Where could I go from here? I had spent the last 8 of my 9 years playing the Violin with no private teacher. I had spent the last 6 of my 9 years without a decent school orchestra, mostly overseas. I had spent the 8th year without a school orchestra entirely. And I had spent the last year as a failure seemingly, having made not first, but second chair alternate for SRO on my first year back from overseas military restationing. On top of that, I currently spend this 9th year with a conductor I feel is holding not just me, but our entire orchestra back from truly developing as an orchestra and as individual players. Someone who seemingly has such circumstances stacked against him surely wouldn’t believe that he had a chance of becoming a professional violinist, much less a virtuoso at that. However, that’s not the case. Regardless of my less-than-ample self teaching or lack of a challenging school orchestra, I continue to hold high the Biblical principle outlined in Proverbs 13:4 : diligence leads to success. Many fall to laziness. I admit, I had my time where I was not practicing as much as I should have. However, in light of my failures, I diligently press on; I diligently practice to educate myself where I lack teaching, so that I can become a virtuoso. When I tell people I want to become a virtuoso, many smile, laugh, politely dismiss me as simply an “ambitious youngster”. Perhaps there is much ambition in that desire, and perhaps it is a slight bit unrealistic. However, what sets me apart from the rest of violinists is my lack of fear to try. I am willing to put in the practice hours, playing concertos and sonatas that at the time may be way too challenging. However, the challenges do not hurt my resolve, and other’s dismissal does not dilute my goals; it only strengthens them. So whenever I pick up my violin to play, I ask myself not, “Could I really be that good?”. When I listen to my favourite violinist, Itzhak Perlman, I don’t say to myself, “I could never be that good.” I simply go to practice, and wonder, “Where can I go from here?” I realize that if I continue to practice, and find a good teacher, I could be much better than I am now. I feel have so much potential, untapped, unrefined, waiting. After pursuing my degree, residency is what would come next. By networking while I’m in college, in my best hopes and dreams I picture myself in a symphony overseas, however the VSO is my current aim for post-degree work. I know that I can go far from here. I am diligent enough to try.

I remember it clearly, stepping into that Coco Ichibanya on a cool fall night. I was a foreigner here, extremely out of my element. Being an African American, a military child, in Japan was quite an experience, being the extreme minority. I often felt like I was the only one that could understand me, and so I naturally expected to be alienated on such grounds. However, when I stepped into the restaurant, I was greeted with warm hospitality, as if I were a formal guest of high importance! Despite the language barrier, the waiters ensured I felt comfortable, safe, well-nourished, and satisfied. I was delighted at the experience and thought about this hospitality for a while. For the duration of our 3 year stay in Japan, virtually every place we traveled to, we encountered the same hospitality, the same honor. The Japanese, despite the fact that we were very much gaijin, or outsiders, held true to the value of respect and honor, despite the person they were serving. Doing so instilled in me a strong sense of responsibility to uphold these standards, wherever I went. However, being in Japan also created a false sense of security. The longer I stayed, the more I felt like the entire world was like Japan. Naturally, when we learned our next station would be Sicily, Italy, we were excited! I’ll never forget how disappointing the island was. The people were overwhelmingly rude and considerably racist. The island managed to consistently be dirty, with litter and cigarette butts clumping the ground more than weeds in some places, and stray dogs and cats running rampant. The cars drove on the right side of the road, yes, but the road they drove on was full of potholes and desperately needed a new paving. On top of all of that, the island was a desert farmland of sorts, and time seemed to carelessly amble on with all the urgency of a snail. However, despite the negatives, in order to stay sane, my family had to find ways to be joyful in such a unsavory location. If we did not learn anything from that island, we learned most of all how to live. Now, of course, one might say that you don’t learn how to live, you just live. Breathe. Eat. It's not a conscious action, you just do it because you need to. To which I would reply, yes, that’s true. But that is the definition of surviving. It doesn’t take much research to know someone would much rather live than survive. But I would neither prefer to live than survive. I would rather thrive. Thriving is surpassing the primitive needs of human nature, and surmounting the complacency of being generally satisfied. Yes, I feel that appreciating the simple things in life is essential. But in order to thrive, you must know how to appreciate simplicity and strive for the best. People in Sicily never cared to rebuild or repair anything. Instead, they reveled in the present as opposed to preparing for the future. They lacked vision. However, from this I learned that vision is key to thriving. So, in keeping with the principles of responsibility in Japan, while acknowledging my vision to identify my goals, I decided to make a clear college path: majoring in music performance as a violinist. Regardless of my less-than-ample self teaching or lack of a challenging school orchestra, I continue to hold high the Biblical principle outlined in Proverbs 13:4 : diligence leads to success. Many fall to laziness. I admit, I have before too. However, in light of my failures, I diligently press on; I diligently practice to educate myself where I lack teaching, so that I can become a virtuoso. When I tell people I want to become a virtuoso, many smile, laugh, politely dismiss me as simply an “ambitious youngster”. Perhaps there is much ambition in that desire, and perhaps it is a slight bit unrealistic. However, what sets me apart from the rest of violinists is my lack of fear to try. I am willing to put in the practice hours, playing concertos and sonatas that at the time may be way too challenging. However, the challenges do not hurt my resolve, and other’s dismissal does not dilute my goals; it only strengthens them. So whenever I pick up my violin to play, I ask myself not, “Could I really be that good?”. I simply go to practice, and wonder, “Where can I go from here?” I realize that if I continue to practice, and find a good teacher, I could be much better than I am now. I feel have so much potential, untapped, unrefined, waiting. I know that I can go far from here. I am diligent enough to try

