Recently, a reader named Liz asked the following questions in the comments to this post:
I would really love to hear more from you about what works when trying to teach your daughter. I’ve been puzzling over how I would go about teaching someone like Riley (I’m a violin teacher). Is there anything that has been done that’s really effective?
I was wondering if maybe giving her warning in advance would be effective (like, this week we’ll work on bow holds, next week we’ll work on tuning, week after we’ll learn a new piece of music, etc.). Then maybe getting the actual feedback wouldn’t sting so much?
Also, when does the anxiety bit kick in? Is it when she gets the instruction (move your fingers like this…), or if she doesn’t get that instruction quite right. Or is it more that she’s upset that she hasn’t been practising properly?
Also, you said that she experienced the same thing with learning the piano and then was able to pick up from watching you learn. Would it help if the teacher started showing you the same thing while she watched?
Again, I’m just throwing out the ideas that sprang to mind, I have no idea how well any of them would work (or how many have already been tried). I would love to hear your thoughts on the matter.
Liz, thanks so much for the questions. I’ll do my best to answer. First let it be known, what I am saying can only be applied to Riley, no broad sweeping generalizations about autism because the kids are all so different. Also, these are my observations in general on teachers, not just on cello.
The one essential thing to be successful when working with Riley is to do it in a spirit of love. This is tricky, because you can’t make a teacher love her. It can’t really be taught. She is a challenging child, and if a teacher is teaching to fulfil their own ego, they are going to quickly resent Riley, and resort to blaming her (or her parents) for their own failure. Believe me when I say no one is trying harder than Riley. No one wants to follow the rules and please their teacher more. A teacher has to have a lot of self-awareness of their own emotions, because your buttons will be pushed. If you are someone who says, “No. I’m fine. It’s my job!” And deny, deny, deny what you feel? You scare me. Because your words don’t match your energy, and that is very confusing for a kid like Riley. She may not read social cues well, but she feels energy, and a tight smile slapped over a seething face does not fool her. She reads loud and clear that in your opinion, she is the problem, and she internalizes this.
A teacher has to be more concerned with helping Riley achieve competence, than worried about their own competence. Teachers who are out to prove what great teachers they are don’t do well with Riley. Riley will stump even the most seasoned teachers. They aren’t going to get it perfect. This is what Riley is here to teach. She’s wired in a way which makes it impossible for her to conform to the old way of teaching. Even if she wants to! If you are going to be successful with her, you will need to stretch and grow. If you choose to expand, the rewards will be magnificant. You will experience euphoria. Much frustration along the way but oh the nirvana, when it clicks. And then it might not click the next time, and you have to accept that, and keep looking forward.
I was wondering if maybe giving her warning in advance would be effective. (like, this week we’ll work on bow holds, next week we’ll work on tuning, week after we’ll learn a new piece of music, etc.) Then maybe getting the actual feedback wouldn’t sting so much?
Advanced warning can work both ways. Sometimes warning just gives her time to ruminate! Picking one thing to work on, and only one thing to offer feedback about per lesson does sound like a good idea. It does not guarantee she won’t melt down over the feedback, but to limit it to one goal would be less threatening. She’s had lessons where she can’t get through a 20 second song without being corrected six times. Bow grip. Elbow. Placing of the fingers on the strings. Posture. Bow on string, etc. These tiny bits of feedback, were given in a loving and gentle way, but were still too much for Riley to process while attempting to play a piece.
What would work better is to have the teacher mirror her, and ask Riley to point out what the teacher is doing wrong. Make it a game. I correct you. You correct me. Make it light hearted. Go OVERBOARD with wrong posture. Be breezy. Music lessons tend to be so very serious.
Also, when does the anxiety bit kick in? Is it when she gets the instruction (move your fingers like this…), or if she doesn’t get that instruction quite right. Or is it more that she’s upset that she hasn’t been practising properly?
The anxiety bit is her baseline. If you were holding her hand, walking down the street, you would be surprised how often her body flinches over typical everyday sensory bombardment. Your hand would get squeezed out of fear, more than you can possibly imagine. This is Riley, keeping it together, minute by minute throughout her day. Now add the grave seriousness of music lessons. It’s “important.” Now add a processing delay, that gets forgotten about because she’s so darn smart. You give an instruction, and just as her brain starts to make the correction, you give another, and another and what you really need to do is just stop talking, and give her a minute to process the first thing. Have you ever had a lot of people talking to you all at once and you just want to tell them all to shut up! One at a time please? I imagine this is what too much rapid fire feedback is like for her. Only she can’t tell a grown up to shut up. What she can do is scream and hide under a table. I don’t think she is upset because she hasn’t practiced properly, I think she is just overwhelmed in general at her lessons. And she’s a perfectionist. A teacher can’t match Riley’s perfectionism with their own perfectionism. That will sink a lesson every time.
Also, you said that she experienced the same thing with learning the piano and then was able to pick up from watching you learn. Would it help if the teacher started showing you the same thing while she watched?
Yes. She would learn from watching me, if I were so inclined to learn the cello. I am frankly burned out from having to be at every single lesson of anything she has ever taken for the last ten years. This mom has never had the pleasure of cheerily dropping off her kid at cello, martial arts, clay class, gymnastics, dance, piano, a friend’s house, violin, Girls on the Run, any activity ever. I have to be there and I have to be “on.” If I have to take the lesson myself, it is hardly worth paying someone else to teach her.
So, the main things I would say are check your ego at the door. Use less words. Three compliments for every correction. Rediscover your own sense of joy, and share that part of you with your students.
Teachers are incredible people. I love when teachers want to learn. I love when they are interested and ask questions, and want suggestions. As painful as it is, I also respect when they admit they are in over their head. Riley’s cello teacher is a warm person, who is really used to teaching cello a certian way. I believe she could have been successful with Riley because her heart was in the right place and she had a lot of self-awareness. Her ego was not the problem. (She might have developed a twitch not being able to correct Riley’s bow hold!), but I know she could have done it.
The thing is, there is an excellent music therapy program we believe will suit Riley’s needs better, so that is our next move. I’ll be posting more about that later.
A final thought on teaching. It isn’t a downloading of knowledge from a wiser person to a less wise person. Think about the really good teachers you’ve had. What was happening? It felt fluid, didn’t it?
My friend Zoey makes jewelry out of “found words” in vintage books. She was delighted to discover the Sanskrit symbol for “teaching” is the same as the one for “learning.”
Teaching/learning.
Learning/teaching.
They are co-creative endeavors.
