Behind Closed Doors

I bet they had no idea how bad they fucked me but I’m going to expose their shit to the world. The church world screwed my father so he refused to give me the only thing I wanted from him.

All I ever wanted was to play church music like my dad but he wouldn’t be the one to teach me. He did however play five days a week but only got paid for one in addition to his other full-time job. My father was never mean about it or at least didn’t let me onto it but he made sure I wouldn’t get a head start. I did however watch all my cousins dads and friends show their children how to play their instruments while I watched their ability grow from the sidelines.

My father refused to teach me piano because the church exploited his talents but he continued to play at his father’s church and his friends. He’d play four to five services a week just at grandpas’ church and received a love offering of twenty-five dollars a month. Our family wasn’t as big as it was now but mom left her job to raise us when day care expenses got too be too much, so it really hurt when dad would play an extra service only to find out that he wouldn’t get paid because the offering was too low.

I started asking Dad to teach me church music when I was old enough to read and write. Sometimes he wouldn’t answer but when he did it was:

“Go to the piano and pluck”

I tried plucking a few times but I should have known it was no use and when I became a teen I finally took control. I’d yell and scream at him but he’d stick to his guns so I finally asked mom for help. They got into a really big argument that exposed many church secrets revolving around him and other musicians that got exploited.

It wasn’t enough to get dad off the hook but I realized I’ve been fucked since birth because my faith in God climaxed when I was just a child. I’d been praying to both God and holding Disney to it’s word hoping that God would just teach me himself. In doing so I went to bed early so God could wake me up when everyone was sleeping and show me how to play like my dad. When that didn’t happen I lost it in high school and started hating God and Dad.

I found out my high-school had practice rooms about the size of a phone booth but it was rectangular and had just enough room for a piano. So each morning I got up early and headed to school and locked myself inside one of the practice rooms. I’d stare at it at first then I’d start to cry: I didn’t understand why God was punishing me. Dad said his mother forced him into playing the piano and she was his teacher but he’s amazing so it had to be worth it. Remembering dad’s cold response only fueled my anger so I’d pluck at first but end up banging with my fist and elbows.

Two months into my routine the school’s music director caught me and yelled at me from the other side of the door. I froze in place unable to move or breathe but happy that I’d already locked the door. He saw me a week later when I was walking down the hall with friends and yelled “stop” but I’d already taken off. One of my friends however caught up to me in advisory and coaxed the story out of me. She felt bad for me but didn’t let me off the hook. She did however tell me that I could teach myself piano so I was angry to find out that all I needed was already in a book. She also shared my story with the Music Director Mr. Kappitan who in return gave me my first book through her of course because I was still afraid of him. I absorbed everything in that book and learned all four pages of my first song “Beethoven’s Fur Elise” Classic.

Thanks Mr. Kappitan,

You’re the best

 Happy Father’s Day to You, Uncle Matt and all the dads!!!

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