There’s always a song in my head. Regardless of whether people think I’m insane or not, the truth of the matter is, I always have a song going on in my head. If I’m not listening to some music, I’m internally reciting some random concerto or humming my favorite tune and to myself. Music is always there, because it is the pulse that keeps the heartbeat of the world. Music touches the most eluded emotions, it bridges the farthest gaps, and provides closure to the most distraught souls. Of course, in order to experience this music for myself, I play and instrument: the violin. There is a personal comfort and an inward thrill I experience nowhere else. When I zip open my case, crack open the felt-covered interior, and take out my bow, I internally smile and relish at the work I might accomplish that day. Undoing the velcro strap from the violin and rosining my bow, my mindset changesーmy muscles relax, my breathing slows, and I sink into the world of music. Classical music to be exact. After a simple warmup, the outside world fades away, and I only focus on my instrument, perfecting my craft, scrutinizing over every mistake. Pull, push, pull-pull push goes my right arm with my bow. Dig in!, I might think, or ease off now一light! Simultaneously, numbers pop-up and disappear in my head according to my fingerings: 2, 1, shift, 1, 2. A quick adjustment here一a string needs retuning. A breath, paired with a quick pace around my room, and then I’m right back at it. My thoughts, colors and shapes, crash around my mental. Bright red streaks a heart, striking it while its vulnerable. Longing turns to anger under each accented note. Blue tears it apart, sadness overwhelming the anger. Green tries to rebuild it, but to no use, as purple descends upon it with an unrelenting fire, all consuming, never full. I like to think of my bow as a paintbrush, and my instrument a versatile canvas. I could paint the world, all from my room. Seconds tick by with every bow stroke, minutes with every double stop. When I finally take a break, hours have passed. By then, the serene blue sky faded to dark black, and to me, I appear to have time traveled into the future! Usually, my own ‘me-time’ stops after practice, as there’s dinner to cook and a dog to watch over. Surprisingly, dogs are much more time consuming than portrayed in movies! Who would have figured… However, even hours after my practice, my mind still finds itself winding back. Back to classical music, back to my haven. Back to painting the world.

Where could I go from here? I had spent the last 8 of my 9 years playing the Violin with no private teacher. I had spent the last 6 of my 9 years without a decent school orchestra, mostly overseas. I had spent the 8th year without a school orchestra entirely. And I had spent the last year as a failure seemingly, having made not first, but second chair alternate for SRO on my first year back from overseas military restationing. On top of that, I currently spend this 9th year with a conductor I feel is holding not just me, but our entire orchestra back from truly developing as an orchestra and as individual players. Someone who seemingly has such circumstances stacked against him surely wouldn’t believe that he had a chance of becoming a professional violinist, much less a virtuoso at that. However, that’s not the case. Regardless of my less-than-ample self teaching or lack of a challenging school orchestra, I continue to hold high the Biblical principle outlined in Proverbs 13:4 : diligence leads to success. Many fall to laziness. I admit, I had my time where I was not practicing as much as I should have. However, in light of my failures, I diligently press on; I diligently practice to educate myself where I lack teaching, so that I can become a virtuoso. When I tell people I want to become a virtuoso, many smile, laugh, politely dismiss me as simply an “ambitious youngster”. Perhaps there is much ambition in that desire, and perhaps it is a slight bit unrealistic. However, what sets me apart from the rest of violinists is my lack of fear to try. I am willing to put in the practice hours, playing concertos and sonatas that at the time may be way too challenging. However, the challenges do not hurt my resolve, and other’s dismissal does not dilute my goals; it only strengthens them. So whenever I pick up my violin to play, I ask myself not, “Could I really be that good?”. When I listen to my favourite violinist, Itzhak Perlman, I don’t say to myself, “I could never be that good.” I simply go to practice, and wonder, “Where can I go from here?” I am currently beginning the Bruch 1 concerto, and Bach 1 sonata, and realize that if I continue to practice, and find a good teacher, I could be much better than I am now. I feel have so much potential, untapped, unrefined, waiting. I know that I can go far from here. I am diligent enough to try.

It was simple act. The month was early April, but the sun had bloomed with the flowers, and the heat that followed was very much unexpected. Out of the kindness of her heart, my mother had pulled a crisp ten out of her purse and said, “Y’all can go on and get a cold treat from the store. You have to agree.” Elated, I took the bill from her, wasting no time to hurry out of the door with my sisters. A kind act was never to be taken for granted, and once we reached the freezer aisle of the nearby store, speculation began. Popsicles, chocolate bars, ice cream sandwiches… the possibilities were endless! Discussing amongst ourselves, we had settled on buying some type of frozen ice cup. I, being the gelato connoisseur and “crowned Prince of the Big Backs” of the family suggested the obviously superior flavor, lemon and strawberry. However, my sisters seemed to be stuck on the watermelon and blue raspberry flavor. Regardless of my natural predisposition towards artificially flavored watermelon foods, I found myself reflecting about the decision at hand. I could hold all three of them up over a petty flavor. I could suggest something other than freeze cups, or argue with perfect justification on how lemon is better than watermelon in every sense. But Matthew 5:9 claimed “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” It was a simple act, but in putting God first, and my sisters second, I learned what it truly means to be selfless. It means not getting your way. In something as small as a freeze cup flavor, of course someone would not be too distraught, but bigger issues still require the same maturity. Are you willing to put God first and honor someone else by sticking up for them in a bullying situation? Can you put God first, put a loved one second, and humble yourself to third by apologizing for something you know hurts them deeply? Can you put God first, and love your neighbor so much, that you put your embarrassment aside and preach the gospel? All three I have done before, and no matter what the situation, I’ve learned that is as humans operate the best when we are third to other, who are second only to God. No matter what the situation, though, it’s truly as way as surrending to a freeze cup.