Embracing Suzuki Parents: Every Parent Can

We Suzuki teachers know a lot about teaching and
about students. We have many ways to teach
technique, develop musical sensitivity, and
increase confidence and self-awareness in our students. We
know that students benefit from having parents involved.
But what are our beliefs about parents? What is our method
for working with them? What are our problem-solving tools?
What are our ethics?
Let me tell you a little about myself and my search for our
role in the relationship that we have with parents.
The first time I met Suzuki students, I was accompanying

a group lesson in Lyon, France in 1980. I remember expe-
riencing surprise and awe, and having many questions

that non-Suzuki teachers have. How do these beginning
students play so well? Are they “preselected”? Why are their
parents present during all the lessons? What are the teachers
expecting from them? What are the benefits to the students
of having their parents present?
A year later, I was accompanying Suzuki students at US
summer institutes on my way to Matsumoto where I would
spend the next two years. I had more questions: where is
this enthusiasm in parents and children coming from? Is
there a secret to finding interested parents? As a result of
this experience I knew that no matter what I did, I was not
going to have children dropped off at my door anymore.
While I was studying Dr. Suzuki’s writings as a teacher
trainee in Matsumoto, and ever since, the beliefs and ethics
related to students and teachers such as “every child can”
and “teachers must can” (something he told me and maybe
many others) resonated deeply within me. Because I am
French-born, I appreciate how a direct translation can say
things better. Our determination to believe in children’s
abilities and our dedication to overcome obstacles are at
the core of the ethics we study and by which we pledge to
abide as Suzuki teachers. But what about the parents? What
is our philosophy about them? Do we believe that “every
parent can?”
As a Suzuki teacher, teacher trainer, and parent, I have
been on several sides of the challenges in the relationship
between teachers and parents. I initially felt the loss of the
special relationship that I had with my students before the
parents were present at the lessons. I quickly noticed that
this loss was offset by the enhancement of my quality of life
as a teacher. Instead of the one-on-one special relationship
which I had with my students, I had an ongoing dialogue

with parents about the child’s learning and students re-
membered what I was teaching much better. I did not have

to argue about wrong notes or wrong rhythms (but maybe
only French students did that?) thanks to the listening. My
students’ drop-out rates decreased dramatically. Yet I have
struggled in some of my relationships with my students’
parents as a teacher, seen many teachers struggle as a teacher
trainer and colleague, and have struggled at times with my
own children’s teachers as a Suzuki parent.
To add to this perspective, I am now employed as a Mental

Health Counselor in the psychiatry department of a pedi-
atric hospital, where I work with children, ages birth to 12

years, who have major challenges in their lives.
After many years of teaching students, and with Dr.
Suzuki’s words in my mind, I went back to college to study
mental health therapy, a field which I had studied in France.
I work with the children and their foster parents or kinship
care providers, as well as with parents who are trying to
regain custody of their children. I work with families in
which something has gone very wrong. In these difficult
situations there is no “easy parent” and no “easy fit” between
the children and their parents or caregivers. The belief that
“every parent can” is challenged by the situations in which
I work.
This has given me new perspectives on children’s needs
from their parents, on parental love and parents’ needs, and
on how we can help.
The list of Suzuki parents’ responsibilities is long. Our
list of expectations of them as teachers is longer, and
actually includes many of traditional expectations that
teachers have of their students; we want Suzuki parents to
be hard-working and respectful of us, to understand what
we teach, be open to learning and eager to learn. We also
want them to bring their child prepared, to make room for
us in the triangle and take our directions to heart, to find
ways to listen and practice effectively with their child. We

perceive that as “commitment to the process” and dedica-
tion to their child.

Now let’s turn things around and explore our responsibili-
ties toward our students’ parents. Oddly we might not often

think in these terms beyond financial and professional
reliability. Each of us can have our own list, and I will just
mention some of the items included on mine: welcoming
them, doing the initial parent education, being supportive

by acknowledging their efforts, following up on the assign-
ments. The list can get much longer and include welcoming

their input and expertise on the child, looking at them as
doing their best, creating both healthy boundaries and open
communication, and many others.

