The problem is that the traditional method of learning an instrument was developed for kids. Kids have all the time in the world, kids can develop habits easily, and kids have parents to ensure that they practice. When applied to adults, the same approach often fails. Adults are busy, feel self-conscious about playing “wrong”, and remember getting critiqued as kids. They start out inspired, but after a few weeks, it feels like a chore. And the instrument goes back under the bed. The root issue here is that adults are still being asked to act like they’re ten years old — to play scales, use metronomes, and practice method books — rather than being treated like adults, with agency, experience, and emotional maturity.
But adults are not kids. We don’t have parents and teachers to motivate us. Unless the reward is just to finally learn the piece, and get the shiny beginner’s piano diploma, and along the way, have our mistakes and progress evaluated and criticized (“you’re behind,” “wrong fingering,” “not ready for this piece yet”) we aren’t likely to persist. Unless we are masochists. And this is why a lot of us drop out. We aren’t that talented. We don’t like being told what to do, how to do it, and what our mistakes are. We aren’t looking to take on another thing we need to do perfectly, on our list of adult responsibilities. We are looking for a way to incorporate music into our busy lives, as a way to relax, and express ourselves, to bond with our children, to feel like we are still alive.
What does work for adults, however, is reversing the order of priorities. It is in focusing first on enjoyment and connection, and second on mastery. Rather than beginning with exercises, we begin with music the learner loves, however badly it might be played. We approach errors as data to explore, not events to be corrected. We use the pleasure of playing as the gauge for success, not the correct execution of a skill. Doing so eliminates the need to carry shame as we explore, and enables us to practice because we desire to do so, rather than because we “should”. And it is this practice that results in mastery.
A second vital aspect is that of respecting the student’s musical preferences. Many adult students have very defined tastes in music after a lifetime of listening, and most methods do not acknowledge this in the instruction. A good instructional setting acknowledges the student’s tastes immediately and begins with those tastes. It is far better to hack at a rock solo than to play a correct classical etude. Eventually the person that struggled with scales will be playing difficult music because they want to play something that is important to them.
Ultimately, the most powerful approach to teaching adult students is one that acknowledges them as whole people, not works-in-progress. One that provides support, not dictation; framework, not formula; support, not judgment. Adults thrive when they can approach music as a source of joy, catharsis, and self-definition, not as yet another hurdle to be overcome. When they are permitted to do so, adults do more than learn – they rediscover the joy of playing. And that joy, over time, leads to far greater outcomes than any sort of forced trek through a method ever could.