“Do the best you can until you know better.

Then when you know better, do better.”

Maya Angelou

If you have stumbled upon this blog and are not familiar with white supremacy culture, I highly recommend pausing to read the below resource before moving on: 

White Supremacy Culture by Tema Okun

Some of you may think, “Wait! But I don’t have any white supremacy in my piano lessons!” White supremacy culture is “reproduced by all the institutions of our society” (Tema Okun). Yes, all. It is the idea that white people and their ideas, thoughts, beliefs, and actions are superior to those of BBIA (Black, Brown, Indigenous, and Asian) folks. 

In other words, characteristics of this culture show up in everyone and in all fields.  

The piano pedagogy sphere is not exempt from this.  

As stated by Brooke E. Trapp, “The main goal of the traditional private piano lesson setting is to build skills that will lead to fluency in important classical repertoire.” One specific way white supremacy culture shows up is in the dominance of Western Classical music in all aspects of music education. It is at the top of this imaginary hierarchy that worships dead white guys (i.e. Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, you name it) and their styles. Any music style that does not lead back to the D.W.G. or fits the rubric of this Eurocentric framework is considered inferior or what I have heard from actual musicians' mouths - “not real music”. 

The Piano Pedagogy Sphere

We are not going to sugar coat it here. The central focus of traditional piano lessons, piano curriculum, piano exams, and pedagogy resources lead learners up to the typical conservatory piano performance major who must be proficient in all four styles of Western Classical music (whose performance repertoire mostly consists of white men). The reality is that the majority of “traditional piano teachers'' are classically trained due to the structure of music conservatories which uphold the Western classical canon. Jazz? Hiphop? Rap? Lofi? Nope, they don’t belong in those institutions.

Some of these kinds of teachers are insistent on ensuring learners play the original edition of “Fur Elise” (preferably the Henle edition) and they internally rejoice when their learners are at a level where they can finally learn a three-part Bach fugue...even if that same learner has rarely played a blues scale in the lesson, has no idea how to aurally recognize pop chord progressions from a song on the radio, cannot improvise from a guitar chord chart to save their life, thinks Indian classical music is “weird” and refuses to learn any music that doesn’t have traditional sheet music with it.

There is nothing inherently wrong with studying classical music but when we imply that Western tonality is deemed the standard musical theory language and when we want to justify clutching onto pieces from minstrel show history or insensitive stereotypes of our BBIA communities as part of our piano method curriculum because “it has a good teaching concept”...we definitely got some work to do. 

Eliminating white supremacy culture in the traditional piano lesson goes much deeper than choosing to incorporate a ragtime solo by Scott Joplin as a fun piece on the side or learning how to play a Billie Eilish song from a solo piano transcription. Many of us may unknowingly carry these tenets of white supremacy in our practice. To be clear, you are not a white supremacist if these cultures show up in your strategies. But as 21st-century music educators who are guiding future leaders of the world, now is the time to get out of the bubble of “I only teach music”. Our world is rapidly shifting and so are our students. Piano education has no excuse to be stagnant, irrelevant, and exclusive.

A Brief Background

When I first learned of white supremacy culture, my mind immediately connected the traits to the experiences and memories I have of taking and teaching piano lessons. 

That is concerning.

I have taught piano lessons to hundreds of learners of all ages and levels for more than a decade. I have taught both privately and for other music schools in the past. I have also observed dozens of piano teachers and have seen many of the scenarios I will describe later happen before my eyes. When I substituted for piano teachers working at studios, I also had a chance to look through their assignment books to grasp an idea of what other teachers were prioritizing in their lessons as well as ask learners what their typical lessons were like. These are the experiences I take with me as we outline these traits of white supremacy culture. 

As part of this lifelong journey in becoming antiracist in my piano teaching, I too am learning to identify what this explicitly looks like in my teaching and how it can be dismantled. I am fully aware that this is a process that requires consistent reflection of my privilege, my power, my bias, and my prejudice. There is no participation trophy for this work.

