By Ana Lucia Caballero, class of 2024
I have been inundated with music since before I was born. My grandmother was the life of the party with her piano. As a baby, my dad lulled me to sleep by playing the congas. Since I can remember, holidays have been filled with joyful noise. However, as much as it filled my surroundings, it took me a while to experience how music could fulfill me.
At four, I started taking piano lessons, although my memories of playing as a child are hardly pleasant. As my parents grew excited about my skill, they started asking me to play for guests. It disturbed me. I didn’t feel comfortable. The feeling wasn’t exclusive to music. It was difficult for me to accept positive, emotional feedback. When I received academic recognition, I didn’t tell my parents to avoid being congratulated. As a result of my emotional block, I stopped playing for three years.
At eleven, I became obsessed with a game called Piano Tiles. I spent so much time playing online that the songs became stuck in my head, and I started playing them on the piano. But this time, it was just for me.
The story could end here, but music isn’t meant to be lonely. Instruments are loud for a reason. In the summer of 2021, a High School Rock Band singer requested me to join the band to replace their graduating pianist. I accepted the offer for the sake of doing them a favor.
I began taking Rock Band as an elective, remaining mostly silent during the class period. This wouldn’t last. Brainstorming songs for Halloween, the band leader proposed playing the salsa “Brujería”, a demanding piece to learn on the piano. I took the challenge and learned the song in two weeks. The band’s response was beyond anything I had allowed myself to experience before; I had never felt such admiration. For the first time, I saw the power of what I was doing. And, over the course of the rehearsals, I started spending more and more time with this group. Over the year, the rock band grew into my school family. The final concert of the year became one of my happiest memories, leaving me desperate for the following year to be back.
The Rock Band made my Junior year the most wholesome of my life. Inside the music room, I became our band director’s “right and left hand,” in his own words. And with his thirty years of experience and his reputation in our community, I was honored to be a subject of his appreciation. My band members became a family who look up to me as inspiration. I now see that our God-given gifts are meant to work for, give, and receive. That is exactly what the connection between the group looks like, and the effect we have on our audience when we perform.
Outside of the music room, this experience, which began as something minuscule, turned out as something massive. It gave me a focus outside of academics, teaching me the importance of working for a passion and expanding my creativity. It strengthened my determination, perseverance, and patience by showing me that 99% percent of my excuses were invalid. My goals started becoming a reality only after accepting that fact. It granted me a sense of confidence that I transmitted into my social skills and public speaking. It taught me to organize my priorities. Most importantly, after struggling with showcasing my emotions and feeling unworthy of appreciation, I grew overwhelmingly grateful for the trust and love my parents and band members have placed in me throughout these years, and saw the magic of the musical connection I was fortunate to be a part of. They have opened my eyes to the truest part of myself, who, thanks to them and to my journey, is the person I now am confident to show to the world.