How The Piano Changed My Love for Learning

Nothing special compelled me to start playing piano -- just my childhood best friend (shoutout Emily Barksdale ) mentioning she’d started taking lessons during a second-grade recess chat. Days later, my mom signed me up to see how I’d fare.

Over time, I developed a love-hate relationship with the piano. My teacher, Ms. Roberta, presented me with older, more classical pieces she cherished dearly, such as “The Entertainer,” “Fur Elise,” and “Can’t Help Falling In Love,” among others. While I can appreciate these musical masterpieces now, I struggled to connect with them at age eight, making practice feel more like a chore than a fun after-school activity. I had no say in what I played and learned every piece using Ms. Roberta’s favorite method: left hand first, then right, then put them together.?

By seventh grade, I could no longer prioritize practicing among the competing demands of academics and athletics. One day, rather than taking my usual seat at Ms. Roberta’s piano bench, I told her this would be my last lesson. Tears welled up in my eyes as I uttered those words. Although I didn’t perceive this as a sad decision, it took a surprisingly emotional toll on me. In retrospect, putting so much time and effort into something only for it to end on a random Tuesday afternoon didn’t sit well with me.

Nevertheless, life went on. The piano in my house went untouched for two years. I never thought about playing again -- until my parents talked about selling it.?

Their reasoning wasn’t invalid, but I couldn’t imagine them selling something that marked such a prominent part of my childhood. I wanted to keep it, even if it simply represented the untapped potential of my once musical abilities.

The selling rumors were enough to lure me back to the piano one night, wondering if I could still play after so much time away. After messing around for a bit, I strung together the melody of “Wonderland” by Taylor Swift. Once I had the melody down, I looked up the chords and figured out how they fit together. Within three hours, I memorized that song and two others, and by midnight, I could play them all blindfolded (yes, I tried). It all came flooding back to me that night -- my command of the keys surged through my fingers as if it had never left.?

Since then, the piano has become my refuge, captivating my hours between school, sports, and sleep. Rather than inducing my stress, playing now serves as my primary source of stress relief. You’ll often find me sitting before the keys after a rough day or before a big exam (probably hitting them a little harder than I should be). I’ve expanded my musical repertoire immensely, with songs like “Landslide,” “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,” and “Piano Man” by none other than the piano man himself. I’ve never found myself more giddy than when I hear a new song and have an instant desire to learn it on the piano. Without the structure of lessons, I’ve never been a more avid student of the instrument.

I never missed proving myself at lessons nor the stress of practicing. Rather, I missed the overlooked feelings the piano fostered -- those of creating something with my own two hands and surprising myself with my own abilities.?

Having autonomy over what, when, and how I played forever changed my relationship with the piano. My skills progressed more in my years of self-motivated discovery than they ever did during my weekly childhood lessons. The piano sparked my discovery of a raw, vulnerable way of learning foreign to the average classroom setting. This change of heart encouraged me to share my talents with others, bringing me into nursing homes on Sunday afternoons and to the Chicago airport for a mini-recital during a massive snowstorm. Rediscovering my passion for the piano has given me more than just a lifelong skill; it has given me the creative freedom to take this universal instrument and make it uniquely my own. I couldn’t be more grateful.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to ditch the keyboard I’m typing this on for one known to bring me much more joy:)