In the beginning of the school year when I was nine, all eighty or so of us in the 4th grade were shepherded into the cafeteria of our Northern California school for three hours of musical evaluation (well OK, maybe it just seemed like 3 hours to a nine year old). Our well meaning teachers informed us that a series of scientifically proven tests would reveal our musical talents and we could then be given the musical opportunities our various talents demanded.

I was ecstatic. Up until then I had lived in Southern California and music had meant lots of singing and lots of fun. I sang hymns in our church choir, Gilbert and Sullivan on my Grandfather’s lap, and silly songs with my family in the car. At school, music was singing and dancing in large circles with huge parachute like squares on the playground. Being only an average student – to this day calling me mathematically challenged is an insult to those who actually are – I thought here was a test on which I could finally come out at the top of the class.

Back to the cafeteria: We were given little cards with rows and rows of numbers and bubbles along with brand new yellow no. 2 pencils. Someone turned on the sound system and a voice told us to find the patterns of beats that we heard. Were they groups of 2 or 3, 3 or 4? Electronic beeps ensued followed by total confusion.  Where was the music? The beeps were in patterns that may as well have been in groups of 42 and as far as I was concerned were absolutely from Mars.

The ending to this story is that I was the only child out of the entire 4th grade who was barred from orchestra, band, and chorus. My parents were advised that I should never try to learn a musical instrument. Results showed I had absolutely no affinity for musical study. This scientific musical evaluation has had several opposite effects other than those anticipated by the authorities.

The next week my parents went out, bought a piano, and started me on the piano lessons I had been begging for since I was 3. Today I am, so far as I know, the only person from that 4th grade class who pursued a career in music, I possess an irrational dislike of elementary school cafeterias, and I am definitely the only person from that class who was president of a state music teachers association, served on the board of a national foundation, teaches piano at the college level, or writes a blog dedicated to all things piano.

Over the years, I have realized that, even at age nine, I knew what music really meant.

 

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