High School: Shorecrest High School
Post-Graduation Plans: University of California, Stnta Barbara
Course of Study: Political Science and Communications
I can vividly remember the first time that I truly connected with the music I was making. I was in third grade, and it was my first year being in the Seattle Girls Choir, and we got to sing “How Far I’ll Go” from Moana with one of the older choirs in the big spring concert. The morning of the concert, I was not excited at all. My dress was an itchy, thick fabric that made my skin crawl, my tights were much too tight, and my patent leather flats squeezed my feet with every step I took. I was only really participating in choir because of my parents’ excitement when I agreed to audition. I wasn’t loving choir and had yet to feel like I’d found my place or purpose within it. That all changed in a single moment when we started performing our first song. Our youthful voices blended together, creating a sound that surrounded and filled the entire space. The music seemed to scoop me up and float me into the air, and for a minute, I forgot where I was, and all my discomfort melted away. As the song ended, the audience’s booming applause brought me back down to reality. I felt as if I was looking down upon myself, viewing the concert hall from a completely different perspective, and I never wanted to stop feeling that way.
Like many others who have been in choir for basically their whole lives, I experienced what I like to call “the Cantamus slump”. It also didn’t help that my Cantamus years were heavily affected by the pandemic. I went through a phase of absolutely hating anything to do with choir. The only things keeping me in it were my friends and the promise of finally getting to be in Prime Voci. While I pretended like I didn’t care about choir anymore, and that I was really only staying in it because my parents were making me, I knew deep down that I had to make it to PV, to finally be able to sing like them and create the exquisite sounds that they constantly made.
As I grew, I lost myself within the countless extracurriculars, responsibilities, and demands that took over my time and soon found myself mentally slipping out of choir yet again. However, through the chaos of my life, I found myself in the music. Rehearsals were my salvation. When my voice joined with the others, I could breathe again. No matter how much I had changed, Seattle Girls Choir had always been there for me, waiting for me to come back and get lost in the sweet symphony of our voices again.
I started to like the person I was becoming when I gave more of myself to choir. I learned to stop being embarrassed and to stop hiding away the parts of me that make me unique. In learning to accept myself, I was able to extend that acceptance to others in my life. Choir has taught me how to look deeper at the beautiful complexities each person holds, and to live a richer and fuller life.
When I started choir, I could have never imagined all the ways in which it would change my life. It has made me fall in love with music in the best way, created some of my closest friendships, and has truly fostered an environment where I can be myself while creating beautiful music and memories.