Piano Keys That Opened Doors: How Piano Education Changed My Worldview

Six years ago, I stepped into the New Tampa Piano and Pedagogy Academy for the very first time. Armed only with my exceedingly basic knowledge of Hot Cross Buns, I knew that I was in for a ride. Originally, I had nothing but the most grand aspirations– I wanted to master the Moonlight Sonata, and maybe even a Chopin Nocturne or two. Little did I know that I would end up learning far more from my piano classes than just these classic pieces. 

 

Through my time at the academy, I've learned resilience. I think back to the group class before my very first recital, and the all-consuming fear I felt at the idea of messing up in front of all those people. My hands trembled at the very thought of it. As I shakily started to play for the class, I knew that I wasn’t doing my best. My teacher must have noticed, and she stopped me. “When you get on stage, you’re not going to play perfectly,” she said. Slip-ups are inevitable. She warned me not to overthink one mistake and ruin the rest of the performance in the process. The most important thing is to acknowledge what happened, and then move on. I've been able to apply this timeless advice not only to my performances, but throughout other areas of my life. I know I cannot expect myself to be perfect all the time. So, when I end up making a mistake, whether it be academically or in my personal life, I try my best to learn from it. Then, without dwelling on it too much afterwards, I pick myself up and keep going.

 

In the same way, I've learned the importance of feelings over technicalities. After one particularly robotic rehearsal of a sonatina, I looked up only to be met with my teacher’s disappointed expression. I remember being a bit confused– hadn’t I managed to play the piece perfectly? I knew I hadn’t missed a single note. That day, she reminded me that the audience probably wouldn’t have known whether I’d played the notes flawlessly or not. They would have understood, though, that it wasn’t genuine. People don’t really care about what's written on the sheet music. What we truly remember at the end of a performance is the way it makes us feel. This is a lesson that I first applied to playing the piano. I let go of the fear of making small technical mistakes. Really, the biggest mistake is to let this fear stop you from performing with emotion and expression. But I've carried this idea with me throughout my personal experiences, as well. I often find that in order to really connect with others and make a difference, it's not enough just to be correct. It's even more important to convey your message in a way that people will understand, connect to, and remember. 

 

It’s true that my time at the academy has instilled in me a lifelong love for music and the piano that will remain with me for years to come. But for me, piano education has always been about much more than the instrument– it’s been a major catalyst for my personal growth. These specific, small pieces of advice have stayed with me, and have transformed into life lessons that ultimately changed the way I see the world. Thanks to all these years of hard work, and the unwavering support of my teachers, I’m proud to say that in the end, I have not only grown as a pianist, but as a person, as well.