There is a subject I cannot really share on my blog: how to motivate people to practice. I don’t want to share because I am afraid people will not believe me when I try to tell them to practice, they will think I am just using a trick. I am not using any tricks. Barely a method, if one can call it that. I am convinced that if someone makes the effort week after week to come to my studio, to bear my French accent and pay me for all that, it is because they want to learn the instrument I happen to be teaching. I am convinced that if I can part with a word or two of wisdom on how to approach the way to get to their goal, I am simply doing my job.
My secrets are more in the delivery. I try to be light instead of dreadful, inspiring instead of pedantic, enthusiastic instead of heavy and passionate instead of monotonous. That is where the secrets lie. I am, after all, in the business of making someone understand how to practice regularly and with as much attention to details as possible. I am also in the mission to build a set of musical rules they can follow whether they study with me or someone else or on their own. More importantly, I am here to tell them that I went through exactly what they’re going through when they feel their motivation wobble. I am here to hold their hand and walk with them. And I do. I really do. Every single one of my student, I try to walk in their shoes, be with them in their struggles and doubts. Studying the piano or the drums is an incredibly difficult task that ask for time alone, for questioning, for dedication, for follow-through, qualities not emphasized by our distracted digital world.
That is probably my biggest secret to motivate people: to try to understand them. Also, to accept them as who they are: magnificent, noble but flawed, Just like me.