The Childhood Music That Shapes Who We Are
From bedtime lullabies to choruses. From piano lessons to band. Making and sharing music carries through into adulthood, sometimes in unexpected ways.
by Daphne Berryhill
Music has meant so much in my life. Not as background noise but as a never-ending soundtrack. The sappy kind. The edgy kind. And everything in between. I can rewind back or listen now as the future turns present. It never stops playing.
Lately, classical piano music has been filling my head and home. It’s probably becoming part of my kids’ soundtrack, paired with memories of their mom in the kitchen, sometimes toiling, other times puttering. But for me, the music takes me back to my 80s childhood in suburban Chicago. Or, more specifically, to an 1850s Greek Revival on 7 W Eastman in Arlington Heights.
Each time I entered the Arlington School of Music for piano lessons — even on days I didn’t want to go — I left feeling filled with something new. Something I wanted to stay with me.
After climbing up the extra steep and long staircase, I’d sit on the colonial bench in the landing waiting area while tapping my feet until my teacher, Kimberly Schmidt, would pop open the door, usually walking out with another student. Next up, it’s my turn.
Usually dressed in cords and Sears-grade buttoned-up shirts, it amazed me how someone dressed so plainly could have such presence. Kim exuded joy and calm. A total contrast with the material 80s, obsessed with signaling wealth and symbolizing status. Kim had his own vibe — a version of “you do you, and I’ll do me” that was refreshingly rare then.
As I learned beginner versions of the classics — from lively Mozart to melancholy Beethoven — I chopped up each song with too many starts and stops to count. Kim encouraged me. “It’s OK, keep going. This is how you learn.” And learning to play piano is really hard. So I kept going and moved through Kabalevsky’s 30 pieces for young people.
Sometimes Kim would play alongside or play something as an example. Or maybe I’d hear him working on a piece he was practicing for a performance before our lesson started. I was wowed by hearing the music another human being could make.
I always knew being a musician wouldn’t be my calling in life. But I also knew that music runs too deep ever to go away. The biggest lesson I learned from playing piano is that perfection isn’t the endpoint — finding flow is what you strive for. It’s what I was chasing because flow feels so good.
On the flipside, chasing perfection feels crappy. Even if you get close to it, or even hold it for a second, it feels like pressure to do it again. Flow is when you’re relaxed and focused but not on one thing. It's when playing actually feels like play.
During my troubled teen years, when I felt really stuck or burdened with worry about things I felt helpless to change, playing a song to match my mood helped something come out of me when my feelings and words all felt stuck inside. And during that time, while others were seeing me as something wrong or bad, Kim just saw me as me. Because I still was.
In high school, I took a two-year break from piano to learn guitar, wanting to play something cooler during my glam-metal phase. But I returned to piano lessons because of Kim and wondered: Why do the people who actually deserve rock-star status, rarely get it?
But after high school, everything changed. I had to grow up fast. I quit piano, focusing on working my way through college. There was no time to play anything anymore. Or maybe that’s what I told myself.
Change wasn’t just in my own life. Everything was changing in the 90s. The Arlington School of Music house was torn down, making way for a condo project — the start of a decades-long changing landscape. Ranches were razed to make room for McMansions. Paneras and Starbucks replaced mom-and-pop diners. Big box stores became mega-sized. Despite the changes in scale and stuff, nothing that really mattered seemed to change.
Sometime after turning 30 and my second was born, I thought about reaching out to Kim. I wanted to thank him for everything he taught me. Things that were starting to feel bigger than before. But it was too late; he had recently died. He was only 57. “That’s so young.” Those were his words, not mine. Kim told me that at my stepdad’s visitation 15 years earlier after he asked me how old my stepdad was. He also died at 57.
The older you get, the more that is lost. But the more you realize how much stays inside as an endless song. A soundtrack, uniquely yours. All those skills I learned in piano lessons are life skills transferable to so many other things. They helped me through pharmacy school and into parenthood.