So . . . what happens when it goes

wrong and we find ourselves com-
plaining about the parents, when we

struggle because a parent is talking
during the lesson about their child’s

achievement at home or lack of willing-
ness to practice, when a parent tells us

that they are listening to recordings
but there are many signs that it may not

be true, when practice is not happen-
ing regularly, or when parents cancel

at the last minute because they want to
go to the pool on a summer day?
We are frustrated, disappointed,
sometimes shocked. We find ourselves
thinking or saying that “the child
is great, but the parents. . .” We may
question ourselves, make more clear
policies or give reminders about our
expectations. We might vent to our
colleagues, and often we blame the
parents. We analyze what may be
happening, and we see it as over- or
under-involvement on the parent’s
part, disrespect toward us, or even
worse, hinderance of their child’s

learning. This way of analyzing situ-
ations only reinforces our frustration

and leads to righteousness and dis-
couragement. Are there other avenues

for making it better?
Just as we have learned to look
inward to decide what to improve in
our approach to our students and their
learning, I believe that we can develop
a matter-of-fact and organized way of
looking at what is going well or not in
our work with the parents and decide
what to do to improve it.
When communication is difficult,
three directions are essential and
equally important for us to improve
relationships:

• Recognizing and owning how
  we feel
• Putting ourselves in the other
  person’s shoes
• Taking an active problem-solving
  perspective

For Suzuki teachers this can trans-
late into the following questions:

1. W hat is my biggest difficulty
   with this family? Is it a theme in
   my experience with this family?

Is it a theme for me or is it new? Is
it frustrating because it happens
a lot or because it is taking me
by surprise?
2.What do I think might be most
difficult for this parent? What do
I think this parent’s experience is
in working with their child and
with me? What have I tried to do
to help?

3. Finally, what do I want instead of
   wish for? How do I communicate it?
   Where do we go from here internally?

The recognition of our experiences
helps us develop acceptance, or what
I call self-empathy: find a place where
we stop fighting about how we feel and
accept it kindly. We Suzuki teachers are
idealists and our wishes are often far
from our reality. We have learned how
to manage this with our students, but
we need self-support when it comes to
parents. Yes, we will be frustrated and
we will have struggles happen unless
we select our families very carefully
to be “perfect Suzuki families”—which
is not what Dr. Suzuki advocated. We
particularly experience difficulties
with when we are younger and newer
teachers and we have to take all the
students who come through the door.
But we also experience it when we
have taught for a while and struggles
keep happening. It comes with the
beauty of the “every child can learn”
philosophy. I have always struggled
with sarcasm, especially sarcasm from
adults about their child. Tired parents
who feel the pressure of our and their
expectations can be sarcastic about
their child’s refusal to practice. If I
know that sarcasm is a trigger for me,

I can breathe through it and move to
the next step, which will help me find

a better next step than if I am justify-
ing my anger and blaming it on the

parent’s behavior. We are honoring
what we feel rather than ignoring it
or feeding it.
With the acknowledgement of our
experience comes letting go of judgment:
we don’t have to believe that someone

did something wrong, but life is pre-
cious and beautiful and struggles are

a part of it. It is okay for us to have
all kinds of feelings. I practice this
when I work with the parents of my
clients and it takes work to let go of
the “wrong” things they have done.
Letting go of judgment helps me to
acknowledge that these are still my
feelings to recognize and manage,
and these are their children. I am
frustrated when a child is making the
same rhythm mistake week after week
while the parent tells me that they
are listening to the recording almost
daily, or a parent boasts about their
child’s focus on a piece not assigned
by me and seems to have overlooked
everything we did at the previous
lesson. Acknowledging and kindly
accepting that I am frustrated can keep
me from judging the parent, which
always comes back as a boomerang in
judging myself. Blame and self-blame
are close companions to each other. We
don’t have to take them in.
Appreciation of the parents’ efforts is
another internal step we can take. I
taught in an inner-city school where
it took six years for many students to
graduate from Book One. Some of the
parents took two buses to come to the
lessons, which meant two buses back.
Would I have done that myself? The
idea of turning off the television to do
the Suzuki listening was very strange

