Adam Rawley, GPC Student

The Performance

During the fall of 1998, I was a freshman at James Madison University in Harrisonburg, Virginia. The previous spring I had auditioned for the prestigious JMU School of Music. For my instrument of study, the euphonium, there were fifteen people auditioning and only three were going to be accepted. I had worked very hard and practiced until my lips bled in preparation for this day. After performing a near flawless audition, I was confident, but still nervous about my chances. Three hours later I was told that I had been accepted, and I thought I was on my way to becoming on of the best high school band teachers ever.

On the first day of the semester every freshman that played a low brass instrument, which consisted of tubas and euphoniums, had to talk about their musical background and perform individually in front of all the other low brass members. That morning I had gone to the store and bought a new black double-breasted suit with a pair of crocodile skin shoes that were shined so well I could see my reflection in them when I looked at my toes. I walked into that room with my shoulders back and my head held high; I was beaming with confidence. The professor came in and announced the order in which we would perform, and I was last. At the time, I was so confident; I thought to myself, “He is saving the best for last.” Oh how my attitude would change when it was my turn to perform.

The first person to perform was a tall lanky kid named Daniel. He looked as coordinated as a thirteen-year-old boy who had just gone through a six inch growth spurt in three months. His voice was frail and feeble, and I wondered how this kid was able to pass the audition. Then Daniel got into his musical background. He said he started playing the euphonium in the fifth grade, and he had taken private lessons six years. At that point my heart started beating a little faster and my mind started to race. He had taken private lessons for six years? I did not even know what private lessons were. I do not even think anyone offered to give private lessons in my hometown. Then he started to play. That guy was amazing! His intonation and pitch were perfect. It seemed as if I were in a master class listening to one of the top euphonists in the world. Daniel had blown my mind. I assumed this kid must be some freak of nature, and that he was by far the best incoming freshman. To my agony I was wrong.

As the rest of the guys came up one by one, they all told a very similar story to that of Daniel, and played as well if not better than he did. After each guy came and went, my palms began to sweat so much that my pants legs were wet underneath my hands. The necktie I was wearing seemed to get tighter around my neck making it nearly impossible to breath, and my heart was beating so hard, I knew the person sitting next to me could hear it. Then, to my horror, the professor called me up to perform. To this day I do not know how I made it to the front of that room. My legs felt like jello and I thought I was going to pass out, but somehow I made it. First came my musical background, but I had no background. No private lessons. No special honors. I was a mere infant compared to the other guys. Then came the time for me to play. As I tried to take my first breath, my throat was so constricted that I could not breathe in. Therefore my first note sounded as if I was an elementary school student who had just picked up the instrument for the first time. That horrific sound echoed around the room and I could not get it out of my mind. I heard a little snickering from the audience, and I saw faces looking at the floor in embarrassment for me. At that point my heart dropped. The confidence I came in with was gone, and I was so embarrassed that I could not even speak. As I left the room I could feel everyone talking about me behind my back, and I never felt comfortable around them again.

Because of that specific moment in my life, I stopped playing music, stopped going to class, and eventually had to drop out of school because I was in such a depressed state. It has taken me seven years to totally overcome that day and give college a second chance. Isn’t it amazing we can allow one specific moment in time can define a large part if not all of our lives?