Amy Writes

About 8 years ago, I picked up my first piano students. I was employed full time, but one night a week I snuck out a few minutes early and took my bag of tricks to a beautiful home where two sweet little girls were waiting for me. It was my first taste of teaching, and even though I had no idea what I was doing, I kind of liked it. It was also my first introduction to East South Florida kids in the 21st century. Well mannered, respectful, privileged...but over-committed, highly ambitious and stressed out. Before long I had two more students, and then two more...until my studio grew to 20. Now only officially employed part time, I had time to devote to planning - games, competitions, recitals. We were active, and the kids, over-committed though they were, were energetic and making progress. When Chloe was born, I let most of my kids go. I worked my way down to one afternoon a week, with four of my original students. I've written before about this arrangement and about how much I l...

Tomorrow is Tuesday. For the last 5 years, Tuesday has been a synonym for frustration in the Dictionary According to Amy. Because for the last 5 years of Tuesdays, I have taken a deep breath, unlocked the front door, put on my Gracious Piano Teacher hat and assumed my position to the right of the bench. Every Tuesday, some combination of four precious girls (very rarely all four in one week) ambles through my front door. They collapse onto my red, overstuffed sofas or land with a thud on the bench - nearly always uttering one of the following phrases: "Okay. I just have to tell you. I had 173 tests and 9 birthday parties this week." "Okay. I really really practiced this week. Really. I had, like, 20 minutes between my sabre lesson and highland dancing class." "Okay. I've been out of town for like a month and there are no pianos in Papua New Guinea." "Okay. I would have practiced, but I left all of my music here at your house which is five minutes...