I play the cello.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Music and Writing

"I signed up for Creative Writing, but due to budget cuts the Journalism and Creative Writing classes were combined. Our teacher didn’t even look to see which subject we originally chose, and instead introduced the class to both Creative Writing and Journalism.
I soon realized pursuing Journalism meant I could be a writer while making a difference in the community. Class aside, the prospect of a career in the field of Journalism intrigued me. When it came time to declare which subject we wanted to participate in the class, I chose Journalism.

After just a few months, I have already been involved in my first scandal. I wrote a perspective piece about my negative experience in this season’s school marching band. I am exiled from the “Band Geek” clique. Rather than finding this disheartening, I am inspired. I influenced friends to scorn me, maybe I can convince strangers to better society."

In the common application, I rewrote the portion about my most meaningful extra-curricular. In my first draft, I wrote about Marching Band. Now I've switched to Journalism. A year ago, I found my only home to be with the band. Now, it hurts to watch a video of all the seniors together at championships. I'm going to write about the chairs. The Chairs put everything into perfect perspective for me; everything that was falling apart fell together for just a moment of clarity.

It was the first evening of Championships. At Championships, the seniors have a special dinner and sit together. This year, it was so cold and windy the seniors had the dinner inside the equipment truck. The tables and chairs were hauled inside this big moving truck, and it was decorated with twinkle lights and candles.

Toward the end of dinner, we started playing music from an iPod. I don't remember how or who started it, but the music blasted and there was an overpowering stench of happiness. People stood up on the chairs at the tables. My band member were dancing and shouting along the lyrics to the songs that were being played. Everyone was laughing and smiling and dancing.

Never had I ever felt so dislocated from my band members. Even at the beginning of my first season, when I was strangled by social anxiety, I felt more in place. At least, at that point in time, I did not consider myself close friends with any of the people in the band. No, by the end of my first season, I felt like I had a family.

While sitting in the truck, watching my band members dancing from sheer joy, I felt alien. While watching people I once considered my family dance and smile at each other, I realized I could never be like them.

I am not the type of person who can stand up and start dancing on chairs; I don't know if I ever will be.


1 comment:

Chroma said...

You write such poignant blogs. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. D: