Slowly and then all at once, the end of the school year crept closer to me and I still had not chosen an act for my Texas State 4-H Roundup competition. All motivation for the competition remained absent, or at least effectively hidden from sight.
Originally I had planned to dance with my friend. Together we had cheorographed a beautiful number and eagerly awaited the day when we could display our skills in front of the judges. But in late March my mom received an unfortunate call from her mother. My friend would need surgery on her foot.
This news crushed my spirits as I considered what it meant for the future competition. No foot, no dancing; no dancing, no partner; no partner, no dance; no dance, no act; no act, no competition.
I’m ruined,
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I just want you to gain confidence in front of people”
“Fine.”, I involuntarily said out loud. “I’ll perform a piano piece.”
My own words surprised myself, as they hastily escaped out of my mouth. When reality struck and I realized what I had committed to, a wrestling match instantly began in my head as I evaluated my reasoning. What have I gotten myself into? Piano – Really? Out of all things, I chose that which I hate performing most?
Each day for the next month I practiced my piano piece continuously. I used different techniques to polish little spots here and there, trusting that every method would contribute to the final war against nerves.
Gradually, I felt more comfortable with my piece, lessening my overall anxiousness and boosting my confidence. But soon the days grew long and the competition day approached.
On June 7th, 2016 I packed and loaded my bag into my mother’s car, and drove off to the State Competition.
During the drive I could not help but think of what the near future held.
I wonder how many people will be there? I asked myself. Will the piano feel weird or play differently?
Every scenario imaginable rolled through my head like a movie. And suddenly the most important question popped into my
When the second quarter ended, they waited while technicians set up the stage and sound props. This soon ended and Cassi and the other performers stepped onto the field in front of thousands. Cassi’s nerves switched into excitement as she looked at the crowd. It was sunny and beautiful and she loved to perform. This kind of performance, dancing, was what she was good at.
His father, John Crabbe organises his piano lessons with the Maestro with the intent that Paul “will be much better than me. Much better.” His parents’ constant, uncritical praise “Here’s to wonderful talent” provides Paul with a false sense of confidence, and an obsession to win and succeed driving him to the idea of achieving “perfection” as a pianist. Thus, Paul is raised with high expectations and “ridiculous dreams”, a fact that compounds his frustration and regret during the piano competitions in Europe. Indeed, the Maestro prophetically exclaims that “the self-satisfied go no further”.
In our minds, the state title was already won. Early season success led us to believe our prediction would come true. Meet after meet led to one win after another. We looked unstoppable. But things quickly changed later in the season when one of our better runners had to sit out for an extended period of time with a pulled hip flexor.
This is told through the narrator’s own perspective as he watches the scene play out, “I had never before thought of how awful the relationship must be between the musician and his instrument. He has to fill it, this instrument, with the breath of life, his own. He has to make it do what he wants it to do. And a piano is just a piano.” (Baldwin 383).
You are on the edge of your seat, bow in one hand with a cello in the other. All of your hours of practice have come down to this precise moment. Not many of the audience knows how hard you worked to play this piece. In fact, not many people really know who you are until they see how hard you have worked.
In anger Abby refuses to help them create a new dance and tells them to create their own. They create a new dance last minute with the help of their assistant dance teacher Gianna. They win first place, make sure people know they created their own dance and prove to Abby they were right to change the
days to come. Half an hour passed and finally it was time for the parli pro teams. Parliamentary Procedure was the crown jewel of the Holyoke FCCLA Chapter with an 18 year gold and silver national streak, the pressure was on for Alexandria and her team mates. Nerves going on overdrive Alex and her team entered the stage and took their seats. President Stewart began the trial meeting, looking out over the crowd their minds began to suffer from fixation, struggling to find their words and remember the order of business, tension was high when all of a sudden the room was still.
For the rest of the night I felt euphoric; nothing could drag me down. One extremely intense month of practice and I achieved what I thought was initially impossible. Based on this, I formed a fresh outlook on challenges: I can accomplish anything I set my sights on so long as I work for it with everything I have. However flawed this view may be, it will serve me incredibly well over the next few
Unfortunately, I was once again painfully reminded of my piano skills. My fingers were to playing the piano as Jeremy Lin was to being a Stanford student—which is to say a whole lot of nope and not-so-much of yes. This time, though, I was not walking away. With the help of my go-to educational source, YouTube,
“[My dance instructor] Cindy believed that ballet was richer when it embraced diverse shapes and cultures. There would be times in my career when I would struggle to remember that, but I would eventually come back to that conviction, that the stage on which I performed was brighter for having me, even if some in the audience or dancing beside didn 't always agree” (“Misty Copeland
The smell of horse clogged up my nose, The freshly cut grass of the area crunched under my boots. I was excited to compete in the teton county fair, I was very hyper. I love to compete with other people and I was determined to do the best that I ever could, even though I was trying a brand new horse that had never been to fair. I was about to step up into the spotlight with my horse, when the moment stopped in time.
For seven years, I have been blessed with the opportunity to learn to play an instrument that, in essence, is a quadruple piano. An instrument capable of producing countless combinations of sounds to fit any mood. When I practice, I experiment with various stop combinations. The sounds I choose dictate the feel of the piece. The same piece of music can be light and soft or loud and powerful.
At the turn of the century, I was born in Montgomery, Alabama. Out of my six siblings, I was the youngest. Being the youngest of six, I naturally grew-up a privileged child. Of all my childhood memories, I most remember dreaming of being a ballerina. I put my dream on standby as I grew up, but my hopes of professionally dancing remained.
For those willing to befriend effort and hard work, great treasures are in store, but only those very few who push towards success will earn them. As a ballet dancer at age nine, I knew not of the hard work which lay ahead, for my heart was set on my treasure. After watching a company class early that Saturday morning, watching the luminous dancers show off their lines and glide across the floor on their toes, I knew what my mind desired. I wanted to be just like them; I craved the ability to dance en pointe. Being en pointe takes many months of preparation, blisters, calluses, and sweat, but nothing was going to pull me away from my treasure.
“Okay, so get ready to do the dance, and show some power!” the coach, Krissy, said. What if I fall, and what if I forget the dance, I thought? I felt the nerves slowly dilute as the music began to play, Game Time by Flo Rida.