a question of quitting
February 2, 2017 § 2 Comments
There is no greater measure of truth than the weighted minutes of nervous anxiety on the eve of a much dreaded day. One year ago it was a time for my daughter to confront self-doubts and insecurities as she procrastinated preparing for her band solo by sounding out the language to quit. Not one for standing alone under a spotlight of attention, I understood her pause and kept her company as she waded more deeply into her discomfort.
Last year she found the notes among her nerves and conquered her fears in a messy and brave posture of determination. This morning my daughter woke early to another performance, but this year’s ghosts were dressed in last year’s doubts. Two nights ago she unraveled into a memory from last year’s experiences. One new to my ears, but well worn in the quiet of my daughter’s thoughts. Her teacher, counting out a song, begged a question. My daughter asked why the pattern was different to which her teacher asked, “Don’t you even know how to count?”
It was a criticism in place of a question, a small condescension that directed quiet and silenced my daughter’s learning. She didn’t ask again and has since created her own cues to find her place in a collective melody. As part of a whole, she has disappeared in the silence between notes, but on her own she is lost in the sequence of unanswered questions. Without answers to fill what she does not know, she is certain only in the deficit she measures in doubt.
Such a small space between learning and letting go, wanting to grow and giving up.
Last night I listened as she fought her way through her sheet music until she had exhausted whatever joy might be had from each success. It’s a sad truth, a weighted reminder – our answers invite questions just as clearly as our questions invite answers.
One person has the power to inspire or intimidate.
My daughter wants to quit as much as she wants to play, to learn as much as she wants to leave. For all the words of comfort and empathy I’ve offered, the balance of my encouragements and another’s criticism rests in the silence somewhere between the music.
scribblechic 
As bad as the teachers attitude was Marie, it will at least give your daughter a very big boost of courage and strength when she goes through it because of what she (and her mom), has endured 😀
I hope it all turns out well 😀
It was a good day, a difficult experience with unexpected kindnesses.