Music runs deep through my family tree. My maternal grandfather was a violinist and I will always have wonderful memories of my grandmother, and later my uncles, my sisters or me, accompanying him on the piano, while everyone else in the room sang along. The talent carried through my family: each of the nine of us took piano lessons; several of my siblings taught themselves how to play the guitar; we have sung in choirs and for weddings, taught piano, performed in bands and school musicals and I did my undergraduate degree in Music.
How is it, then, that my children appear to have so little musical talent? Neva refused to practise when she took lessons years ago and Willa shows next to no interest in lessons at all. But let's look at 11-year-old Milo. The boy, as much as he loves to sing and dance, is completely tone deaf. So when he chose the clarinet as his instrument in music class last year, I was less than excited. He squeaked and squawked his way through Grade 5 and eagerly brought his clarinet home every other weekend. (I was always relieved when his interest in practising vanished as soon as he walked through the door.)
Fast forward now to Grade 6. He is a "role model" for the younger students in his split class and was asked to demonstrate, with another classmate, what he has learned in music so far. But he had to brush up over the holidays. So Milo arrived home that last day before Christmas with his clarinet and his music book. He immediately went to his room and began to play. And play he did - seemingly non-stop, for days leading up to Christmas. His excitement was admirable, even if it did frequently interrupt conversations. (As in, "Who wants to hear me play?" or, "Mom, Mom! Listen to this!") Not only did he practise the two songs he was assigned, he also moved forward in the book teaching himself new notes and new songs. And on occasion he managed to produce a lovely tone amid the cacophony.
Bob and I were quite pleased to see this enthusiasm for practice, given our previous experience. Those squeaks and squawks leading up to Christmas were his and he was proud of every one. And we were thrilled. We were even more thrilled, of course, when the excitement of Christmas arrived and he traded in clarinet practice for playing board games and visiting with family.
Ahh... Peace on Earth!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.ca
