Undergraduate /
Common App: Personal Statement (Brass Buddy) [8]
"It's kind of big," they say.
I know.
"How do you carry it?" they ask.
I just do.
"How much does it weigh?" they wonder.
I have no clue.
"It" is a tuba.
Now I don't understand what causes people to look at me incredulously when I say that not only do I play the tuba, but that I also enjoy doing so. Ever since picking up the instrument I've felt like someone has branded a giant brass "T" on my chest. Maybe it's the tuba's unholy size, the curious shape or the persisting stigma of "uncoolness"
( or find a different word) that radiates from my instrument that makes people question my allegiance to it. But regardless of reason, my brass friend has taught me much throughout the years and has profoundly influenced the person I am today.
There are usually three basic parts to harmonized music: melody, countermelody and bass line. The melody is the musically aesthetic part of the song and the most recognized. The countermelody is the harmony of the song, the parts that produces chords and gives the song texture. And the bass line, which is there to support all that. The tuba is the paragon of bass line instruments. I learned very early on in my musical education that the life of a tubist is not glamorous: I sit in the back of the ensemble, I never play the melody and when I do play most people can't even hear me. However , my role within the ensemble cannot be compromised. I provide the root of all the chords, I set the rhythmic pulse, and without me music would sound texturally empty. (
It seems as if you are boasting. What about the bass guitar or the baritone sax? Don't they also set the rhythmic pulse? Try including how the tuba differentiates from bass instruments, and hence why it is important.) It's not a difficult concept, but as with everything, it's always easier in theory than in practice. Leading crescendos takes more air than one might imagine and a missed entrance ruins a dynamic of the song. It's imperative that I never breathe on bar lines and that I'm always in tune. I am responsible for supporting my band, I am a small part of a whole and if I don't do my part I've let them down.
It has taught me responsibility.
Like I said, tuba playing isn't glamorous. It's also terribly boring at times.
(you might offend some readers with the boring part. )Unless it's a march, orchestrated music does not cater well to tubas. Most of the times I have to endure ungodly amounts of rests before I get to even utter a note. The anxiousness that builds up inside me as the rests slowly creep past is enough to break a boiler. This feeling is multiplied by about a thousand during rehearsals when the director is running through a song and my part approaches. I stand my tuba up on my chair, straiten my posture, bring the mouthpiece to my face, excited to once again be part of the ensemble, take a deep breath and... He stops. Torture, is the only way I can describe it. Pure, unadulterated torture. (
this is a fragment) All that excitement, all that anticipation, shot! With a single wave of the baton.
(fragment) It's at that point where I start thinking to myself, "Why? Why am I here? Why do I constantly allow myself to go through this kind of suffering?" And, that's when I remember. I'm there because I want to create music, true passionate music for everyone to enjoy. Its tough sitting though hours of rehearsal doing not much of anything but it's all for the good of the band, and the music.
It has taught me patience.
Comedian Rob Paravonian once told the joke, "There's no way to be cool when you're instrument is bigger than you. You walk to school with that thing; you're like a wounded gazelle on the Serengeti." No truer words have ever been said. I personally have never been picked on because of my tuba. However when I first began playing the instrument I felt alienated from the rest of my peers. A large part of it had to do with its size, another, my size. I started out with a three-fourths size tuba because I was simply too small for a full sized one at the time. The three-fourths were smaller, but still for rather large for a small girl. Every Monday I'd show up to school with my tuba and walk, from my car to the band room. The walk was difficult, not because I was small and the case big, but because people would stare at me. A feeling of awkwardness would always bubble up. I'd try to be inconspicuous in the halls, hoping no one would somehow notice me and see me as that strange girl with the tuba. As time moved on however, I became better at playing the tuba, I also became strong enough to carry the case around with ease. I didn't have to hobble across school anymore or hide my face. It was a newfound conviction I'd never known before. I would later apply that conviction to nearly everything I did, from swimming to Key Club to forensics.
It gave me confidence.
Yes, I play a rather unconventional instrument. It's large, it's in charge and it's my mentor. I may not be the greatest tubist in the world, in my state, or even my school, but I know I've gained much from playing the tuba, and that I'll be able to take the lessons I've gained from it wherever I go.
It is a really good essay.
- Avoid fragmented sentences as it stops the flow of the essay.
-Try summing up the teachings of the tuba in the conclusion. (if that makes any sense)
Good Luck:)