When analyzing these connections of white supremacy culture to traditional piano lessons, this explains:

• why some traditional piano lessons from teachers who design their curriculum around Western Classical standards do not interest every single child.

• why former piano students now in their adult years feel like they “have not learned relevant music” when all they wanted was to play songs on the radio. 

• why I still hear “horror stories” of seasoned piano teachers still holding onto their faithful, “tried and true” ways.

A “well-rounded” piano education tailor-made for a child’s unique needs and talents is still possible without these traits of white supremacy (and let’s also mention that one’s personal definition of “well-rounded” can have roots in Western classical tradition).

The purpose of this series is to spark critical conversation, welcome discomfort, encourage inner reflection, and push for necessary change. The first tenet we will dive deep into is perfectionism. 

Buckle up, y’all. 

Perfectionism

No human is perfect. But some of us were told that “practice makes perfect”. 

From my training, observations, and experience, I have come to the conclusion that most traditional piano lessons are set up with the goal of achieving this “perfect performance” model - to be able to memorize all notated music accurately as if young learners need to be trained to be musical carbon copy robots. Although some instructors may claim that their teaching philosophies are to help learners “find joy and pursue excellence in playing the piano”, it is not always clear if the learners themselves can reiterate those goals without prior knowledge of the teacher’s stated intentions. Is it evident to the learner that music excellence is not to be confused with perfectionism? 

Tema Okun points out how when mistakes are made in this perfectionism model, they are often seen as personal. Young music learners, who learn in an environment that upholds perfectionism as the only form of “true musicianship”, start to value their own worth as a music maker based on their personal views of how they perform. The teacher is fully responsible for shaping the learning environment to be a safe and brave space but instead, some teachers expect their learners to do all the dirty work of perfecting notes and rhythm in preparation for the lesson. This unrealistic expectation for all kinds of learners also provides unnecessary anxiety.

As a child, I remember when I had a lesson where I was drilled the same section over and over again. I don’t remember the particular piece because all I could remember was how stressful that lesson was. I couldn’t remember if it was the fingering, my tone, the accidentals…I just recall that I couldn’t “get it” right away. What I do remember is that the teacher told me “you need to keep practicing”. The first time I knew that the phrase “practice makes perfect” was a false statement was the day of one of my first piano recitals. No matter how many hours I practiced at home prior to the big day, I still would have performance anxiety the day of the recital. I would almost never play it the same way I did in lessons. I then based my musicianship as a music maker on that one day. All because my 45-second performance was not “perfect.”

Let’s talk recitals. It is ingrained in our learners that the “best” performances are the ones where they can never make a mistake with no help from sheet music. Teachers spend weeks training learners how to not blank out in the middle of a performance. That could mean guiding learners on how to start from any random measure, performing in front of stuffed animals and family members to help cope with anxiety. Although these have potential to be helpful strategies, it continues to perpetuate the unrealistic perfectionist idea of product over progress. 

Perfectionism in a traditional piano lesson even for our younger learners can look like this: 

• Requiring memorization of a piece without help from sheet music.

• Demanding complete note and rhythm reading accuracy at all times. If it’s not on the page, it’s not what you should do.  

• Following every little single tempo and dynamic marking and not using your own personal interpretation of the music. 

• Giving awards, accolades, and utmost praise for those who can do the above.

• Having little to no acknowledgment of progress. 

• Focusing lessons on steady beat, correct rhythms, accurate pitches and correct musical term identification.

• Telling students to “keep practicing” until they can no longer make an error at home. If they happen to make an error in the lesson or in the future practice time due to just being a pure human, learners are told to “practice more”. 

And what do we do if the pianist keeps making the same mistake? We simply say “practice more” - even if they have spent hours on the same piece. “Oh it’s the WAY you’re practicing.” Then a diagnosis is created to ensure that learners find a way to perfectly remember every nuance they learned in music lessons for one short performance.  Let’s not forget that in a typical recital, the only people who will notice forgotten musical nuances (like a crescendo for half a measure) will most likely be just the teacher and the pianist.