to them. Yet they kept coming to les-
sons with a teacher who had a strange

name and talked with an accent. Who
had the culture shock? Who was I to
judge them? How brave these parents
were to work with me.
At a time when we often hear about
gratitude and gratitude journals, I

suggest that, especially when we are
feeling frustrated, we find reasons
to appreciate our students’ parents
and write or talk about them. Here
are some of the themes which speak
to me: finding something positive in
what parents do, appreciating their
struggles, looking into the similarities

with some of our own struggles, recog-
nizing that we really don’t know how

difficult it is for them to do the work of
Suzuki parenting, exploring the belief
that they are doing the best they can
at this moment, and recognizing how
the parents’ dedication improves the
quality of our lives.
After these internal steps, where do
we go with our Suzuki parents?

Acknowledgement (appreciation in
action) comes next. After we have
noticed it, we can communicate to our
parents what we see they are doing well

just as we do with the students. Parent-
ing is a very challenging and lonely job

at times, and parents appreciate our
kudos. Results and success are rewarding
in themselves, but effort is nurtured by
acknowledgement.
I have thoroughly enjoyed discretely
giving parents thumbs up behind
the student’s back while the student
is playing. Acknowledgement means
showing parents that we notice them
and what they doing. It is a fun process

to look for our own ways of communi-
cating appreciation to parents.

It is also a delicate one because we
don’t want to deprive children of a
sense of ownership, so we need to find
our ways to balance giving children

and their parents credit for the good
work they do.
We need to be disciplined in keeping
track of what we asked children and

parents to work on. It is just as discour-
aging for parents as it is for students

to work on something and not have
it acknowledged by us. I have used
humor to acknowledge struggles, such
as asking a student, “When you make
a mistake, do you turn to your mom
and say, ‘Mom, it’s ALL YOUR FAULT!’”

Engaging the children in problem-
solving with humor is one of my ways

to diffuse tensions reported by parents
or perceived by me, and I know there
are many more that Suzuki teachers
can find. Finally, acknowledging the
parent’s efforts is a great way to help
our parents focus less on their child’s
achievement and more on the quality
of the learning process.

Another channel for problem-
solving is positive communication. As

we know, the brain does not do well
with negatives and if asked to not
think about a white elephant, we just
cannot get that white elephant out
of our head. To engage in positive
communication, we translate what
we are frustrated with into what we
want. We differentiate between wishes
and wants, an empowering process I
will clarify. We turn what we fear into
what we hope for, and translate it into
understandable words. This requires
that we don’t use jargon and we speak
in our own name even if we reference
Dr. Suzuki or others.
Let’s take some examples: Let’s say
we see a child try once and then give
up. Our fear may be that this child
is “lazy.” We can encourage the child
by acknowledging the times when he
or she tries hard and helping them
identify with being a “hard worker.”
We have taken the other side of the
coin, gone from fear of laziness to hope
of determination and communicated
that as a belief. We can use the same
process with parents; whether parents
are intrusive during lessons, on their
phones, or behaving in other ways

which may be frustrating for us, we
can recognize what is a fear for us
(distracted parents, parents taking
over), turn it into a hope (parents
paying attention and communicating
respect) and convey it as our vision.
What does “turning wishes into
wants” mean? W hen we wish for
someone to be different, we feel
helpless because we know that we
cannot change another person. We
can, however, turn this into wanting
something to be different. W hen
we identify what we would like see
changed, we can start thinking about
steps and take one at a time. Again, this
is something we really know how to do
well with our students, but we need to
develop with our parents. One of my
children’s school teachers would ask
the students,“Are you complaining?”
and would not let go until the child
identified what they wanted. What a
life lesson.
Finally, clear communication has to
be direct. I have poor communication
because I like consensus and I dislike
conflict. One day I had worked hard on
making a tasty dinner and asked our
children: “Would you like to help with

