Splish Splash

July was a rich month, pedagogically speaking. While I didn't make it to the biennial Suzuki Conference at the end of May, I did teach at two Suzuki institutes in July. While I was there to teach, I couldn't help but be inspired by my colleagues. The colleagues who inspired me have many, many years of experience. Some are Suzuki parents or even grandparents. A short list of the ways they inspired me: They...
-helped me stick to my convictions both musical and pedagogical
-opened my mind to new ways of thinking and acting and to new pedagogical and musical ideas
-forced me to think outside the box (or to explore that box a little more carefully)
-listened to me and offered sincere, down-to-earth advice and feed-back
-played music with me
-discussed pedagogy with me and one another
-offered respect, support and compassion to those around them
-behaved in the true Suzuki spirit in and out of the lesson studio
-allowed me to observe their inspired teaching
-gave my young daughter their patience, friendship and enthusiasm

I could easily go on, and in light of the pedagogical boost I received, I am very excited to be teaching at a third institute later this month. I'm sure I'll have more to learn.

All this said, I had some surprising pedagogical revelations in a completely different arena this past week. My 2.5 year-old loves the water. I've been taking "Parent and Tot" swimming classes with her since she was an infant. The most recent class (of five consecutive days of 30 minutes a day) ended a few days ago. The teacher did NOT impress me at first. During the first class, she exhibited an off-putting brusqueness I had not observed among my daughter's previous swimming teachers. Also, she kept looking away from us (the parents and tots), and toward the pool office, or some far-off location. It was weird and unnerving. Also, when first introducing herself to my child, she asked what her name was. My daughter, being 2.5, doesn't always answer in a full and articulate voice when interrogated by a stranger. She mumbled her name, keeping her hand in her mouth. In an echo-y pool environment, the teacher heard nothing and retorted: "You have a name, don't you?!" I was pretty taken aback. I did, though, keep my cool, and made an effort to reserve judgement. My daughter was pretty clingy (not a word I like...) during the whole class, and asked for her previous teacher, several times. This was just the first class, maybe things would improve.

During the course of the week, I did notice encouraging changes in both my daughter AND the teacher. The teacher seemed to relax a great deal. She also told us, that without her glasses, she had trouble reading the clock on the pool's wall, and therefore had trouble telling what time the class should end. (That could explain her shifty gaze on the first day.) What I noticed most, however, is how subtly my daughter adapted to her quick style of teaching. She (my daughter) displayed a HUGE leap in independence in this class, compared to the last class she took earlier in July. I realized that this teacher had some pretty strong priorities in what she wanted the children to be able to do. She clearly WANTED the tots to progress and evolve over the course of the week. While my daughter's previous teachers have been sweet, kind and ever-smiling, they haven't really pushed my daughter very much. Now, I realize the goals of these classes are to give the child ease and enjoyment in the water, so concrete, achievement-type goals are not really de rigueur, but I found it refreshing to have a teacher who had clear objectives for the children. And, in the end, those objectives would lead to them enjoying the water more, and learning to swim and be safe in the water. As a result, my daughter grew very fond of this teacher, talked about her at home, and though she found some of the tasks difficult, and a little out of her comfort zone, she made true efforts to accomplish them. Among these, was putting her face in the water -- which she did manage to do by the end of the week, if only for a few short seconds. She also improved dramatically in her back-floats, bubble-blowing and going underwater. I was thoroughly impressed with such dramatic progress in such a short time-span.

I am not sure that this young teacher -- who is going into her final year at university in politics and something else... I forget -- had necessarily thought through her pedagogical approach. Or had she? She told me that after university, she plans to attend teacher's college. She wants to be a teacher. And, she already is a teacher.

So, after this month of pedagogical vitamins, what do I take away? What do I add to my toolkit? Sure, I've accumulated several new tools for my teacher toolkit. But, it's as a parent that I've learned the most. Above all, I've learned to allow my daughter to learn from others, unhindered by my re-interpretation of their words. Unless the (pool's) acoustics truly prevent her from hearing the teacher, I will keep my mouth shut. She and I have already refined our communication skills. What she needs from me, is my silent, supportive presence as she refines her communication skills with others.

We're definitely signing up for swimming lessons in the fall.

Renewing the Commitment

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about the priorities in my life. The conclusions I've reached are pretty simple, on the surface, but scratch a little, and the hard truth about matching our intentions with our actions become apparent.

At the end of March, a fellow Suzuki violin teacher and I organized a workshop for our two studios of students. This is an annual tradition, one we both look forward to, since it not only inspires and recharges our students, but our own teaching as well. One of our guest teachers is a woman from Quebec City. She lives and teaches and raises her two young daughters there. She and I went to school together, and took Suzuki Pedagogy courses together in grad school. From chatting with her during the week-end, some things became clear to me about what is important in our relatively short time on Earth. This woman has a 3-year waiting list for students, she also teaches her own two daughters violin, something I swore I'd never do... but wait... the day after her departure, I started teaching my 2-year old. We've practiced every day for a month now -- no exceptions -- no matter how tired, run-down or impatient I felt.

Back to my epiphany. I decided to make a list of what is really, REALLY important to me. Here it is:
Music (making music, teaching music and finding happiness, employment and fulfillment through music)
Exercise
Healthy food

Absent from this list? TV, facebook, doing housework. Well, it's not like I won't ever watch TV, check in with fb or do laundry, but, if I don't keep what's REALLY important at the top of the list, the other, less fulfilling items will creep in and take over my life.

Hence, the violin lessons began with my young daughter, the morning after my colleague hit the road for la Belle Province. I've also made a commitment to be more involved with the musical groups I play with. I had been feeling overwhelmed with the job of being a mother, and had been somewhat neglecting my involvement with these two groups. While my daughter will inevitably come first most of the time, I can also make the time not just to practice, but to be truly involved. Also, I've been selecting pieces to practice on both my modern and Baroque violins. Keeping up my chops between concerts feels good, sets a good example for my daughter, and is fun! (Now, if I could only practice during nap time, without waking her!)

What I learn from babies

So -- I have a 9-month old baby girl. And, keeping up with her is taking all my energy. I have so much admiration for parents of more than one child. That said, it is endlessly fascinating to watch her navigate and negotiate her physical surroundings. She loves to pull herself to stand now, and will try to do so using ANYthing she deems appropriate -- a shelf, table, toy, person, drawer knob... Sometimes, thwarted, she cries... out of frustration, I guess. Other times, she is more patient with herself, or at least, seems completely unfazed by multiple failures at standing attempts.

As I observe her efforts (and rush to her aid to prevent or kiss the inevitable bumps along the way), I am reminded just how easily we adults are defeated by defeat itself. How many times have I said: "I really can't draw. I stopped taking Art after 6th grade."? (For the record -- I really CANNOT draw...) My point is that, we adults, and, sadly, many children too, put limits on ourselves. Sure, some of us are more "gifted" than others in certain areas (more about *that* in future posts, I'm sure), but, IMHO, I think more often than not, we are simply too afraid of failure to even TRY! So, I'm going to keep trying to learn new things, starting today!

I really want to get better and more confident at getting my baby on my back. I have a long woven wrap, which I have been experimenting with for months... I will continue to practice getting her up there... It's harder that I imagined... my baby likes to wiggle!

As my baby gets her bearings in the world, I am learning to get mine too.