I have seen performance rubrics that rate how many “errors” a learner has made or think a performance is “the best” based on memorization. One music exam I know of only qualifies certain pieces to be worthy for the state convention if it is memorized, regardless if the learner played it artistically and accurately for the judge. This requirement also upholds an ableist view that perfectionism in memory is only worthy to be featured as the “the best of the best”.

If mistakes were made in a previous performance or in a lesson, productive reflection often is not a part of the traditional piano lesson format because the excuse given is that more time needs to be spent on “real musicianship skills” like technique and Western music theory. Teachers resort to saying statements like “Play more in front of friends” or “We’ll just make sure we start learning this piece earlier”. Interestingly enough, these same teachers who claim there is little time for this reflection component may have the tendency to focus a good chunk of their lesson time on identifying and correcting these same mistakes in the lesson until the error has magically gone away from muscle memory. Or worse - they dismiss the learner’s efforts and say to “just practice more” without explicit instructions on how to change up the practice session to address that specific error. 

Antidotes

• Speaking on what was done well before giving constructive criticism. Reframe corrections into “I wonder” statements. (“I loved how you phrased the end of measure 6 there. I appreciate how you understand how to do that in our lessons. I wonder if we can think of more ways to keeping the beat steady in this section.”) 

• Reconsider how your teaching perpetuates ableism by requiring all learners to memorize, regardless of their unique learning needs. If it is not mandatory, then it is just a personal preference. (“I see that you play more confidently with your sheet music in front of you. Let’s have you put it in front of you, just in case you need it. It’s okay if you need to read from it for the performance.”)

• If the learner stumbles, have you taught them to keep going until the end? How do you react to the learner when they make a mistake? Is that the only thing you focus on and assign? 

• Model and normalize making mistakes in front of learners whether that’s sightreading a challenging section or performing in the recital with them. (“Oops, I missed the sharp there in our duet together! Oh well, I will circle that and make sure I watch for that the next time we play together.”) 

• Consider the time you have in the lesson before critiquing the mistake. Will working on “correcting” this mistake take up most of the lesson when you could show them other ways to discover their true musicianship? How can you build more independent skills in the learner so they can figure out their personal practice plan? 

• Intentionally carve out time in the lesson to reflect on flops. If there is not enough time in the piano lesson, have learners write a few sentences or draw a picture on their reflection in their assignment book. Discuss how these mistakes can lead to growth in becoming a better musician. Show stories or videos of musicians with “imperfect” performances. Ask the learner what they wish to improve on and brainstorm action steps together.

• Be clear with what is “passing” to you as the teacher when it comes to the learning material in a method book. Did they keep going? Did they at least curve their fingers (if that is a skill the pianist has been working on recently)? Was the learner able to fix the mistake during the lesson so is it worth assigning that same short piece again for the third week in a row? Could your time honing in a song that the learner will start to dislike due to its repetition be taking time away from other essential musicianship skills?

• Determine if bragging about your learners’ perfect scores from previous music exams is what you want to be known for as a teacher and a studio. If your website and social media feed worships excelling in these exams, what message does it give to inquiring piano students who would not do well in testing situations or are not interested in learning piano this way? What implicit message does it give about piano lessons overall? Have your piano students expressed anxiety over state testing at school and how does that affect your decision in using exams as the curricular focus of their piano education? What are other ways you as the piano teacher can track their growth as a musician with ways that do not fit the perfectionism model? Have you communicated with the parents on how you monitor progress instead of the ultimate product? Are your progress reports based on rubrics that hold excellence as essentially perfect playing?

Perfectionism is only one trait of white supremacy culture. In part 2, we will look at sense of urgency. 

Questions for you

If you took/are taking piano lessons, how have you seen perfectionism unfold in your experience?

If you are a piano teacher, what are other ways we can dismantle the perfectionism trait in piano lessons?