The thirty minutes of a first meeting determine how tired you'll be for the next three years.
This page puts "what to ask" and "what to watch for" in the same place.
What do most teachers ask at a first meeting?
"How long have you been playing?" "What books are you using?" "How much do you practice?" — probably something like that. The child plays a piece. The parent asks about fees. Handshakes. See you next week.
And then three months later you discover: no one supervises practice at home; the mother actually wants him to pass an exam; the last teacher quit because of the father.
All of this is visible in the first meeting. The clues just don't appear in the answer to "how long have you been playing" — they appear in whether he glances at his mother before answering, whether his voice gets quieter when he mentions a certain book, and what flickers across his mother's face when he says "I don't like practicing."
The questions below have no right answers, and none of them are mandatory.
Think of them as a set of keys — the more you carry, the less you panic when you hit a door that won't open.
The question is just the entry point. The two sections after it are where the real value is.
Where to put your eyes after you ask. Sometimes how an answer is given matters more than what the answer actually says.
How I personally would follow up or probe. This is my approach — not the only one.
Space left for you. Your studio, your students — your answers will naturally look different.
Click a category to filter. When you find one you want to use, hit "Add to Interview Sheet" — then print the whole sheet and bring it to the room.
Nobody will tell you to look for these. But they're happening in front of you the whole time.
This entire page assumes a child who can have a back-and-forth conversation. Not every child can.
Some children's language is still developing. Some children don't make much eye contact. Some children can't answer a single question in ten tries. In those cases, the decoder table below becomes a dangerous thing — "glancing at the parent before answering" might have nothing to do with autonomy, and "not looking at you" doesn't mean they're not listening.
So this section isn't about replacement questions — it's about replacement approaches.
Instead of "Can he...?", ask "When he's enjoying something, how do you know?" — return the judgment to the person who watches them every day.
Can't answer an open question doesn't mean no opinion. Two pictures, two buttons, two options — pointing works.
Play two contrasting pieces and let them choose. The answer you're looking for doesn't have to come in words.
What you see in the first meeting is "how they are today," not "who they are." Some children take two or three months before they let you see them.
Some teachers see it intuitively. Some teachers need a reference chart. Both are fine.
Recommended: open this after the meeting, once you've seen the family out. Some descriptions (like "high control") are not things a parent should accidentally read off your screen.
| What you observed | Usually means | What you can do first |
|---|---|---|
| Child says "I don't know" more than three times | Not used to being asked their opinion, or afraid to answer wrong | Switch everything to two-choice questions; lower the cost of having an opinion |
| Checks with parent before answering | Low autonomy; decision-making power isn't with the child at home | First three months: help them believe "wrong answers are okay" |
| Parent jumps in more than three times | High control or high anxiety | Before the first lesson, have a clear conversation about each person's role |
| Talks about practice using "have to" instead of "want to" | Motivation is external, not internal | Deliberately build in moments of choice; adding pressure will accelerate burnout |
| "Nobody listens to me play at home" | Lacks an audience — this stops students more often than lack of talent | Arrange a small sharing or a recording sent to family; low cost, big effect |
| Voice gets quieter or laughs nervously when mentioning home rules | Rules are enforced strictly, or they're not sure they're allowed to say | Avoid penalty-based feedback; it replicates the pressure they already feel at home |
| Can name which book they dislike and why | Good metacognition — and they feel safe talking to you | You can start giving choices and self-assessments earlier than usual |
| Every answer is two or three words | Weaker verbal expression — doesn't mean low interest | More demonstration, less explanation; teach by listening, not by talking |
| "The old teacher never did it like this" | Could be comparison, could be the first time they've felt safe enough to say it | Don't fill the silence. Write it down. You'll understand what it means after two more lessons. |
| Parent proactively says "We just want them to enjoy it, no pressure" | Sometimes genuine; sometimes they just haven't been disappointed yet | Follow up: "What would you say if they wanted to quit?" — the answer will be very different |
| Parent says "I hope they develop patience" / "I hope they pass Grade X" | Former values character; latter values outcomes. Neither is wrong — but the conversations you'll need are completely different | Report progress in the language they care about. Talking about grades to a character-focused parent will make them feel you're missing the point. |
| Child almost never makes eye contact throughout | Could be shyness, anxiety, or simply how they are | Don't conclude anything yet. Treat it as an open question mark. Come back to it after three lessons. |
Not a test — an observation of what their body does when they don't know what to do.
Short-term auditory memory and attention. Getting it wrong doesn't matter; what matters is whether they move before they've finished listening.
This is a starting point, not a talent assessment. Children who can't do it simply haven't been asked before.
Musical imagination. A child who says "like rain" and a child who says "I don't know" will need completely different first-year approaches.
The playing quality isn't the point — watch what they do after a mistake: freeze, restart, pretend it didn't happen, or smile and keep going. This one moment is worth ten questions combined.
At the end of the interview, don't rush into explaining your fees and curriculum.
First tell the parent three specific things you genuinely noticed about this child today. Concrete. Not polite filler.
The effect of these three sentences usually outweighs everything you say about your curriculum afterward. Because what parents want is never just "you know how to teach" — it's "you see my child." Many parents have walked into many studios and been met with "so what's the problem?" You being the first adult who is genuinely curious about their child as a person — that stays with them for a long time.
But if what you're left with, honestly, is "I don't think I can work with this child" — please be honest about that too. Referring them to a more suitable teacher is not failure. It's professionalism.
I know you're going to want to print out the whole list and work through it. Please don't.
More than fifteen questions in one interview will exhaust the child, make the parent feel audited, and leave you so busy taking notes that you forget to look up. The way to use this page is: decide in advance which two things you most want to know today, pick around ten questions, and save the rest for the second and third lesson.
An interview is not a screening. It's a diagnosis. You're not deciding whether this child is worth teaching — you're figuring out how they learn, how much their family can give them, and most importantly, whether you are the right person to take this on.
Some children aren't a fit for me. That's nobody's fault, and there's no shame in it. Keeping a student who fundamentally isn't a match — three years later, you'll feel drained sitting at the piano, they'll feel like they're not good enough, and the parents will feel like they wasted their money. Everyone loses.
When you get the match right — and when you've asked the right questions — that first thirty-minute meeting becomes the foundation for every lesson that follows. You'll know why they don't want to play today, because you already know what time their family eats dinner, who sits next to them, and who they find first when they're upset.
After many years of teaching, I believe this more and more: children don't stay because their teacher is impressive. They stay because they feel seen. And being seen starts with the very first question you ask — as long as that question actually wants an answer.
I hope every new student you meet this term is the right one.
— Joyce