BOSTON
It was spring of my junior year in high school when the fliers for my school talent show were posted on every wall, every corner of the school. It was impossible to miss. I will admit that I considered signing up for a moment, but it was only a moment. I had never performed my music in front of an audience before, and the idea made my heart race. However, my brother had a different idea. Ahmed was a year older than me, so he as well saw the fliers everywhere. That afternoon after school, he came into my room while I was singing my heart out and showed me a flier. "You have to do it! You're amazing!" he said. We went back and forth with me resisting, but in the end, he convinced me to audition. I mentioned the talent show to my parents, but they brushed it off assuming it was one of my many young fantasies.
So the next day, I signed up for the talent show auditions, and I had approximately a month to practice before the auditions. I played every song on my iPod and every video on YouTube, but one song spoke to me. Boston by Augustana was one of my favorite songs. The lyrics told a story about a girl that was hurt and tired and wanted to escape, to look for something different and exciting. Those lyrics spoke to me and so did the music, so I practiced that song and made it my own.
The day of auditions, I brought my guitar to school. For the first time, I felt like a very established musician, performing at my first gig. However, as the clock changed hours, I would find my body getting tenser, my mind wandering and thinking of alternative ways of death. My heart was beating fast, and my face was flushed. I was awfully nervous. When I walked into the audition waiting room where all the other performers were, I noticed that not a single person was as nervous as I was. The difference between them and myself was confidence. They stood strong and knew what they were worth, they were charismatic and ready. I envied them so much.
I played my song over and over again in the corner of the room, with my brothers cheering me up, assuring me that I would do great. When it came my turn to audition, I could swear my soul flew out of my body. Walking into the room, I looked at the several judges; great musicians and dancers in my school, they were quite intimidating. How could such talented students ever be impressed by my audition. I wanted to run away. I wanted to go to Boston. However, looking over to my brother who insisted on watching gave me a little more strength. Someone believed in me, so it was my time to believe in myself.
I played that song better than I had ever played it before, not one wrong note or word. Serenity fell over me when I played that last chord, and I could feel angels hovering over me. I looked up to the judges and they were almost speechless. "Wow." they said. "That was beautiful!", "Perfect." and etc. Every compliment raised my spirit more and more. I made it to the next round, and the next with the audience growing each time, and I was permitted to perform in the talent show, but I never did.
My old conservative Egyptian father stepped in when he realized my young fantasy was coming true. "No daughter of mine will be a musician!" he said. I begged and argued for days, but without the permission of my father, I could not perform in my school's talent show. However, this experience showed me that I had the potential to make my dreams come true. My competence in playing the guitar gave me confidence, and through music, I could really and truly define who I really am. That's what language does, right?
So the next day, I signed up for the talent show auditions, and I had approximately a month to practice before the auditions. I played every song on my iPod and every video on YouTube, but one song spoke to me. Boston by Augustana was one of my favorite songs. The lyrics told a story about a girl that was hurt and tired and wanted to escape, to look for something different and exciting. Those lyrics spoke to me and so did the music, so I practiced that song and made it my own.
The day of auditions, I brought my guitar to school. For the first time, I felt like a very established musician, performing at my first gig. However, as the clock changed hours, I would find my body getting tenser, my mind wandering and thinking of alternative ways of death. My heart was beating fast, and my face was flushed. I was awfully nervous. When I walked into the audition waiting room where all the other performers were, I noticed that not a single person was as nervous as I was. The difference between them and myself was confidence. They stood strong and knew what they were worth, they were charismatic and ready. I envied them so much.
I played my song over and over again in the corner of the room, with my brothers cheering me up, assuring me that I would do great. When it came my turn to audition, I could swear my soul flew out of my body. Walking into the room, I looked at the several judges; great musicians and dancers in my school, they were quite intimidating. How could such talented students ever be impressed by my audition. I wanted to run away. I wanted to go to Boston. However, looking over to my brother who insisted on watching gave me a little more strength. Someone believed in me, so it was my time to believe in myself.
I played that song better than I had ever played it before, not one wrong note or word. Serenity fell over me when I played that last chord, and I could feel angels hovering over me. I looked up to the judges and they were almost speechless. "Wow." they said. "That was beautiful!", "Perfect." and etc. Every compliment raised my spirit more and more. I made it to the next round, and the next with the audience growing each time, and I was permitted to perform in the talent show, but I never did.
My old conservative Egyptian father stepped in when he realized my young fantasy was coming true. "No daughter of mine will be a musician!" he said. I begged and argued for days, but without the permission of my father, I could not perform in my school's talent show. However, this experience showed me that I had the potential to make my dreams come true. My competence in playing the guitar gave me confidence, and through music, I could really and truly define who I really am. That's what language does, right?
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