Kai’s First Piano Recital

It is a testament to Kai’s overall progress that my wife and I decided to let him perform in a piano recital. But it speaks to how far he still needs to go that we were very nervous about how it would turn out.

Kai has been taking piano lessons for over four years now. When we first decided to sign him up for lessons, I think my wife was hoping that he would turn out to be a piano prodigy. At that point in Kai’s development, with his struggles in behavior and school, I think she was hoping to find something that he would be particularly good at.

Alas, Kai did not possess extraordinary talents at playing the piano. And in the subsequent months and years, there were several times when my wife wanted to stop the lessons as Kai too often resisted practicing, gave his instructor a difficult time, or just goofed around instead of playing nicely. I didn’t want to see him quit; not because I thought he could ever become a virtuoso, but because I hate to see him quit at anything.

With a little encouragement from me, but mostly from rebuilding her own resolve, my wife pressed forward each time with teaching Kai how to play the piano. The teacher came over once a week and patiently taught Kai how to play. But I have no doubt that my wife’s persistence and instruction during the week was just as much of the reason for Kai’s progress.

Two years ago, Kai’s teacher held a recital for his students. At that time, we did not want to take the risk of signing him up to perform. But we nervously attended with Kai so we all could see what it was like.

At that recital, we weren’t sure how long Kai would sit still so we talked to him about proper behavior, and then grabbed a seat near the back in case we needed to make a quick getaway.

Almost immediately as the first child started to play, Kai started to fuss.

“I can’t see!”

I tried to shush him but he persisted. When that child finished playing, we got up out of our seats and found an open area near the front, off to the side, where we could sit on the floor and clearly see the performer.

And there we sat where Kai politely, well, mostly, watched the performers. He had done okay watching. Perhaps one day he would play.

This year, his teacher asked if we would like Kai to perform in the recital. Hmm, could he handle the pressure? Would some little thing set him off and cause a public meltdown?

We decided to go for it.

He chose one of his favorite songs to play, Night of the Tarantella.

The practices in the past couple of weeks gave us more cause for concern. My wife was constantly pointing out the things he needed to do better.

“The first part is staccato; you have to play with more force.”

“Don’t play too fast.”

“Don’t forget to press the pedal.”

“Hold the last note for five seconds.”

Kai doesn’t take criticism well. He gets angry when anyone points out something he is doing incorrectly. And so, these practices have been stressful. And as a result, our stress about what would happen at the recital grew as well.

The day of the recital finally arrived.

This morning, Kai was grumpy at his ice skating class, complaining that his ankle was hurting. When he came home, he barely said much to his grandmother who telephoned. He later got upset when he thought he lost a piece to a new game he got for his birthday.

All the makings of a disaster were in place.

After lunch, we drove to the site of the recital and got there a few minutes early. Kai got a chance to try out the keys and pedals of the unfamiliar piano.



He would be the fourth performer. Kai sat nicely as he listened to the first three kids.

And then it was his turn…



He did well. Ha, he even held that last note!

My wife and I simultaneously breathed a huge sigh of relief and beamed big smiles.

Great job, Kai! We are very proud.