Speaking my daughter's language

August 15, 2006 at 7:50 PM

I frequently wonder out loud whether my three-year-old daughter, Kiera, is really my child. Supposedly she's a lot like my husband was at that age, but since he's changed a lot as he's aged, I can't decide for myself if this is true. Meanwhile, I sometimes feel as if I'm sharing a home with an adorable alien creature with a vivid imagination, who has an infinite source of energy and speaks a language no one else comprehends.

What does this have to do with violin? She clearly has interest in the instrument; she was the one who begged to start lessons, though I would have waited a couple more years. But supervising her practice sessions is so often a frustrating and painful experience. She has her own opinions about what constitutes good posture, how one should hold the bow, and what makes a good sound, and they're frequently different from mine. Whereas I, as a child, was always respectful of authority---if an adult told me to do something, that was reason enough---with Kiera everything requires justification. And if she doesn't feel like doing something, she ain't gonna.

My husband and I have contemplated stopping her lessons, and this month her teacher's on vacation so it gives us some time to figure out what to do. Perhaps it's because I don't feel as much pressure to prepare her for a weekly lesson, but I've slowly begun to experiment with teaching styles and come up with a few winning ideas.

Kiera has a keen sense of empathy, and she anthropomorphizes everything. Her camping flashlight is her stuffed cow's sister. Her blocks become the students in the class she "teaches". Big things are "Mommy" and "Daddy"; little things are "Kiera", and tiny things are "Kyla" (her 1-year-old sister). Indeed, she lives in a world I don't comprehend.

I can, however, try to speak its language, and this has met with reasonable success in her practice sessions. I used to scold her for playing short, scrunchy bows, asking for long, slow bows, but to no avail. Now I ask for "Mommy bows, nice long Mommy bows." She responds, "No Kyla bows?" No, I say, no Kyla bows.

The strokes get longer, but they're too fast and the bow goes flying over the fingerboard. "SLOW Mommy bows, Kiera. Slow, like a snail. We don't want cheetah bows. Do you know what a cheetah is? It's a big cat that runs very, very fast." The lesson is interrupted for a bit of zoology discussion, and we resume. "Okay, I want Mommy snail bows. No Kyla bows, no cheetah bows. Just nice, long, Mommy snail bows, ok?" Finally, I get what I'm looking for.

Now it's time to practice the first finger. Over the last few weeks, "Mommy" has taken on two meanings; "long", when referring to bow strokes, and "open A", when referring to pitch. "Daddy" is the first finger B, "Kiera" is the open E, and "Kyla" is the first finger F#. I ask her for an A-B-A-B pattern, but she just wants to play the open A. "Kiera, if you don't play any Daddy notes, he'll be lonely and sad." She may not want to struggle with her first finger, but darned if she'll be responsible for Daddy being sad. The first finger goes down. "Okay, now I want you to do Mommy snail bows, playing Kiera-Kyla-Kiera-Kyla."

The rational, sensible, adult side of me feels a little ridiculous, but how can I complain when it works? She's learning the technique, with far fewer quarrels than before. I've come to accept, if not understand, that this is the way she relates to the world. Asking her to put her toys in the bag does no good. "They're NOT toys, Mommy, they're FOOD, and I need them for my PICNIC!" Well, I say, let's put the food back in the...uh, refrigerator, so it doesn't go bad. She ponders this for a moment, then the toys go into the bag. Likewise, I need to give her a reason for playing her first-finger Bs. Daddy will be sad and lonely if she doesn't.

And somehow, via the circuitous path through her brain, the information gets through. It's not uncommon to hear her singing herself to sleep, to the Twinkle melody, "A A E E F-sharp F-sharp E!" She'll get where I want her to go. Even if she insists on taking the scenic route.

From Tara Dutcher
Posted on August 15, 2006 at 8:05 PM

As a former preschool teacher, I take my hat off to you. It certainly sounds as if you DO speak her language after all.

She sounds like an charming and clever little girl. And you sound like a wonderful and patient mama.

From Emily Grossman
Posted on August 15, 2006 at 10:31 PM

As a former preschooler, I can attest that she is now entering Musicland! It's so fun...

From Sydney Menees
Posted on August 16, 2006 at 3:08 AM

Kiera is really smart, I promise. It was so cute when she was singing the Twinkle Theme like that! And yes, I remember all her kids ;-) She's absolutely adorable.

