The Journey of a Young Musician

I’d like to introduce a very special guest, my daughter Rose who turned 16 years old today.

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“I still remember the day I started learning violin. I had been so excited. A wide grin was plastered on my face as I played ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ on my violin for the first time, and again when I played it for my fifth grade class. I screeched away on the instrument, having complete confidence that I was playing beautifully. Later on in the year, we went to go see the symphony perform for a field trip. I couldn’t hide my excitement as I told my classmates, “I can play what he plays! I can play that!” It wasn’t until later that I realized, I really was screeching away at it.

The same excitement came again when I picked up a guitar for the first time, three years later in seventh grade. I had asked my parents for one for Christmas, and they had agreed. We went to the music store a few weeks before, and I showed my mom the one I wanted. It was a sleek, black acoustic guitar. “It has to be this one,” I remember telling my mom. “Only this one.”

Through out the years, I became more advanced in my music, and began playing more instruments. In junior high school, it wasn’t exactly the coolest thing to play an instrument, so I tuned down my naturally born music geek until my freshman year of high school. That is when I decided I would audition for my high school’s chamber group. I figured I was a seasoned enough player by then. I thought I would make it into the group. It was between me and one other girl, and I knew I had it in the bag. Like many times before, I was wrong. I ran out of class crying as they congratulated the other girl. I didn’t stop crying until two hours later, after I had called my dad to come get me from school. I texted my mom, and she shared my grief with me. My dad never understood. Thinking back on it now, it’s me who doesn’t understand. I let another persons opinion of me affect how I believed in myself, and I’m still paying for it today. Since that day, almost two years ago, I have purposely skipped out on many chances to prove myself to others and to show them what I’m really made of.

Don’t get me wrong, I love music. I have since a young age, and I always will. I remember singing along to Taylor Swift on the radio with my mom as we went driving together. Music is so much a part of me, that I can’t even imagining living in a world where it would be absent. For a time being, I had lost my inspiration and my love to play. Now, I’ve found them. My inspiration comes from Tchaikovsky, greatly written musical numbers and songs, a good beat, and of course my parents. I would be no where without them cheering me on. I perform so much better knowing my mom is cat-calling and whistling at me from the audience. Afterwards, I’ll usually hear words like, “See? That wasn’t so bad. You did great! And now it’s over!” It’s words like these that have kept me going.

My love for music and my ability to play has increasingly grown, but it wouldn’t have even started if it weren’t for my parents. I now play seven instruments, and can’t wait to learn how to play more. There’s a whole world of music out there, and I’ve only just grazed the top of it.”

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