Finding new perspectives through forgotten melodies
It’s not the alarm that wakes me, but my old habit of waking up at 7:30 a.m. I fall back asleep but wake again every so often, nervous that I will miss a class when there is none.
In my old school life, my schedule included seven classes a day. But this is a new school now; there is only a single 90-minute period for each class each week.
Distance learning has required some creativity. For wind ensemble, many students didn’t have access to their instruments — instead, my band director assigned a series of journal entries, composer biographies and concert program designs. Other classes have remained quite similar, albeit at a slower pace. In world history, we continue with our traditional lessons through video lectures and group projects.
In my old school life, volleyball was a way to improve my athletic ability, acquire important skills and relax my mind. But extracurriculars now are canceled. Surprisingly, it’s not the exercise and the endorphins but the emotional support and social interaction from my teammates that I miss most. I regret not cherishing that last practice before the abrupt email that suspended our season.
Without a strict schedule, I’ve found new freedom that I had previously thought impossible. While I feared early on that extra time would rob me of my ambition and drive, this liberty has actually provided me with more motivation than before. For example, I used to practice marimba only when necessary, as for an upcoming audition or performance. But now I’ve rediscovered my passion for the instrument, the very reason I chose to devote myself to percussion. I immerse myself in the pure delight of playing music, and in the mesmerizing sounds that can be drawn from elegant bars of rosewood with worn yarn mallets.
The alarm clock is dead now. I live in another world, one without a sense of time, apart from the work and stress that had consumed my every moment. This new world abounds with melodies from a forgotten time and reminds me to appreciate the small things that are too often lost.