In middle and high school, I was always the quiet kid at the edge of a crowd. I could usually be found at the back of the classroom or playing video games at home, but never at any of the school dances. It wasn’t because it was hard for me to talk to other people, or because I didn’t like my classmates. It just felt natural to stay detached from the other students and mind my own business for the most part.
But then, do you not have any friends? You ask.
It’s a legitimate question, given the circumstances I’ve described so far. However, my social life isn’t as dismal as you might guess. In fact, I would say it’s pretty promising: I have a close group of friends that, in the end, shares one interest.
Music.
In high school, it was the band kids. Specifically speaking, the jazz band kids. I joined the school jazz band about a month into my freshman year. In the beginning I was mildly terrified; the music was difficult (the first song I attempted to sight-read was "Spain", by Chick Corea) and the upperclassmen were frighteningly stern (everyone meet fantastic bassist Philip Chuah). However, as time went on and I adapted to playing harder music, I spent less time worrying about the music and more time actually playing it. Or at least I tried to.
Anyway.
Sometime during the tumbling roller coaster ride that was high school I became fast friends with a few of my band mates. At first, it was my fellow alto sax player that did the crazy solos. Next, it was the students I played in the school combo with, and the band director who sighed in exasperation every time we played "Fly Me To The Moon." And then it was a rag-tag group of students that I met in musical rehearsal, normal band classes or simply in the band room after school. These friends I’ve always treasured; we shared many funny and memorable experiences playing music together, and I can always spend quality time with them.
Then, in college, it was my acapella group. The Davidson College Nuances numbered 15 students (give or take a certain Sophia who’d been abroad for the first semester). From the beginning, they were welcoming and raucous and caring and crazy, but it was a good kind of turmoil. The diversity in the group was striking. We had a father-type country singer, a kind hippy, a floaty person, and a guy who sometimes walked as though he’d ridden a horse bareback for five hours (and bonus, a girl with demon eyes sometimes), among many others. However, one thing connected all of us despite our strange quirks. Music. It was our passion for singing fun and beautiful songs that had brought us together (with the exception of one Japanese guy who couldn’t sing, so he beat-boxed instead). In the beginning, I was still that kid at the edge of the crowd, half-hoping to have been born with the power to become invisible at will. However, as I acclimatized to the change in lifestyle and became familiar with the people in the group, I began to see them more and more as valuable, trustworthy (when sober) friends. They were a big part of making me feel at home in college.
Music has been a large part of my life. Despite being the huge introvert that I am, I’m proud to say that music has given me a lot of good friends and opportunities. My jazz band and acapella group rehearsals have been one of the most fun times I’ve had at college, and through these experiences I’ve become even better at what I do.
So a message for the budding musicians trying to learn "Für Elise" on piano: stick with it and keep music a part of your life, because I promise you that it’s worth it in the end.
And for the older people, it’s never too late to start playing an instrument. Never.
