At the start of sixth grade, little ol’ I decided that it would be a magnificent idea, just the best idea I have ever came up with, to play the cello, still do not regret it yet. The only reason I wanted to play the cello, was my brother, he played the viola and was excellent at it. I always wanted to be like him, he is just a great person. I was going to play the same instrument, but he told me to play the cello, being little me I just agreed to everything he said. The one concern that I used to be always certain about when I started is that I would never like playing the cello or ever be at least acceptable, as I wanted to. It was the very first year of me learning how to even play it or what notes are, no matter how much I tired or played,
The first time I picked up an instrument was at the age of 7 when I was in third grade. You can call it fate, luck, or my destiny but I was one of the three students that was able to join my elementary orchestra. Of course like any kid, I was afraid if had the ability to do such a thing. I mean it’s not every day you’re recruiting into the arts. I kept asking myself “can I do this? Will I fit in this group?” in other words can I be part of the classical music culture? It wasn’t till my first school concert where I had my first solo of “My Heart Will Go On” the love theme from Titanic that I was able to express the countless hours put into a 15 second solo. After that experience I never questioned if I belonged to the culture. Instead I focused on the next story I would tell on stage with the music score in
For almost 8 years of my life, playing the cello has influenced my life in so many extraordinary ways. Choosing the cello over any instrument, was probably one of the best decisions I will have ever made, in the 5th grade. The violin was way too high, the viola was way too small, while the upright bass was way too big. I knew at that very moment that the cello was the instrument that I wanted to play. The warmth of the instruments tone, and the powerful sound that came out of the f-holes drew me in so quickly.
At the age of ten, my parents decided that I should learn how to play an instrument. In addition, they also chose which instrument I should learn, the guitar. I had no interest in learning the guitar, because all I wanted to spend my leisure time on was improvising my soccer skills. However, my parents believed soccer was a waste of my precious time, time which I should be using to focus on school and expanding my brain by taking on a difficult task, such as learning to play music. This was contrary to what I believed, but I had to do it or else my parents would be displeased. Therefore, the following week, I began taking guitar lessons.
After this point, I begged my father for an instrument. Now I don’t know about you but when I was in middle school we were forced to learn how to play the recorder. As a small socially awkward person, I really grew to enjoy playing it, so naturally, I picked up the clarinet.
When it was Friday night, 5 friends were making their way to a haunted house. These friends were Alex, Brennen, Tommy, Gerardo, and Zeke. For some reason these kiddos thought it would be cool to make a reenactment of Paranormal Activity and bring all this equipment to hunt down ghosts and get Cheetos on the way as well. Unfortunately they didn't know where they were going they found the motel on google maps. After the Paranormal gang was prepped and had everything ready they went out to Walmart for some extra supplies. Alex was trying to persuade the group to get Cheetos, but instead they got Lays, which really ticked Alex off. Brennen and Tommy went to go get camping equipment and Zeke rolled up with a snuggie and asked for it. Gerardo, for
My heart was beating and my hands were sweating. My teacher asked me a question and I wanted to cry. I didn’t know how to say my response in English and was afraid of the other kids making fun of me because I thought my accent was too strong. All the students stared. “Just answer the question” one girl murmured. Every day I’d sit in the same seat without talking. And even though I had spent a month in the same classroom I felt uncomfortable being there. I moved to the United States from the Dominican Republic when I was twelve. I knew the word for “mariposa” was “butterfly,” and I knew how to introduce myself, but that was about all. Some people would even become frustrated due to the fact they couldn’t understand me, or the other way around. Knowing how they felt about me not being able to communicate made me want to shut myself off from them.
It was rumored in the third grade that I would have my right hand amputated. This rumor was stemmed from the fact that I broke my arm, where both the ulna and radius were snapped. The people that surrounded me, being doctors and family were frightened at the sight of me holding my dangling hand with the other. Breaking my arm of itself was not a challenge, but it was the recovery that would challenge my determination and character.
Nine years ago, when I was in kindergarten, I always looked up to my sister as a role model. If she liked a certain food, I would like it; if she did something, I would want to do it also. So, it only made sense that when she started to play piano, I would want to play too. For months, I was like a mosquito to my dad, asking him when I could start playing piano. Two years later, my wish came true. When my sister went off to college, my dad asked me, “Do you want to start playing piano?”
In this Fall semester of 2017, I will have a higher chance of becoming more successfully than what I had not achieved in the previous spring semester this year. Due to the circumstances I had outside of school with revolving working and paying for my necessities, such as my school books, and my transportation fee for the MTA. Also my work schedule was very time consuming because it would take away my free time I had in the weekend to focus on my studies and assignments. From working 12 hour shifts on consecutive days, and to then have school the next morning at 8 a.m. Leaving me very fatigue not allowing me to perform at my best in the classroom. I had try to ask days off to give myself days to work on my assignments but no one was available
Tears filled my eyes as I saw the blood in my hands and all over the lower section of my body. My parents rushed over and saw my bike over me with leaves and blood pouring out in me.. They pulled me up. I finally noticed the pain I was in. I noticed grass and leaves seeped into my injuries that made me look worse. This sounds like a bad thing, but how did it happen? What lead up to this? Well, let me explain...
I attended this forum on Tuesday, January 24, in the special collections library right behind Morris Hall. There were around 20 people total in the discussion, and we had a very balanced, spirited debate. I throughly enjoyed this event because it allowed me to learn a lot about events and ideas that are very important in this time, and it allowed me to hear and learn about a lot of different view points and opinions these controversial ideas. I believe that part of the beauty of UGA is in its diversity, and that ability to have such a diverse mix of people really added to our debate and the experience in general. I believe that the ability to have such a civil and lively conversation is something that will be crucial in mending this split country.
It’s the first day of my junior year at Senior High school. Summer is coming to a sad, depressing, dramatic end and a new semester a very important year is coming upon me. 2 sentences 33 words
As a young child I never mentioned a recurring monster; I didn't have one under my bed or in my closet, but the idea of monsters was not completely omitted from my childhood. Instead they were incorporated as punishments for misbehaviour from the adults in my life. This pattern occurred not only with my parents but also with my grandparents. For various reasons when I was younger I wasn't able to see my grandparents as much as my brothers had been able to when they had been my age. This ‘tradition’ of being threatened with a monster was one my brothers had also experienced. One of the most memorable encounters I've heard is when my grandmother threatened my brothers with a visit from “el viejo”(the old man) if they didn’t behave. With my brother being an energetic six year old known as a tornado that broke everything, my grandmother often became frustrated when taking care of my brother and would often use
Ever since I can remember, I had always marveled at what was beyond the capacity of many to understand. No, not politicians. I mean an existing plane beyond the one we are physically constricted to; the far reaches of our universe. I recall when I was a very young, how I could gaze up at the constellations. I was completely dumbfounded by how there possibly could be all of those mysterious lights dotting the pitch black night sky. How could these luminous orbs be, in fact, farther than I could ever travel in my lifespan. As I lay upon the grass looking up into the sky, I knew that I was destined to do something to improve our scope of understanding the “final frontier.”
my way. I was grateful to change because I always experienced more and more and met life long friends. However nothing is comparable to the change I experienced when suddenly waking up in the airplane after my 12 hour flight. Isn't it fascinating how we can wake up across the world suddenly? It seems like a dream but it’s reality, and when you realize that this is no dream you suddenly feel that blood rush and fast pulse pumping through all veins and hitting your head where you can feel the pulse pushing through from the inside of your ears. It’s scary imagining how people will react to someone foreign, people aren't used to the unknown and neither am I. It is all about creating a learning experience to live in the complete unknown.