What genuine musicians do...

The busiest day I have had as a musician through the whole year has been Solo/Ensemble Festival: a full day of students singing and playing pieces of music prepared for a judge and possibly a small audience. I participated in eight events, overall learning 13 pieces of music. I had five acts as a vocalist, four collaborative pianists, three acts as a violinist, two lovely directors, and a partridge in pear tree–it was overwhelmingly awesome and beautifully exhausting.

As my day at Solo/Ensemble was about halfway over, all was well until I came across something that not only didn't amuse me but also broke my heart. I ran into a student from a different school whom I had known from various other music events; the only thing–after years of "only" perfect ballots–this student was concerned with was getting a "Best of Center" rating for their solo (an honor distinguished to only one act during the day by the judge–this student hadn't achieved this yet). This person is considering doing music in college, and this person had a very competitive state of mind about music. I knew that my friend's thought process had been poisoned to believe that music was to be won or lost with a prize of glory or scholarship money. Nothing else mattered to them. 💔

I was brought up in a cornucopia of amazing musicians, many of them brought up by the choral legend Weston Noble. One of the many things people admire about Weston's legacy was his satisfaction coming from a beautiful sound made from passion and artistry. "Stay humble," he always said. 

Has this student I've come across never been given the all-important spiel of "This whole process is subjective, and full satisfaction can never be achieved when music is made for a measly score?

If anyone is a victim of a goal to be "holier-than-thou" principle, I'll tell you–as someone with quite a few "honors" and "prizes"–what the satisfaction of music came from for me during Solo/Ensemble:
- Playing a beautiful, challenging solo on an instrument that is not of my most comfortable skill 🎻
- Feeling the sounds and emotions of an ensemble blending to become one 🎼
- Admiring the skills of another instrumentalist that I had never thought of before 🌟
- Keeping up when the going gets tough on a piece 💦
- Observing growth on the technical skills from previous performances 👍
- Appreciating the beauty of a different kind of choral music 🎨
- Making an audience laugh with the performers because the pieces exude fun 😂
- Resting after a passionate final performance 🌹

This event was an opportunity to learn about one's self as a musician and as a collaborator, both with fellow students and music educators. I am appalled for anyone led to believe music to be merely a competitive ground to spill blood on and to be taken for granted. Music is a gift, a feeling, an art, a language; use it with passion. Remember, Weston said, "Stay humble."

Easy as αβɣ

Before I get into the specifics, there is something I want to clarify: I despise asking for help. There are three possible reasons for this:

1. There have been many times when the help is ineffective because I usually can't follow the process of what the teacher is talking about, and as a result, I get more confused.
2. As a child, I felt patronized when being given help.
3. I'm generally anxious about being an inconvenience to someone else, even if the person I'd be asking is a teacher.

Generally, for most of the time I've been in high school, I almost never lost in the process of anything. If I got off course, usually the first explanation would get me sailing again. Math was definitely an area I didn't find too much trouble in until...*sigh*...vectors...
(one thing to know for sure: 3 ...'s = 👎)

Almost every day for this previous unit, I went to the teacher's desk during our work time in a panic. I felt super self conscious because I usually do well in this class, and this time around, it seemed like I was the only one who didn't get it. The teacher presented in a way that made sense when taking notes, but the math didn't click. I was lost.

After class one day, I was leaving feeling anxious and confused; I felt like crying. As I was about to leave, my teacher told me something I had not really thought about before:

This is a good unit for you because it's the first time in a while that you don't just get it. With the career want to go into, you'll come across problems more complex than any problem you'll have in math class. You just need to find a starting place.

I had forgotten that I actually have had to start from scratch before. In seventh grade, I needed to find a way for me to not hash out in anger all of the time, and that took help. In ninth grade, I needed to gain confidence in myself to perform in Individual Speech for the first time, and that took help. In eleventh grade, I needed to look for a brake in my brain for when my brain is moving 1,000,000 miles/minute in the wrong direction, and that still takes help.

Asking for help isn't weak. It isn't anything to be ashamed of. It's not a position that makes you seem any less smarter or less competent. Help–whether in the form of an explanation, a person to talk to, a prayer, a song, or a voice saying, "You're not alone."– can be enough to make you a bit stronger.

💕