And now, I’m realizing how the focused flow of playing piano in childhood is helping me get started as a freelance writer in midlife. The muscle memory comes back when I listen to classical piano, and it helps me write.
Writing is remembering a bunch of little pieces and finding some way for them to fit together. It’s plodding through stuck spots over and over until eventually you find something better, or maybe even good. It’s overcoming the fear of sounding bad because embarrassment is a risk worth taking when you do something you love. Learning to write and play piano feels very much like the same process in my brain. And I’m still chasing that flow.
Like my piano teacher Kim, Musical Pathways teachers each carry a similar joy and calm. They’re more focused on the process than the outcome. They support each child’s epic journey in music, uniquely their own. And they understand that relationships and community are an important part of learning.
Thinking about how my own childhood musical memories have shaped who I am now, made me curious about our wonderful teachers here at Musical Pathways. Below they share their childhood musical memories.
Reneé Frey
“Singing is almost like another form of breathing for me! I find great joy in singing with my family, my students, and in my church praise band.”
As a child, I had many opportunities to explore and create music together in school, in church, and especially with my family. Every day included time to listen to favorite songs on record albums or the radio. When we traveled, we sang in the car together. My mom sang my favorite church hymns to me as lullabies at bedtime. I was in chorus and annual musicals in school, singing solos and playing my violin. When I babysat children, I’d pull out my favorite childhood songs and lead them in musical play.
Fast-forward to adulthood, and I’ve continued to fill my life with music as an educator, a parent, and singing in our church praise band. Singing is almost like another form of breathing for me! I find great joy in watching others sing, move, learn, and grow together through musical play. I’m so blessed to have had a lifelong love affair with music and the opportunity to teach Kindermusik.
Jessica spicer
“From my earliest memories, music has mattered in my life. I’m blessed to have a career combining my passion for music with my joy in teaching children.”
Music has always been a part of my life. I remember, as a toddler, my mother playing piano for me . . . I remember singing my heart out at church . . .I started with piano lessons, and then later the flute was like magic in my hands. I would cry at concerts because the music moved me so much. I remember setting up fake school for my siblings during the summers and teaching them math. I guess I can't imagine doing anything else- I believe I was always meant to be a musician and a teacher. I am blessed to be able to have a career that combines both my passion for music and my joy in teaching children.
ava clark
“From bonding with my parents to forming friendships with other musicians to relating to my students, sharing music has the power to create connections.”
Involvement with music in my childhood has made an incredible impact on how I connect with others and build community. Listening to my parents' favorite music helped us bond and shaped my music taste today. Involvement in piano class and band programs helped me to make lasting friendships throughout my childhood and continues to bring me closer to new people I meet.
I value the friendships I made through music programs where I spent countless hours working toward the same goals with my peers in our performances together, and creating a unified sound as an ensemble allowed us to connect on a level that few other experiences can provide. Sharing similar experiences and ways of thinking helps us establish amazing understanding between each other. Today, I value the power of sharing my love of music with my students. Relating to those I teach based on our similar experiences in music is an important part of my teaching approach — and one of the most enjoyable parts of my work with Musical Pathways.
alex gallatin
“Music is a gateway to emotional self-expression, personal growth, and connecting with others — music is good for the soul. ”
Music is good for the soul. The more I have given to music, the more it has given back to me. I have trained physically and mentally to express music exactly how I imagine it. The more I learn about music, the better it is at making me get up and dance, feel love, feel pain, and connect with others. Music offers so many opportunities for growth through personal development, rebounding from failures, and friendship. Learning music is about so much more than playing something perfectly. While I encourage my students to strive for their best work, I also hope to introduce them to the world of opportunities that music has to offer.
What’s Next?
Next month, we’ll share our interview with Adriana Barton, journalist and author of Wired for Music. Her book is a musical memoir that uses science and story to explain why music means so much. We’re excited to share Adriana’s voice and book with our Musical Pathways families.
