As the lights shine upon the glistening varnish of the violin, the orchestra strikes the last chord of the symphony. Applause echo through a great hall as the figures in the audience begin to rise and cheer. That surreal, dreamlike moment I yearned to make my reality while performing Twinkle Variations on the small, humble stage of my local church. I began my violin journey by watching the same DVD of Andre Rieu’s concert every night after dinner. My obsession with a colorful violin built out of Legos made everybody laugh, but my imagination went far beyond the soundless toy. After endless beseeching, my dad finally gifted me my first violin at the age of 4. Ever since, my passion for classical music has only gotten stronger. My fear of performing began to thaw with encouraging expressions from strangers in the audience. I eventually felt the resonance filling the space between the stage and men and women, sharing the emotions the melodies were creating. The path to finding my musical voice wasn’t straightforward. After all, nobody in my family even has a remote connection to music. Fortunately, my teachers and fellow musicians constantly motivated me to do my best, and my desire to play the violin only became stronger every time I put a pause and thought about spending my time on something else. I am grateful for having the opportunity to attend various prestigious summer music festivals such as the Boston University Tanglewood Institute and the Bowdoin International Music Festival, where I was exposed to the world-class professional musicians whose talents and skills profoundly inspired me to become one of them. Additionally, my local music community has also provided me a more up-close experience with professional performance and learning opportunities. I am able to share my joy of BPO concerts and other local performances with my family, friends, and teachers. Throughout the years, I have realized that people are divided by their race, religion, and social status. But music is truly a powerful tool to unite people regardless of their backgrounds. I devote myself to perform and to show the world how beautiful an art classical music is. I see myself attending music schools to receive my degrees in Music Performance that would enable my dream to become a professional violin performer. Ultimately, my goal is to become a member of a great orchestra, to communicate with the world using my violin, to inspire other people to love classical music and to unite people as my tiny contribution to become a better world.

“Misfitting Table leg” Staring at screws, wrenches and similar-looking parts scattered all over the living room floor, my younger brother and I were trying to assemble two identical coffee tables my dad bought from Ikea. Of course, my brother and I had a competition to see who could build the table better. The construction was all going well until I tried to attach a leg to the table and the parts didn’t quite fit together. I had a great determination to have my table turn out to be perfect, so to say I was frustrated about the misfit part, was an understatement. Soon after I noticed the misfit leg, my little brother finished building his table. It looked exactly like the model in the store, while my table had a leg that didn’t twist all the way in. My dad walked over to observe my table and laughed, saying that it was special and unique due to the half twisted leg. I was annoyed and had trouble trying to make the table leg fit in, but my dad explained to me saying, “It was just a manufacturing flaw and that’s ok. It’s unique in its own way!” Unknowingly, I was very much like that table in the sense that I started from being an innocent kid , trying to put myself together as an ideal teenager, and eventually growing to be who I am today. Not perfect but still unique. I wanted to be perfect much like I wanted my table to be. I was scared of imperfection and I also had an extreme fear of missing out. I wanted to be the ideal girl that every middle schooler dreamed of: pretty, wise, kind and talented - the person that everyone envied. The burning passion I discovered for music, specifically, classical violin, was established at a young age. While I was at home practicing Allegro from Suzuki Level One book, my classmates and friends were all having the time of their lives at our neighborhood playground, dashing after each other, laughing and yelling. But I didn’t care about being left out because I was too busy playing a mini concert for myself, having the time of my own life. However, as I grew older, I became the misfit leg of the table my dad brought home many years ago. No matter how well I did or how hard I tried, my classmates would laugh and mock me because I was always immersed in music, and seldomly hanging out with anybody. Despite desperately trying to prove to them that I had a special talent, I only got ridiculed even more. The effort I put in never seemed to match up with the demand. I ended up as the table with the misfit leg. Everyone thought it was strange that I preferred to stay inside to practice violin, but it brought me a sense of joy and serenity. My violin became my sanctuary and I found refuge every time I lifted it to my chin. My determination to be like my idols gave me the motivation to continue to work hard and push past the fact that I didn’t fit in with my classmates. Whether it would be watching Hilary Hahn performing the singing melodies of Bach, or Ray Chen striking the strings with the brilliant notes of the Sibelius Violin Concerto, I’ve always watched in awe, gathering motivations in hopes of being able to leave my mark in the music world. Looking back, I’m so grateful for the unfortunate coffee table. The misfit leg has taught me to be true to myself and made me realize what I want is to pursue music professionally in future. After all, it is the uniqueness and differences that make the world a wonderful place for everybody to live in.