The Music People

musicgirls

Writing 101, Day Thirteen: Serial Killer II

Earlier in the course, you wrote about losing something. Today, write about finding something. For your twist, view day four’s post and today’s post as installments in a series.

It was not uncommon to come to breakfast at the cafeteria late on a Saturday morning and find a seat for myself at the sprawling table of music majors in their Saturday clothes, stirring their coffee and cream. On the weekends, the sounds we made were those of tinkling spoons swirling in small coffee cups. I was one of them. “The music people,” as we referred to ourselves and were referred to by the rest of the student body, were known to stick together.

To us, everything was a shared experience. Class, private lessons, rehearsals and concerts were spent practically wearing the same pantyhose. For every crazy thing a prof would say (‘There’s no ‘I’ in choir!’), or awkward thing a student would do (leak a fart so rank every band member gagged in rehearsal), the music major gained yet another shared experience with members of the ensemble. We chose to extend our time together outside of the classroom by lounging on the couches in the lobby or giving back rubs in the practice complex, as well as conducting occasional study sessions. I remember peeking in on the upperclassmen during finals week as they wept in the music theory room, trying to reclaim every grain of information from four years of study.

I was not alone. No matter which music person I talked to, I was sure to be met with a fine listening ear and I don’t mean to be ironic. As one of them, I was under the expectation to listen to the others as much as they listened to me, and in that way we became close. We found every reason to gather: to eat, to celebrate, to congregate in whatever and every fashion and we grew together over time.

Though the world spins madly on, we are still close – or as close as after college can be. Grades, tests, and honors or lack thereof start to blur in my memory of school, but I remember and will never forget the friends I found who continue to find me.

(Click here to read my first post in the series: Confidence)

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