Senior spring! Similar to this time in high school, I expected this time to be a carefree era where I could bask in the sun with my friends, soak up the last of my free food and, most importantly, literally do no school at all. The stage was set! After juggling five courses for most of my time here at Bowdoin, I decided to take my foot off the gas and enroll in four and a half courses, the half being “Intro to Piano,” a group class that meets once a week led by none other than Gulimina “Guli” Mahamuti.

I didn’t know much about Guli or the class before enrolling. In my mind it would be a low-stakes, low-commitment class where I could just repeat the scales for 15 weeks and receive flying colors. Famous last words.

To my recollection, the first two classes were just that: Guli introduced herself and the piano to all six of my classmates. We learned middle C, and I remember thinking I could cruise through the semester just as I intended. Then came week three. Guli hadn’t asked for much from me; she only requested that I put in ten to 15 minutes of practice per day to keep up with the pace of course material. Being the Gemini that I am, I thought that I could cram all that I needed into 45 minutes before our weekly lesson and Guli would be none the wiser.

During that class, Guli flamed me alive. I remember her asking me to read the notes I was supposed to play, my hands shaking, and her looking at me blankly asking, “Can you read?” To this day, I’ve never felt more intimidated by a single person on this campus. She could see right through me. There was no hiding—either you could play the music or you couldn’t.

In my other courses, if I was not adequately prepared, I could still BS my way through the course material for a whole semester. Worst case scenario, I get a B+. With Guli? There is no BS, and if I couldn’t play? Then I wouldn’t receive the half credit that I needed for graduation. I remember leaving that class not just terrified of Guli but upset at myself. After wallowing and complaining about my “unreasonable piano teacher” over the weekend I decided to do the impossible: the things that were asked of me.

I made time in between classes and during the weekend to practice my repertoire. Although I still hadn’t nailed the assigned pieces on week four, Guli could see my practice through my performance. The next week I nailed it. Relief! Not only did I not have to fear for my life before my lesson, I felt confident in my abilities, and I learned how to play the piano (that’s literally the whole point of the course). As I write this now, I’m incredibly grateful to Guli for being so stern with me; without the fear of humiliating myself, I would’ve never taken piano lessons seriously.

With the semester’s end approaching, I’ve treated the piano as a parable. Even though I thought I could BS my way through Guli like I have so many teachers in the past, both of us knew how hard I was working outside of the classroom. This is the same for everything. All of us have witnessed what a half-baked advertisement, performance or publication looks like—it’s lazy, and at some point, it’s insulting to the viewer. On the flip side, we’ve all witnessed trained speakers like Barack Obama speak with authority; he’s taken the time to present himself in the best way. Although my journey with the piano may come to an end this semester, I will carry the lessons that Guli has taught me long after my time here at Bowdoin has passed.

Neiman Mocombe is a member of the Class of 2026.