the dishes?” The children politely an-
swered, “No, thank you.” I knew I had

to change something! I was motivated
to learn to say instead, “Please help
with the dishes” or “I need your help

with the dishes.” Direct communica-
tion does not have to be demanding,

but our thoughts, needs or wants have
to be expressed clearly.
Collaboration is the last piece of my
puzzle. Parents are the experts on their
children. Although we have insights
into the children, their parents know
them much better than we ever do and
they are the ones who have a life-long
commitment to them. We can benefit
from treating them as such. We can
collaborate openly with parent and
child, collaborate with each and divide
responsibilities between them (an
always evolving process). We can make
sure to have frequent enough parent

conferences to reevaluate how things
are going.
Finally, the idea of parallel process has
become an important concept for me
as I work with caregivers. What it

means is that in addition to acknowl-
edging and accepting our emotions,

letting go of judgment, developing
appreciation, acknowledging the
parents’ efforts and using positive
communication and collaborating,
we decide to treat the adults in the
ways that we want them to treat
the children. In therapy jargon, it is

sometimes called unconditional posi-
tive regard.

There are many parallel processes.

We see it in dynamics such as oppres-
sion, where one group is oppressed

and oppresses the next group under
it, or comes into power and oppresses
others. The process is the same; we
are very good at it, and it is part of our
make-up as human beings. Here is
how we can use it in positive ways: we
can decide what kind of relationship
we want to have with the parents every
time we see them, and in doing so we
encourage the parallel process in their
relationship with their child. Some
moments in my children’s lessons have
brought me to tears of joy and inspired
me to relate better with my children.
As we work with parents who have not
always been nurtured as children, we
can not only demonstrate belief in
their children but also unconditional
positive regard toward them. We
can always look into whether there is
something in the parallel process we
can improve.
To illustrate how different our
experiences may be, I brainstormed
about the Suzuki triangle concept

shown below and turned it into “Su-
zuki triangles.”

The following pictures are modifica-
tions of the traditional Suzuki triangle

pictures showing some of our own and
our Suzuki parents’ experiences.
I drew these triangles to better
visualize how differently teachers
and parents can perceive the Suzuki
process.
Teachers sometimes feel that they
are doing most of the heavy lifting.

Parents however often feel that

much of the responsibility and ac-
countability tasks are given to them,

which could look like these pictures:

The (given) responsibility triangle as
it can be perceived by parents.
As a Suzuki parent, I often felt that
most of the responsibility was mine,
whether it was openly given to me or

not. Let’s look next at what the percep-
tion of accountability looks like for our

parents. Parents can feel accountable
to the teacher and to their child and
can perceive little accountability from
anyone to them.

The accountability triangle as it can
be perceived by parents.
There is good will and dedication in
all of us. We can go further in our
identity and the quality of our work
as Suzuki teachers by learning to work
effectively with every parent, thus
helping Dr. Suzuki’s vision blossom by

developing the belief that “every par-
ent can” and the tools we need with it.

This is what it could look like:

Every parent can help to learn.
Every parent can learn to help. 

Student

Teacher Parent

Student

Teacher

Parent

Student

Teacher

Parent

Student

Teacher

F r a n ç o i s e Pi e r r e d o n
received degrees in piano
performance and clinical
psychology in Paris. Her
work with children with
autism led her to study
with Dr Suzuki and Dr Kataoka in Matsumoto,
Japan, where she graduated from the Talent
Education Institute. She has been a teacher
trainer for the Suzuki Association of Americas
since 1984, teaching in various settings including
an inner-city school, and at institutes in the
United States, France, UK, Australia, Canada
and Mexico. After getting a Master’s degree in
Mental Health Counseling in 2005, she started
working as a Clinical Counselor, most recently at
Cincinnati Children’s Hospital in the Therapeutic
Interagency Program where she specializes in
the treatment of psychological trauma, and she is
learning that the work between professionals and
parents is an essential and fascinating part of the
healing process. Her teaching and her therapeutic
approaches include having a supportive and
collaborative partnership with parents.