Years have passed since last I felt completely hollow, a void where no emotion could survive. The years pass, but my body remembers the fear I felt when I realized: I couldn’t feel happy. It was just before my freshman year of high school. Lockdown was lightening up and stores were opening, but I remained mostly indoors. I couldn’t explain to my parents how I felt, since they were struggling too. I couldn’t speak to my friends about it either, since texting felt more like a chore and I hardly ever got a response from them anyway. It wasn’t their fault - I wasn’t exactly the best friend either. We all had our own struggles, so it was better to keep them to ourselves so we wouldn’t ruin each others’ moods. For months, I let the exhaustion of depression consume me, until all I could see at the end of the metaphorical tunnel was darkness. Then one night I lay in bed and had such a vivid thought: “I know why people kill themselves.” Years have passed, and I remember this moment like it happened yesterday. That moment is, I think, what scared me straight. I was only 13, and I had figured it out: if I don’t do something now, then my life will end soon. I was so frightened. That fear is what saved me. That fear told me that happiness is more important than I had ever thought it could be. From that day on, I have made an effort to be happy. If not happy, then content. If I was mad or upset somehow, I would decide to reframe it by thinking along the lines of, “What a joy that I get to live in this world and have this emotion. What a joy to be alive and experiencing the ups and downs of life.” Time kept passing, and I couldn’t help but notice how good I felt when I played piano, how much I wanted to be playing piano when I wasn’t. During my junior and senior years of high school (by then I had mostly figured out the whole happiness thing) I participated in musical theater, something that brought me so much joy I withstood the difficulties of AP classes, extracurricular research projects and piano competitions without ever regretting I’d taken on so many tasks. Again, that bell rang in my head: happiness is key. Doing the things you love is key to enjoying your time on this planet. Life doesn’t happen to you: you create your own life. I want to create a life that I love to live. That involves finding a job that I enjoy. I have been teaching piano lessons for three summers now - two years of taking on students privately at my own studio, and one year substitute teaching at a local music studio. I love having fun with students, finding ways to make them explore their own creativity and make music with no fear of messing up or performing wrong. Music is part of what kept me sane during the darkest months of my life, and the successful feeling of learning how to play my favorite pieces would lift me up every time. There’s a joy that creating music can bring to people, and I love helping other people achieve it too. While I don’t know if teaching piano will still be what makes me happy 5 years from now, I know that I will keep music in my life. The friendships I’ve made while pursuing the thing that makes me happy are invaluable. It has opened doors that I’ve never thought possible. I want to keep giving to others, to myself, and do my part to make the world just a little happier. After all, we're only on this planet for so long.

When I was around 6 years old, my mom asked me what instrument I wanted to play. She had a philosophy that all children should participate in at least one sport and one musical activity at any given time, and was determined to nurture a well-rounded student, one who was not only active, but musical. Free-thinking. I started piano lessons when I turned 7. My mom revealed to me recently that my piano teacher was a very different kind of teacher than she had growing up. When she took lessons, my mom would mess up and her teacher would hit her knuckles with a pencil until she got it right. My mom ended up quitting piano after only a couple months. She told me how kind my teacher was, and how lucky I was to be taught by someone so patient, so forgiving, so willing to take certain sections slowly and with care, but also eager to push me forward into harder territory if I needed it. I ended up flourishing under piano lessons, leading to the effect music has on me today. Playing piano gives me an outlet to explore and mediate my emotions. Being a teenager, it gets easy to let yourself drown under the weight of your feelings instead of trying to help yourself get better. I think that, because of the struggle I've faced with learning my music, I understand how to get past hard tasks and work towards betterment. During the hardest times of my life, when I couldn't possibly get out of bed, when I stared off the balcony and thought "it can't hurt that bad...", when I tried to no avail to feel anything other than all-encompassing emptiness, music is what gave me a reason to keep going. When I sat down at the piano and let my fingers flow with the music I wanted to create, it gave me space to take another breath. The keys understood me, just like they understood its owners of the past, and with its music took my tumbling feelings on the wings of song and flew them up, up, to land amongst the stars. Music has saved me on multiple occasions, and gave me tools with which I enter the world confidently: the ability to encounter, recognize, and overcome obstacles. In pursuing a music career I am determined to help foster this same surety of self in other students, or in other children, teenagers, and adults who would benefit from the strength to keep going when the times get too tough to handle.