short after thoughts. Very soon, the toddler becomes bored and whines and cries. He is sharply reprimanded. Last night the little girl defended him, but the mother insisted he be still and quiet. The drilling goes on. As an adult, I couldn’t be asked to drill so endlessly, and I have a degree in music, and fully understand the dedication that the craft requires. When we leave, the child is, usually, still being held captive in the practice room.
I love music, I want my children to experience the satisfaction I have from producing my own music, but never at the price that is being exacted from this child. Perhaps I have read the situation wrong, but I don’t think so. I think that this mother is trying to satisfy her own needs through browbeating her child. I don’t mean to be harsh, I just think that is the way it is.
Unfortunately, this is not common. This abuse happens in sports, in academics, in homes, in church. It comes from well-meaning parents, it comes from loving parents, it comes from monster parents. it comes from an adult not facing his or her own demons, disappointments and shortcomings. I can’t be too critical, because I see the impulse in myself to insist that my children become what I could not. I fight it.
Even though I would love for my children to vindicate all my struggles, my children belong to themselves, and to God. If they don’t love music like I do, if they don’t enjoy writing and reading like I do, if they are very different than I am, it has to be okay. I can insist that they do their chores, that they brush their teeth, that they eat their vegetables, that they behave in a certain manner at the dinner table . I can tell them what I believe, be the best example that I can manage, I can model responsible behavior. At this point in their lives, I choose where live, what they have for supper and where we worship.
Still, they are not mine to control as I wish. They will choose who they will marry, where they will live, what their vocation will be and whether or not they will continue to eat vegetables by choice. I will not force feed them. I will trust them.
I said a prayer for the little girl in the practice room last night. I prayed that music will stir her soul, and that she will be brilliant and satisfied with the life imposed on her. I prayed that way so she will not feel wasted if she chooses another path in life. I prayed that way because I love music, and I hate to think that it could be a burden to a child.