Day 15 - Ms. Barbara Nelson
Thursday’s at 5:30 pm were always penned in on my calendar for at least 12 years of my life.
Those were my weekly piano lessons with Ms. Barbara Nelson. Sometimes it meant that if I was too early, my mother would take me to the park in Uptown Southern Pines or the Southern Pines Library because they had more books than Pinebluff’s tiny library.
Ms. Nelson was my nursery, kindergarten, and piano teacher at St. James Lutheran School in West Southern Pines, NC.
During the weekdays, Ms. Nelson and her mother were catalysts for the beginnings of my formal educational learning. I entered her pre-school program at three and only left at five to enter Aberdeen Elementary for 1st grade.
St. James Lutheran Church
My babysitter, Mrs. Annie Core, held my hand as I walked into my 1st grade class. I still remember how alone I felt when she let my hand go. This was going to be different. All I know is that the safe nurturing space of Ms.Nelson’s was gone. Charnetta wasn’t there. The merry-go-round and Pastor Nealy were all gone. In its place was a pukey blue carpet that divided my 1st grade class from the 2nd grade class, a teacher who refused to recognize that I DID know my address, and learned lessons that no five year old should have to learn!
Unknowingly, St. James Lutheran School is probably the impetus for the Fannie Lou’s Girls Program’s concept of providing a “safe space” for Black girls. It sheltered me from much that I wouldn’t even realize until I entered Mrs. Briggs’s class at Aberdeen Elementary School.
At Ms. Nelson’s, I learned my ABCs, got my feet wet in learning to lead, read “The Monkey and the Bee” to the class while seated in the light blue chair, played Punchenella, rode the merry-go-round until I stumbled off laughing in a dizzied frenzy, learned daily from Pastor Nealy during our morning devotions in the sanctuary, and learned the importance of afternoon naps.
It was at Ms. Nelson’s that I met my forever and longest friend, Charnetta Hendrix. Because our parents taught at Pinecrest High School and were often late in picking us up, Ms. Nelson would often take us back to her house. Charnetta and I still laugh about the cat clock that Ms. Nelson had with the tail that moved with every second and how we’d stick our hands in her fish tank.
Ms. Nelson saw in me an affinity with the piano at a very young age. I’m sure that I was probably banging, but she saw something else. That’s the beauty and revolutionary abilities of Black Women to me, they are seers. They can see well pass the rough edges and create a masterpiece.
So, at four years old, Ms. Nelson became my piano teacher. This began my life with Ms. Nelson, her home basement, her piano, a metronome, annual piano recitals the first Sunday in May, red corsages, committed practicing to memorize piano selections, John Thompson’s “Teaching Little Fingers to Play,” and Howard Kassau.
Yes, she was amazing, and I was awed by her ability to read any score of music. I would often challenge her by asking her to play some hard piece like Frank Lizst’s “Liebestraum,” and without flenching, she would play it effortlessly, teaching me that reading music was all about recognizing your key signature, and setting the metronome for time/rhythm.
I don’t believe Ms. Nelson ever recognized inflation because my lessons remained $2.50 until that day, at 14, she turned to me and said, “I can refer you to a master teacher now if you like because there’s really nothing more that I can teach you.” That was the year of my last recital. I always loved Beethoven, still do, and I’d played his First Movement of Moonlight Sonata.
I didn’t take that referral to a master teacher. I’d already left the safety, love, and warmth of “a Ms. Nelson” before going to another place that wasn’t as great, I’d dare not do that again, so I just kept playing on my own.
I still play. When I’m frustrated, I play. Stuck, I play. Angry, I play. And, the older I get, my memory hasn’t failed in remembering the teachings of these great revolutionary Black women with whom I spent so much time. I believe they are honored when their teachings are demonstrated by and through me. I am truly blessed to have had them in my life.
Ms. Barbara Nelson passed in June of 2019.