Two weeks ago I wrote about how music changed my life. I wanted to share with everyone a piece I wrote as part of one of my journalism classes in May of 2011, during my sophomore year of college.
The world’s a stage, but what if I can’t put on the show?
College is always an uncertain time. Did I choose the right major, school, roommate? I knew the answer to all of those the first day of my second year.
I was sitting in a Davis classroom on the fourth floor waiting for Randy Jesick to walk in with his brown bag and stack of manila folders. On the outside I was composed, ready to go. On the inside I was so nervous my stomach felt like it was curling all of my organs around an invisible baseball.
It was my first journalism writing class. This would be the test. I loved the major, loved the professors, and I loved what I could do with my life with the degree. Now I had to make sure I could do the job.
A month later I wasn’t nervous anymore. I looked forward to that class every day. I was finding confidence in my career and my life. But something was missing.
It took until spring 2011 to find the missing pieces. I knew what they were, but I assumed it was just a dream that would never come true.
Performing, whether it be vocally, on the piano or acting, had been a major part of my life before college. When I stepped off of the stage in high school I assumed it would be my last time.
Man was I wrong.
My theater minor had sat idle since I added it. The only time I went to Waller Hall was to see my friends in a show. I always knew the Indiana Players were on Philadelphia Street and I could audition to be in a show with them. It took me awhile to get up the courage. But I went for it.
During the audition it was as if a spark went off inside me and I couldn’t put it out. All I could think about for weeks was theater. It felt so great to have a script back in my hands, learning the blocking, memorizing the lines.
Something was still missing though.
I had theater back in my life, but music was still missing. Sure, I had great memories from being in the choirs, but I wanted more. I decided to audition for a piano minor. The doubt from that decision did not leave my mind until after I had finished playing at my audition.
I simply figured I wasn’t good enough. I hadn’t worked with a teacher on the pieces I planned to play. I went into Dr. Staples’ office on the third floor shaking so much I could hardly hold my music.
As it turns out, I played everything beautifully, and got into the program without a problem. I knew the work was only beginning, but it felt great to walk out of the room with a huge smile and have a little dance party in the hall with my roommate.
At the end of my college career at IUP, I will remember the spring 2011 semester, and how the decisions I made during that time changed my life forever. I began to think that I could do anything I wanted to, within reason of course.
At the end of that semester, two of my favorite professors walked out of my life to continue on their journeys. Christopher Thomas and Patrick Farabaugh guided me, pushed me and encouraged me to be the vocalist and writer that are inside me.
So much happens at college, and I’m only halfway done. I can’t even imagine how much I’ll change in the next two or more years. One thing is for sure, I’ll always remember the people who were a part of my journey to finding out where I belong.
To donate to my Marathon Charity fundraiser and bring students access to the arts visit this link: https://www.crowdrise.com/marathonformusicpittsburgh2016/fundraiser/alycialambert