Inspired By Excellence!

Warming up on the piano prior to a recital.

All parents know the feeling—the feeling of anxious anticipation which is experienced when your child is performing in some way…your child is about to speak in front of the entire school, step onto the baseball mound to throw the first pitch of the game, or sing a part in a musical. Of course, we don’t want our children to know how nervous we are for them, nor do we really want other parents to notice either… and, isn’t it always the case that, as we are trying to reign in our nerves, another parent struts by, head held high, confident that their child will more than succeed (“what? Me be nervous for __________ [fill in the name]—How silly…this is no big deal…” —though, in my experience raising three children, these parents often care far more than they are letting on, but, hey! That’s a blog for another day). But, back to the nerves—that fluttery feeling in your stomach…the feeling that you can’t sit down, or sit still… that tension which is felt in your joints… oh, dear!

I was feeling all these sensations the first time our daughter was to perform a piano piece in front of an audience. Now, mind you, she was six years old and feeling none of them! She was just impatient to get on stage in order to demonstrate to the world what she could do. Nerves? Not! Those were allotted to me! I truly didn’t let on how nervous I was for her. She was in the front row with the other children – seated according to their order in the recital. Mark and I were situated so that we could watch her fingers (as all concert goers do when they care about watching a pianist, or budding one, as the case may be).

The Play for Peace Perform-athon at the Kimmel Center in Philadelphia. Children played on Steinway’s Peace Piano to raise money for the Red Cross.

As I sat awaiting the recital (why, oh why do these things always take forever to start…), as the butterflies in my stomach threatened to take flight, I had a certain amount of perspective… I knew how very silly it was to feel nervous for my daughter. First, she had practiced and could play the piece quite well. Second, she was six, just six years old. If she completely forgot her piece on stage, she would recover quite quickly. More than likely, she wouldn’t be the least bit upset, and even if she was it would be put aside as soon as the reception started (hey, there were cookies and punch!). Third, in the grand scheme of things, or even in the smallest scheme of things, what did it really matter whether she played the piece well or not? These thoughts were calming… but, then along came the fourth one, and this realization really didn’t help matters at all: if I thought this little recital was nerve-wracking, what would I do when she played much harder pieces as she advanced? Oh dear—this was the first of who-knows-how-many—plus—we have—two-other-children—performances! Oh no! The nerves kicked in something fierce! UGH! Why do I have children who like to perform? Geez! I am not cut out for this life!

After a recital– note the cake!

She stepped onto the stage—so pretty in her favorite blue dress– she sat at the Steinway grand, so small, yet so determined… she was playing a duet with her teacher who was seated at another grand… and, with a nod of her head, she let her teacher know that she was ready to start. Head bobbing as she counted a measure to choose the tempo, they began….

Now it is a beautiful memory, with many similar added to it… at varying levels of success. There have been times when the music got the better of her, and she stumbled, and other times when her fingers have flown expertly across the keyboard. Recitals, talent shows, fundraisers, church functions, orchestra concerts… through all these events, we have witnessed the fruits of our daughter’s practice.   These experiences have translated to other areas of life– she has learned how to work hard, set goals and achieve them, thereby gaining self-confidence, poise, and self-esteem.

Award ceremony for auditioned recital.

Do I still get nervous for my children? You betcha!  As uncomfortable as it may be, however, those butterflies are worth it.