Today, I picked up a recorder and blew
a few notes.
A recorder is a very basic, beginning
instrument, requiring little skill and talent to produce a simple
tune. They are usually used in classrooms around 4th
grade to introduce children to the fundamentals of creating music.
For some it is nothing more than a past-time, and simple thing to
learn and reproduce the sound asked of them. They put it down and
carry on, continuing to appreciate music at a distance . For others,
it is a trigger. A small glance into a world of possibilities. A
fire maybe, and a desire to learn more.
I have not played music in over 10
years. I was able to participate in a choir in church for a short
time a few years ago, and that was a small slice of heaven in
adversity. Singing was once my passion, and I was reminded of it as
I lifted my voice, in however small a way.
I have wanted nothing more than to have
children that had talent to sing. I have wanted it so badly that
hearing other children sing instantly brought tears to my eyes and I
couldn't listen anymore. I have been trying very hard not to project
my own desires on the children and just let them grow and be
themselves. I would never want them to think that they had
disappointed me by not having musical talent. I know it's something
that is inborn more than learned, and I don't want them to think that
they would ever be not perfect in my eyes. So I have waited. I know
that I taught myself to sing, and taught myself the beginnings of
music and theory. I have always played music, and we have sung silly
songs together, and I try to not be nervous to sing in front of them.
Always listened, always paid attention, trying to catch snatches of
them singing to themselves, hoping that I will one day hear one of
them lift their voice in song and feel that fire as well.
I think however, that I am approaching
this wrong. I have been able to ignore music for years without it
bothering me, but as soon as I was able to reproduce a simple tune on
a simple instrument, my heart ached for 11 years of silence. It
took a great amount of effort to return the recorder to its box and
continue with the nightly banality of supper. I think I need to take
that fire, and start it. It will be up to them to kindle it within
themselves, but I think we need to jump in and try it out and see if
it catches.
For all my love of homeschooling and
curriculum and gathering materials for the kids to learn both from
me, and themselves, I have not even once tried to plan out music
lessons. In fact it was my husband that insisted we get the
recorder for the kids to try. I have almost no resources at my
disposal besides that recorder, a box of percussion instruments, a
dilapidated piano, and a guitar that I can barely play. And my
voice. But I have decided not to ignore that need to create music.
I will take out my guitar, and however long it takes, get it tuned.
I will print out music and practice and teach them and show them, and
we will sing together and feel the exquisite conjunction of notes
sounded at the right time, in the right order, and the right pitch.
