Last Minute

Ms. Melina

Society tends to give the notion that quitting is for the weak. It is an embarrassing thing that people should not do. A great dollop of shame with a pinch of disgrace. Glittered with mortifying judgment and a touch of humiliation.

“All you do is just cry!” Mrs. Linda shouted from her desk across the room. She is mad because Himawari came unprepared.

They meet regularly once a week, but it has been a while since Himawari did not attend a lesson. Her anger doubled when she found out that Himawari did not practice enough.

“I want to quit,” said a shaky voice with tears streaming down uncontrollably.

This is the first time that Mrs. Linda has heard that.

If you quit on the process, you are quitting on the result they say.

It is a fact that impressive results can’t be achieved overnight. That is why quitting is part of the process. The difference is when you quit and don’t do anything about it.

Mrs. Linda did not know the musical journey that Himawari had endured before they met. She was also unaware that her spoken words during teaching hours fed into the negativity. Quitting is not a personal trait. Circumstances are a pain in the butt. Himawari was at the point where she couldn’t take it anymore and quitting is the best solution… for now.

Nothing is worth it if you aren’t happy. Himawari reminded herself of that over and over again. She fell in love with music long enough that she couldn’t remember the beginning. All the beats and rhythms that she heard from the radio cassette player made her pants want to dance. Facing the piano since she was 4 years old, performing and entertaining people with her piano playing is one of her happiness.

Mrs. Linda was in her mid-30s when Himawari met her. She was not that old but her understanding and concept were inherited from an old-fashioned type of teaching. Strict. Perfect. Mistakes are sins. Not practicing means laziness. Wrong notes equal hand-slapped by a pencil or a ruler. Wrong answers equal stupidity. She would compare Himawari to others, yet each kid has different abilities and learning behavior.

Himawari came from a family that did bribes and rewards so their children would do things that pleased their parents. Where playing wrong notes during practice time equals being not good enough for playing music. Where scoring 60 out of 100 equals embarrassment. Where being opinionated about something is equal to rebelling. She was struggling to read the magical symbols and complicated counting stressed her out. She trained herself so hard that she could produce beautiful sounds from both hands. She put herself under so much pressure that it made her cry after her performance during the piano competition because she played the wrong notes which the audience did not notice. She made it to third place and it was equal to doubts that her family gave her: What did the judge see in you? How could you win third place when you did not practice?

Nothing is worth it if you aren’t happy. You did your best and they just did not see it that way.

2 years after Himawari quit Mrs. Linda’s lesson, she came back to learn music again. She took all the examinations and requirements just for a piece of paper to show and declare to everyone that she passed and succeeded in learning music.

She learned from Mrs. Linda that she does not want to be a teacher like her. Her former music teacher in elementary, Mr. Abraham, inspired her. His words resonate very well through her music education, “To learn music is to learn how to love.”

Himawari would like to be a better music teacher. Not just for her students, but for her children and grandchildren too.

She put emotional investment into making learning music better. She sees and realizes that every child is unique and that their gifts are special and deserve to be developed and celebrated. With teaching, she learns to love without condition, to give without any reason, and to care for people without any expectation.

It was late. She did not realize the time because she was busy sorting out documents. She closes the fallboard and made sure to leave every room locked.

“Good night, Ms. Himawari”, said Tanaka, the receptionist. She walked down to the parking lot, opened the car door, and stared at the sign on top of her office building.

Himawari Music School