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Expression

If being in high school has taught me one thing, it’s that there are many forms of expression. Expression could be anything to a high school student: the football player expresses himself by laying out guys on the field; the cheerleader expresses herself by flipping around the gym. The mathlete expresses himself by memorizing equations; the goth expresses herself by listening to loud music and coloring her hair interesting colors. Expressing yourself in whichever way you choose helps you relieve the average stress that is acquired in a high schooler’s life. What is my form of expression, you might ask? Well, I’m not very talented in math or football. But I do have something I dearly love. One word: music.



There is always a wonderful, magical sensation that sweeps through me when I step through the doors of my school’s band room. I immediately feel relaxed and confident, and all of the day’s worries completely leave me. As my fingers fly up and down the shiny silver keys of my sleek, black clarinet, I forget who I am and lose myself in the music. Everything fades away. It is just the music and I, and that is it. When I practice, it’s an escape from every day troubles. All that matters to me while I’m playing is the notes and how they sound.



Music has always been in my life. I learned to stand by pulling myself up on the stereo speakers, playing wonderful classical music. Bobbing to the pulse of the music, I also learned to walk by listening to the masters: Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach. When I was older, I made up dances, spinning around my room in flashy tutus and beaded necklaces. I longed to be able to pick up an instrument and create the gorgeous sounds I grew up listening to.



And that fateful day came, the day I was able to choose an instrument to create gorgeous sounds. School band began in fifth grade. All the little fifth graders filed into the band room and waited in line to be fitted for their own instrument. My eleven-year old mind was exploding. I was very torn; what instrument should I choose? I gazed out across the tables full of shiny instruments. My eyes started on the flute; it had a dainty sound. The saxophone had a very reedy tone; the trumpet was loud and important. The drums were rhythmic and fun. An older gentleman cleaning a spit valve glanced in my direction. He smirked at my bewildered gaze as he said, “You can try out on two instruments, young lady.”



Only two? My heart sank deeply. How in the world could I only pick two? I wanted to play them all! I wanted to create lovely sounds on all these marvelous instruments spread out before me. I remembered a conversation I had with my grandmother earlier. She begged me to at least try out on the flute. Eager to make her happy, I selected the flute. I pictured myself blowing into the silver instrument, hitting high notes, and making people gasp in pleasure. The thought satisfied me.



But what other instrument should I try? I scanned the table, looking at all my other options. That’s when I saw it: long and black with elegant silver keys upon it. It sparkled in the room’s light. A reed was securely fastened to the mouthpiece, eagerly awaiting my lips. Before I had even brought it to my mouth, I knew this was what I was destined to play.



The clarinet I bought weeks later would become my closest friend. I knew everything about him, and he knew everything about me. When I played my clarinet, everything was going to be all right. Nothing could stop me when I held my wonderful instrument between my hands. My clarinet and I have been together for the past seven years, and I know we still have several more years to come.


My clarinet and the music I play is my own form of expression. Music exists all around me every day of every week. It has been there in both good and bad times. I close my eyes and get lost in what I’m playing, and that is when I am the happiest. Folks in high school have their own means of portraying themselves. I’m not an athlete or a science genius, but I have my music and my clarinet, and that’s something that will not be changing anytime soon.



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This article has 8 comments. Post your own!

Garnet77 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jul. 5, 2011 at 11:54 pm:
I totally love this!!! (I actually think I may have read it in a forum thread once...) But I can relate perfectly! I'm not in band, but I am in a chorus, and I love music! This was very well written. Great job! :)
 
musicalmolly replied...
Jul. 6, 2011 at 9:52 am :
Thank you! You probably did read it in a forum, I posted it there once! And I wish I was in chorus too. I do love singing haha :)
 
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DemonXxXchild903 said...
Jun. 21, 2011 at 3:24 pm:
ahh! Loved this! I can relate to you! I adore my band and chorus class above all classes! I play drums which is slightly different then the clarinet! :P Very nice job!
 
musicalmolly replied...
Jun. 22, 2011 at 4:40 pm :
Thank you so much! :)
 
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CarrieAnn13 said...
Jun. 18, 2011 at 11:22 pm:
I wish I could love music as much as you do, musicalmolly.  But I dislike Band class very much, even though I do enjoy playing my clarinet.  I understand from this piece (and your username) that music represents you.  I hope you continue doing what you love!  This was an excellent article.  Keep writing!
 
musicalmolly replied...
Jun. 19, 2011 at 10:53 am :
Thank you so much CarrieAnn13! It was so hard for me to put my love of music into words. I'm glad that I could accomplish it though!
 
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NinjaGirl This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 17, 2011 at 11:10 am:
This is really good. I'm not musically talented at all, but i could still imagine the awesome feeling you get walking into band class as i read this. :) Very good work!
 
musicalmolly replied...
Jun. 19, 2011 at 10:51 am :
Thank you so much NinjaGirl! :)
 
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