I Want to Quit

It’s that time of year—people are people again, not just coats with shoes. The city comes alive for a few beautiful days, despite the allergies, before the heat takes over.

And right on cue, the quiet hum of “I want to quit” charges the air. Sports are spared. It’s the brainy stuff that gets dragged to the chopping block. Music always stirs the biggest fights.

“I want to quit piano” can escalate fast—into a full-blown war cry. With my own parents, my battle reached scorched-earth levels. But parents hang on, trusting that music matters. “You’ll regret quitting” becomes the rallying cry—but it rarely lands.
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These moments—that resistance—are exactly when music teaches its most important lesson: the value of discomfort.

When I was a kid, I liked my piano teacher. I liked to play songs but I also liked N64. Saturday morning lessons were contingent on a bribe of a pastry and cartoons and so I went. Every week. No big conversation, no drama (with some exceptions). Just -  this is what we do.

A few springs later, I threw a fit, “I want to quit.” Piano wasn’t cool. My parents didn’t push, they pivoted. “Try jazz?” they asked. That moment changed everything.

From then on, music was just part of life—not forced, just consistent. Like brushing teeth or drinking water. Non-negotiable. Not always fun, but necessary.

What I didn’t realize I was learning from day one wasn’t just how to play—it was how to get comfortable being uncomfortable. At first, that meant sitting through a Saturday lesson for a cinnamon bun. Then, grinding through hours of practice because I believed I’d get there. Later, living in a lofted nook in Bushwick with four roommates because I knew I was where I needed to be. It became WillYouLearn. It became Metempo.

Music taught persistence, resilience, and most of all—grit.  The things, more than talent,  every musician, artist and entrepeneur needs.

People love to talk about the benefits of music—how it sharpens memory, boosts brain function, improves coordination. And yes, it does all that. But more than anything, music teaches you how to stick with something when it’s hard. 

The students who persevere aren’t always the most talented. In fact, talent has almost nothing to do with it. The ones who thrive are the ones for whom music is simply part of life. Non-negotiable. Once that’s accepted, the resistance fades. They adapt. They push through.
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No one wants to practice scales when the sun’s out. But the ones who do? They build something real. Confidence. Focus. Grit.  And the chant that began as “I want to quit” fades into something quieter—but stronger:

“I can do this.”
“I’m getting there.”
“I’ve got this.”

And they do.