My Entire Flute Career free essay sample

My flute career ended when I picked up my flute and poised it at my lips, ready for a flute test. I was shaking, making it hard to keep my fingers on the keys.Everyone in the room seemed to know that I was terrible at the flute, and I couldn’t help to think that their encouraging smiles were mocking. I hated the flute with a burning passion, or perhaps I just hated the idea of not being the best. â€Å"Go,† my teacher said with a tap of the baton on my music stand. I played the first few notes smoothly, but my fingers trembled and were unable to press the right key formation in time and I missed several notes. Frustration rose to my cheeks, I looked up at the teacher, calmly put my flute down, and my composure fell. My eyes teared up as they did whenever I got frustrated. We will write a custom essay sample on My Entire Flute Career or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page I could imagine my parent’s disappointment and the looks they would send my way. Meanwhile, my teacher had pursed his lips and given me a zero. As I walked home I pondered every excuse I could think of for the overall B in flute class. My teacher was rude. The test was too hard. I had a sore throat. Anything. I burst through the front door and excuses exploded from my mouth, â€Å"I failed my flute test because it was too hard, and he is exceptionally rude and no one else in the class passed either and now I end with a B!† â€Å"I don’t really care about flute, as long as you learned something it’s fine,† my mother stated calmly from her desk. I began to realize the pattern my parents were never the ones applying pressure. As long as I learned something, it was okay.I continued the class for the rest of the year, but, by the end of the year, I had given it up. Effectively ending my flute career. It took me years to realize that this failure was the result of my inability to accept a flaw a perfectionist streak. Combined with pressure on my shoulders that I seemed to have materialized out of thin air, it was a recipe for failure. It took me about the same amount of time to realize I missed music, and while my rented flute was gone, I still had an old keyboard in my basement. It had spindly legs with dust all over the keys and sandwiched between the slats. It would occasionally give a hum or screech until I smacked it with my palm to get it going. I started with teaching myself the scales, then moved on to simple songs. I could read music well enough that I could pick up a sheet of music and slowly sight-read it, tapping out the keys to form a melody. I would practice it until it was fairly fluent. I sat in front of the keyboard as my fingers danced across the keys. I played the ‘complex symphony’, â€Å"Yankee Doodle† my first double handed song. I missed a few notes, but it didn’t bother me. I had time to improve myself. Teaching myself piano has taught me how to teach myself something, and how to prevent frustration. This opened a door. The curiosity that every young child possesses was rebirthed, and I finally understood that I could learn for the sake of learning. I could even teach myself if I had to. I was no longer frustrated with imperfections. Acceptance of these helps me self improve, identifying what I could change to make myself better.