Personal Narrative: My Band Experiences

I never considered the repercussions of my choices on a sixth grade scheduling card. After all, the event seemed frivolous enough. Most of the card had been predetermined for me, I simply had to decide whether to fulfill my performing arts credit through band or choir. Whatever propelled me to check of choir that day triggered the next six years as a choir kid. The majority of my friends originated in choir. Together we spent countless hours around the piano, singing anything from out latest choral music to the top song on the radio. Together we all sacrificed our lives to join the musical. Together we viewed the choir room as a sacred place, a sanctuary. It was home. As high school advanced, choir became more competitive. While the competition

Unlike choir, my bandmates were much more supportive. As I struggled to play a scale everyone clamored to share advice in and help me. I found myself spending more time in the band room, gossiping about the latest song or humorous thing someone said in class. With band I found the loving and empathetic community I always wanted. One day I realized I considered band as my home instead of choir. As my band experience progressed, my choir digressed. I found that no matter how hard I worked or how much praised I received I found myself unsatisfied. Slowly, I found myself dreading to go to choir. I simply felt defeated. When senior year came, I did not mark down choir on my scheduling card. Worried I was making an impetuous decision, I ran to a trusted teacher for advice. I sat deflated on top of a desk in his classroom as I explained my conflicted feelings towards choir. “I seems like you already made your decision,” he said when I finished my lament. My head snapped up in surprise. How could he see that when I had not fully made a choice yet? “But I love choir,” I insisted, yet the words seemed foreign on my lips. The blatant truth was I did not love choir, I loved choir, as in past