I am sitting on a chair in a small room on Oakwood Avenue and I know nothing about what’s about to happen before my eyes. My 7-year-old is about to sing her first song to a professional singing teacher at the Toronto Music Alliance.
She’s only ever sang her favourite songs in the car with me as I chauffeured her around to swimming, school and grandma’s house. She had asked for singing lessons. Now she was going to show what she’s got. She was shy but sang Lush Life and Harpy Hare. The try-out went ok and she will continue.
My eldest daughter also started taking lessons at these studios on Oakwood, immersing me again into a world of music I know nothing about. We don’t own a cello, so we had to rent one.
At the rental shop in a big old Victorian house near UofT, dozens and dozens of sleek, sharp, shiny violins hang in tight rows from the ceiling, covering the upper space of a small room where Hari fits the right instrument to each burgeoning musician. The amount of knowledge behind these instruments, and the music are impressive. I feel intimidated by all of the art in this place.
Our cello is affordable. But Hari points out, it can be very expensive. She says goodbye to a young woman leaving with a small instrument case under her arm. “That violin for example is worth $30,000.”
The price tag was a stark reminder of how exclusive this world can feel. My daughter was excited about finally getting her own cello—it’s her way of relaxing—but the cost is a constant conversation for us. It made her reflect on her own journey. She reminded me that it cost her nothing to start, because she began playing with Sistema Toronto in Parkdale.
The music program is free and geared to at-risk kids in poor areas. It was born in Venezuela, and its philosophy is social change. Its method is collective. Kids always play and practice together, and they practice for many hours.
Every child learned. Even my daughter who came from me, someone who appreciates music, but can’t do much else, musically speaking. The music and the cello stayed with my daughter. To this day she is grateful for the program. But funding for the program was cut by the provincial government after a few years after it started. It survived through fundraising afterwards, and I’m glad to see it looks like it’s back on its feet again in areas where kids need it most. It helped that the program started with a wealthy backer.
But music, art, and sports should be for every child. Not just those who can afford it. The provincial government has cut away at public schools for years, leaving them with half of what they used to have when I was a kid in the 70s. And we’re all getting used to fundraising. But not every school has a wealthy private benefactor.
I know that not every child will become a musician. I didn’t and I don’t know if my girls will. But every child deserves the chance to discover whether music might become part of who they are.
