Sink or Swim

Satisfactory Essays
At the expiration of sixth grade year, my piano teacher ceased giving lessons. I’d been taking piano since second grade; I wasn't ready to give it up. My mother said she would look into a new teacher, but ninth grade rolled around and I still had no teacher. That Christmas I got a box, similar in size to a microwave oven that contained a manila envelope. Contained in that envelope was a letter saying that guitar lessons would be every Saturday from noon to twelve thirty. This was my mom’s solution to finding a piano teacher. “Thank you for the lessons mom, but I think they made a mistake. This letter says guitar lessons when it should say piano.” “No, it’s correct; you’re taking guitar lessons.” “I thought you said I couldn't attempt another instrument until I was proficient at piano?” “Yes, I did, but as I couldn't find a teacher within a reasonable distance, I decided to let you try another instrument. Guitar seemed like one that you’d like, and I already have one.” “That’s great!” Saturday came, and my lesson began. My teacher opened with the notation used in sheet music. He moved on to guitar tab after finding out that I already read music. I found tab to be simple, so we moved on to a beginner’s song book after about five minutes. I would play the notes, and he would play riffs, rhythms, and occasionally bass to go along with my part. After playing a few different variations of a song, we moved on to another selection. Before we knew it, the time was eight till one; the lesson was supposed to end at twelve thirty. Other than that, everything had gone perfect. I had learned the whole first chapter of the book plus a few songs in the second. The next couple lessons went just as satisfactory as the first. At about the thir... ... middle of paper ... ...r the opening guitar, I would've missed my part. As soon as I hit the first chord, an E minor, the spectators were gone. It was just the band, my guitar, and me. The sensation of nausea evaporated, and I had a blast. Introducing each song with cleaver prologues, the singers were great at interacting with the crowd. For me, the end came much too soon. At the following guitar lesson, my teacher said he was pleased with the performances. He told me that he was aware that the songs were difficult and that the other musicians were of a much higher caliber than I was. He purposely “threw me in the deep end of the pool” to see if I would sink or swim. I feel that my playing improved faster in that setting because I couldn't fail. If I did, that would've let the others down. This coming summer, I hope to try it again, but this time, I will take on more challenging parts.
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