To The MUSIC WING
Chapter One – Fifth Grade
A tale of Music Nerdiness and Band Geekiness by Carolyn Anderson
School assembly at Kenzington's Southwestern Elementary School... I was ten years old, and new to the public school system. I had just switched that year after finishing the fourth grade in Saint Peter's Parochial School, where I'd been since Kindergarten. Although I sorely missed the atmosphere of SPS, this new public school felt as if I was seeing new colors for the first time.
At Saint Peters, we were in a class size of about 15 – 20, and there was only one class per grade – Kindergarten through 8th. Everything was very specific: first thing in the morning, we always had religion class, then we learned each subject at our teacher's discretion, then gym class (depending on what day), and we always had recess and rosary after lunch. I don't really remember having much of a personality or chance to truly express oneself during those 5 years. Art class was a rare treat, and the only musical opportunities we were given were to join the Church's Children's Choir, so I never really developed a genuine interest in music. Life then, as I reflect back upon it, was always so orderly and bland – a mind-numbing array of shades of beige and grey.
I watched the assembly somewhat interested in the cafetorium (both cafeteria and auditorium). The principal of my school, whose name I never bothered to know, introduced Mr. Vanek – a bald man who talked too much. I didn't listen to him very well. One by one, he was introducing some people behind him on the stage who were holding instruments of various types. Once their name was called and a small blurb about them and their instrument was announced, they each played a small part of a song on said instrument. It was pretty cool, but as I said, I was only mildly interested and in a day-dreamy, half-asleep state of mind. I never really paid it much attention until after the last musician played. It was then that Mr. Vanek said that if we had any interest in learning how to play one of these instruments, you could come up and get a form to have your parents fill out.
"What?" I thought. "They're gunna... let me do that? I can learn that?" Thoughts raced through my mind of big musicians playing beautiful concertos. I imagined an individual violinist with bright lights shining just on him, then I imagined myself appearing in his place. It was a gorgeous vision. I never really considered any other instruments; I just wanted to be that superb violinist. I hurried – well, more like frolicked – up to the stage and immediately got a form from Mr. Vanek.
A week later, I was told to leave my class during silent reading and went downstairs with three other kids from my class. All of us had already handed in our forms signed by our parents. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we were to have violin lessons with Mr. Vanek. I was so excited! Today, however, we were just supposed to come and be measured for violins. He had me hold up his violin, but it was too big, and another one was way too small, so I got a ¾ size. That's nearly as big as they come, but not quite. It was $30.00 each year to rent it, but I didn't think my mom would mind once I began bringing in thousands of millions of dollars for each of my concerts. I was shocked to see Mr. Vanek turn around, grab a hard black case and hand it to me – I hadn't thought that I'd get it so fast!! Then we all went back to our class and waited eagerly for the rest of the day to pass by.
The minute I got home I opened up the case and took out my violin and the bow and began to "play." It made the most horrific and the most beautiful sounds I'd ever heard. It wasn't beautiful because I'd never heard good violinists before, because I've always been partial to orchestrated music and symphonic bands, but it was gorgeous because it was ME playing. I was making those sounds. They were MY sounds... MY music.
And that was the beginning of it all..........