Sunday, May 13, 2012

Teacher Appreciation Week: Ms. Y., My First Violin Teacher

The first full week of May was Teacher Appreciation Week in the U.S. I appreciate the impetus to think back on my violin teachers. It’s just hard to write something that can do them justice, which is why the whole week went by without my doing so! It took me the whole week just to draft this set of memories of my first violin teacher.

My first violin teacher was Ms. Y. She taught strings in my hometown school district, and she quite literally taught me how to pick up the violin for the first time in fifth grade. After I started private violin lessons in ninth or tenth grade—I had never had any other sort of music lessons outside of school—she was still my orchestra conductor at school until I finished high school.

Those of us who started instrumental music as fifth graders (typical in our school district) had weekly lessons in groups of four or five students. I believe that each lesson lasted thirty minutes, and we met in a windowless interior room with cinderblock walls. There was just enough time for each of us to play a couple of short (one- or two-line) pieces we’d been working on, get a little individual coaching, and then practice as a group on material for the following week. Looking back, I can’t imagine how she got us through all of that—plus tuning—in such a short time!

Every time I offered up my ¾ size rental violin for her to tune, Ms. Y would exclaim, “Hi, lady!” or “Hi, Miss TR!” and “How’s your kid?”—"kid" being her universal nickname for everyone's instrument. She found praise for everything we played, and established an elaborate reward system for learning our short little pieces. If you played your assigned piece well enough at the group lesson, you earned a happy face sticker in the margin of your music. For every ten happy faces, you earned the candy bar of your choice. I always chose a Nestle Crunch bar. (Just writing about it makes me want to have one—haven’t tasted one of those in years!) I think the happy face system only applied to fifth and sixth graders, but it really got us to practice. Maybe parents these days would quibble about junk food, but at the time, I never heard anyone question it.

I don’t want to romanticize Ms. Y's policy of spending her own money on stickers and candy bars for her students, which she did over the course of decades. Too often, public school teachers are either spoken about like saints for their sacrifices and selflessness on behalf of their students, or spoken about as lazy parasites who care nothing about their students if they want more compensation for their work (or want to actually collect the compensation promised to them when they signed up for the job). (The Daily Show has handled this contradiction brilliantly.) Spending her own money to encourage her students to practice was just part of who Ms. Y was; I have equal respect for other teachers who found different ways to encourage us.

Many of Ms. Y’s students followed the same path I did—taking small group lessons with her in fifth and sixth grade, then taking “Orchestra” as a class from seventh grade through the end of high school. When a bully in junior high left notes in my locker from a fake secret admirer, or when another bully paid a boy $5 to grab my butt in P.E. class, or any other thing that made junior high feel like torment, orchestra was a refuge. Ms. Y made me—and all of us, I think—feel understood and valued. Frankly, even though I had a wonderful family and trusted circle of friends, orchestra was sometimes the only part of my daily routine in junior high and high school that did not stress me out, bore me silly, or involve constant fear of impending humiliation. At a point when I had the opportunity to switch to a different high school in our community that might have offered a better social and/or academic environment, I refused to consider it—that school did not have Ms. Y.  

So: Just one of the teachers to whom I thank my involvement in music, and all that it’s done for me, is Ms. Y!

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