From Jim W. Miller
Posted on August 16, 2006 at 3:31 AM

The first paragraph reminds me of a woman I used to know who would say "None that I know of" if somebody she was meeting asked if she had any kids. Made funnier by the fact that she could be slightly "disturbed" sometimes.

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on August 16, 2006 at 6:40 AM

Karin, you have a lot of talent for understanding and communicating with Kiera. She is not an alien being in your home. She sounds really cute. I'd love to hear her sing Twinkle as you described.

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on August 16, 2006 at 6:43 AM

I hope you two don't take the analogy too far. How would you explain B flat to her?

From Karin Lin
Posted on August 16, 2006 at 6:44 AM

Thanks for the nice comments, everyone. Tara, Kiera is indeed charming and clever, but I'm not sure I'm a wonderful and patient mom. I'm working on it, though!

Pauline, come here and spend an hour with us, and then you can tell me she's not a crazy alien. :) And I hadn't thought about B-flat and F-natural yet, but they may end up being something like "tired Daddy". Tonight we decided that C# and G# were Kiera's stuffed cow and Kyla's stuffed giraffe, respectively, so I'm sure we'll be able to define more characters as we need them. And I'll try to capture her Twinkle song and upload it to YouTube for you.

From Jacqueline Crute
Posted on August 17, 2006 at 4:44 PM

As the mother of 2 violin students and a former pre-school teacher, I can certainly sympathize with your current situation. My older daughter started Suzuki lessons at 4 and my younger daughter started at 3 3/4 years old. The key for those early years is patience. From reading your blogs, you already know all of this but I just thought I'd let you know that it is very common. I thought my older daughter would either give me gray hair and be the start of a drinking problem. She didn't argue about practicing or going to lessons, she was just very easily distracted and silly. It was more fun to crawl around on the floor than to play peanut butter cracker or Twinkle. Her teacher even tried having her wear socks that were velcoed to her foot chart. She proceeded to hop around the studio while playing the violin.

To make a long story short, she is now 14 and loves the violin. She has finished all of the Suzuki repetoire and is working on the Wieniawski Concerto in D minor and the Bruch concerto. My 11 year old is half way through Book 6 and likes the violin more than she would publicly admit. I am not sure I would have pictured it 10 years ago, but it has been a very memorable journey. We are still part of a Suzuki group and I am frequently asked to talk to new parents about what it means to have a 3 or 4 year old violinist. I have found it to be much more of a test for the parents than the child. As long as the parent is patient and doesn't have unrealistic expectations, the child will progress at his or her own pace. Graduating from Book 1 is as much an accomplishment for the parents as it is for the child. Maybe I should point out that our group requires that the parent attend the private lessons. As a non musician, i have learned a lot over the last 10 years. At one point I could sing all of the notes for all of the songs in Book 1. My children are grateful that I no longer have to sing what they are playing. The one other piece of advice that I have is to make sure that you involve your husband in the practice sessions. That alone has probably saved our sanity. My husband has a musical background with the piano and took quite naturally to the violin. He kept up with the girls until about Book 4 and can still do simple duets with them if necessary. Our group also requires parents to take several lessons before their child starts so that they understand how hard it is to play the violin. I got to about Long, Long Ago as my piece, so you can see my playing abilities are quite limited. By taking turns with the practice sessions and lessons, if one of us was having a bad day the other could pitch in.

I hope this helps and look forward to reading more about your adventures with your daughter.

From Karin Lin
Posted on August 17, 2006 at 7:51 PM

Oh, Jacqueline, thank you so much for that post! I laughed out loud at the picture of your young daughter hopping around the studio while Velcro'd to her foot chart. That's precisely the kind of thing Kiera would do. And I admit that I have doubts sometimes about whether I'm doing the right thing for my child; my husband is one who hated the piano for a while because of the constant fights with his parents about practicing, and yet I also know many older children and adults who are terribly grateful that their parents didn't let them quit. I believe, and hope, that my method of forcing practice but doing it in a way that makes it as much fun as possible, will cause her to remain interested long enough to truly make these decisions for herself. The fact that my husband and I are both musical (though he's not a violinist) seems to help a lot, as she is constantly surrounded by music and sees us practicing ourselves as well. But it's both comforting and encouraging to know that these crazy, distracted, willful toddlers really can grow up to be mature musicians. Thanks for sharing your story.

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Speaking my daughter's language

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