Teaching piano or telling stories, Hermosa's Miss Emily is a gem
By John Bogert
Originally published Sunday, September 24, 2006 in The Daily Breeze
Teaching piano or telling stories, Hermosa's Miss Emily is a gem. The green-eyed teacher and storyteller brings delight to students and listeners of all ages.
By John Bogert
'Sit in a green square," Miss Emily directed me, pulling out a book, firing up a CD and singing without a hint of embarrassment. "The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round ..."
Miss Emily Baum, who is 34 and looks 18, is as blond, bright and enthusiastic as a kid. At hand in her upstairs 49 Pier Avenue, Hermosa Beach, piano studio is a photo of her as a child. In it, she is all missing teeth and smiles and you'd have to be seriously impaired not to see the similarities between that strikingly happy child and this grown woman who can get someone like me -- and more fantastic, a pack of lawyers -- to take a green square on the checkerboard carpet.
"That happened," said Miss Emily, who lives a block away and walks to work. "The law firm next door had a party and they asked me to read." So she read and the suits listened because two things a human can't resist are a good story and a good storyteller.
Call it a zest for life, but the New Jersey-born and -raised Miss Emily knew a couple of things about herself from Day One. Or whatever day it was when she saw the piano as a path to happiness.
"I only ever wanted to play piano and teach," she said, green eyes wide, the voice pitched high and exactly where it should be to enchant children. And grown lawyers, and her adult students. And me for that matter.
And it isn't just the good looks. There is an ineffable quality about Miss Emily, something funny and daffy and charming and quite smart. This is the woman who taught first in Manhattan Beach and then on the Palos Verdes Peninsula before asking herself, "How many piano lessons do I have to give to make a living?"
So she gave up school and started in on her first love, the piano. Her second love is storytelling, which she does one-on-one, in small groups and to large crowds (reach her at 310-937-0150) at retail stores throughout the city. Actually, she did her first story reading -- in a silly costume while emoting like only someone attuned to children can -- in a restaurant right here on Pier Avenue.
She is, need we say, a big fan of auditory learning, of hearing and seeing, and the kids eat it up. And all her lessons come with a big dose of sweet and sneakily taught etiquette.
Now consider John Uriostegui and his 5-year-old daughter, Rae. The Hermosa Beach financial adviser wanted to get the child piano lessons.
"I read somewhere that they should be exposed to music," said the man who also sits on the board of a local preschool. "But instead of just taking Rae in, Miss Emily told me that she'd try her out for free to see if she was ready." Well, she was ready. Then Uriostegui, whose wife recently gave birth to twins, noticed something strange and disturbing.
"Soon, I saw that she knew more about music than I did, so I asked her to take me on," he said. "Miss Emily is patient, positive, enthusiastic and I've seen her in many situations. I'm sure she must break down at some point, but I've never seen it. She is always upbeat and kids respond to that. They naturally go to her because she is approachable."
You can't fake approachable, which is a big part of what makes this woman so interesting and a big part of what drew me here. Face it, nice people are so rare that newspaper stories are written about them.
It isn't a stretch then that Miss Emily also works with special-needs children, which is all part of a life that is all about freedom and the fun of walking down the street and hearing students from five years back screaming, "Hi Miss Emily!"
I don't know about you, but I've had few teachers in my life that I didn't want to hide from.
"Kids learn so well from music," she enthused. "In return they make me feel alive and happy. It's so wonderful to know that they want to be here."
We're talking students aged 5 to 80, not that age matters, because we all love a great teacher.
Teaching piano or telling stories, Hermosa's Miss Emily is a gem. The green-eyed teacher and storyteller brings delight to students and listeners of all ages.
By John Bogert
'Sit in a green square," Miss Emily directed me, pulling out a book, firing up a CD and singing without a hint of embarrassment. "The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round ..."
Miss Emily Baum, who is 34 and looks 18, is as blond, bright and enthusiastic as a kid. At hand in her upstairs 49 Pier Avenue, Hermosa Beach, piano studio is a photo of her as a child. In it, she is all missing teeth and smiles and you'd have to be seriously impaired not to see the similarities between that strikingly happy child and this grown woman who can get someone like me -- and more fantastic, a pack of lawyers -- to take a green square on the checkerboard carpet.
"That happened," said Miss Emily, who lives a block away and walks to work. "The law firm next door had a party and they asked me to read." So she read and the suits listened because two things a human can't resist are a good story and a good storyteller.
Call it a zest for life, but the New Jersey-born and -raised Miss Emily knew a couple of things about herself from Day One. Or whatever day it was when she saw the piano as a path to happiness.
"I only ever wanted to play piano and teach," she said, green eyes wide, the voice pitched high and exactly where it should be to enchant children. And grown lawyers, and her adult students. And me for that matter.
And it isn't just the good looks. There is an ineffable quality about Miss Emily, something funny and daffy and charming and quite smart. This is the woman who taught first in Manhattan Beach and then on the Palos Verdes Peninsula before asking herself, "How many piano lessons do I have to give to make a living?"
So she gave up school and started in on her first love, the piano. Her second love is storytelling, which she does one-on-one, in small groups and to large crowds (reach her at 310-937-0150) at retail stores throughout the city. Actually, she did her first story reading -- in a silly costume while emoting like only someone attuned to children can -- in a restaurant right here on Pier Avenue.
She is, need we say, a big fan of auditory learning, of hearing and seeing, and the kids eat it up. And all her lessons come with a big dose of sweet and sneakily taught etiquette.
Now consider John Uriostegui and his 5-year-old daughter, Rae. The Hermosa Beach financial adviser wanted to get the child piano lessons.
"I read somewhere that they should be exposed to music," said the man who also sits on the board of a local preschool. "But instead of just taking Rae in, Miss Emily told me that she'd try her out for free to see if she was ready." Well, she was ready. Then Uriostegui, whose wife recently gave birth to twins, noticed something strange and disturbing.
"Soon, I saw that she knew more about music than I did, so I asked her to take me on," he said. "Miss Emily is patient, positive, enthusiastic and I've seen her in many situations. I'm sure she must break down at some point, but I've never seen it. She is always upbeat and kids respond to that. They naturally go to her because she is approachable."
You can't fake approachable, which is a big part of what makes this woman so interesting and a big part of what drew me here. Face it, nice people are so rare that newspaper stories are written about them.
It isn't a stretch then that Miss Emily also works with special-needs children, which is all part of a life that is all about freedom and the fun of walking down the street and hearing students from five years back screaming, "Hi Miss Emily!"
I don't know about you, but I've had few teachers in my life that I didn't want to hide from.
"Kids learn so well from music," she enthused. "In return they make me feel alive and happy. It's so wonderful to know that they want to be here."
We're talking students aged 5 to 80, not that age matters, because we all love a great teacher.