I worry that I have not written enough about his impact to me. I think I may have overstated facts about him.Let me know please. Correct grammar as well, mostly looking for overall opinions.
Gazing into the massive beast, you shudder in fear as you search in its heart for your acceptance. Castillo was not massive or a beast, but he had a look that could sink you in the far reaches of a never-ending ocean. His face often boiled so red that it felt like the sun was melting you into the cracks of the sidewalk. His voice sometimes boomed like the maddened Zeus when devious Hera had betrayed him. It was fear that drove me into my appreciation for Castillo and my unwavering passion for band.
I came into band as an unmotivated plain Jane high school girl trying to fit in with everybody else. Band was just another class to me, since my middle school experience did not really flourish any desire to pursue greatness in being a flautist. Mediocre, I like to call myself, going from 3rd chair symphonic band to 6th and up to 5th. For me there was no real will power to achieve anything beyond a run-of-the-mill band experience; I just wanted a 100 in band to keep my parents happy. My symphonic band teacher was not very engaging, and I often felt the urge to quit. But then my sophomore audition came.
I achieved seventh chair out of nine in wind ensemble. Yet again an unenthused performance, but good enough to land me in the mystics of the varsity band; I finally had something to look forward to. Instantly I familiarized myself with the penetrating glares of Castillo. I felt unwelcomed and unsure if I had made the right choice to join varsity band just yet. Despite the jutting leers of Castillo whenever I had played incorrect rhythms, I grew fond of his engaging ways of directing the band and his whimsical humor that never failed to disappoint. His attempts at jokes always eased the class and caused great commotions. Still I never spoke a word during band, cowering in my small bubble of nearby flute players to avoid Castillo's wrath. He was a very prominent man, quick tempered, and feared by the students with discretion. Still I could not help but wish he appreciated me as much as the first chair flute player. Ultimately I made a wish that one day I perhaps might win his recognition; and I set my eyes on the upcoming All-Region auditions.
A month of pure dedication, intensive practice, and numbed lips, I came into Castillo's office feeling exposed to his impending approval. "Go on and play" he said in his low serene voice. Jittery and sweaty palmed, I breathed what I thought would be my last ounce of air and blew through the golden head joint. At last I decrescendoed my last ritard and peered over to hear my fate. He shifted with a locked gaze, "you are doing well, but there is much to be improved on. Go practice and come back later." His voice was bitter to my ears, but my eyes had been sparked with intensity. The small feeling of dismay had quickly evaporated as I now felt an inflamed need to work harder for his approval. I was afraid of his rejection, and I quickly made it a top priority to put all my efforts into distinguishing the etude. In that instance, I noticed that my diligence toward other subjects was further increased as I worked more intently in completing my homework so I could make more time for practice. Like an animalistic instinct, I had a natural drive to pick up my flute and play until my arms were sore from carrying the delicate instrument. I began to see the importance of dedication in work as things around my life looked more solid and perfect. I had never once in my life sought fervor to captivate someone's recognition like I hoped with Castillo. It was as if I was Lennie from Mice and Men trying to win the love and acceptance from George, his role model and companion.
Once again, I had decided to come in for my last test of skill. With immense preparation, I played the etude with precision and power and let the vibrant notes shine through. Maybe it was a mirage or fluke, but I might have glimpsed an unusual grin from our usual grumpy band director. "That was very good, much improved." It was not the full out applause I had hoped for, but the words held in my heart for a very long time. Grasping on to the brilliant words of a well-conceived man, I walked out with vigor and delight for my time well spent.
After playing for Castillo, much of my fear towards his fury dissipated into appreciation. I realized he was as great of a teacher as a friend. He listened to silly nilly problems with bullies and schoolwork. He cracked jokes that warmed the soul. He cared about how we felt about band and how our days had gone. Castillo I learned was a true giver to the people he touched. He had poured his soul into the band program and all his work paved way for the success of all the students in band. He forced the love of band into his students like relentless nagging mother. Band wasn't just an aspect of life, it became life.
Castillo taught me the ways of hard work and perseverance. He never slacked for a day, or in his grading methods. He would not settle for good but always for great. He challenged my musicality in pieces I never thought I could play. I once played a run in an etude nearly a hundred times over and over for him trying to perfect each note on the beat before he would let me leave. Countless times I would come in trying to pass off a 3 minute etude and end up practicing it with him for hours trying to exact a couple spots he wasn't satisfied with. Castillo broadened my abilities to overcome difficulties and curveballs. He said "if you can't do it, fake it until you make it." I discovered through the immense hours of rehearsal and grit that "making it" was possible. And with that, I was able to make the two top bands at All-Region after being motivated with Castillo. He changed me from a lethargic careless person into someone who can handle the responsibility of being assiduous and zealous. His demanding personality made me strive to complete challenging tasks that my previous self would never attempt. He forced me to set goals with my life and to simplify each step I would take towards them. I no longer lived in a past of carelessness and wonder, I now had priorities that were to be achieved up to Castillo's standards. For this, he has molded me from a flimsy pliable clay piece into a solid grasping figurine. It was Castillo that paved way for my prosperous high school career as a flute player in wind ensemble and a diligent student. He created and shaped the exemplary person I am today.
Whenever he calls my name from his office, a shot of neurotransmitters crawl up my spine as I shudder in anxiety. There the massive beast waits with his demeaning scowl but the true beauty lies in what he has taught me as a band teacher.
Gazing into the massive beast, you shudder in fear as you search in its heart for your acceptance. Castillo was not massive or a beast, but he had a look that could sink you in the far reaches of a never-ending ocean. His face often boiled so red that it felt like the sun was melting you into the cracks of the sidewalk. His voice sometimes boomed like the maddened Zeus when devious Hera had betrayed him. It was fear that drove me into my appreciation for Castillo and my unwavering passion for band.
I came into band as an unmotivated plain Jane high school girl trying to fit in with everybody else. Band was just another class to me, since my middle school experience did not really flourish any desire to pursue greatness in being a flautist. Mediocre, I like to call myself, going from 3rd chair symphonic band to 6th and up to 5th. For me there was no real will power to achieve anything beyond a run-of-the-mill band experience; I just wanted a 100 in band to keep my parents happy. My symphonic band teacher was not very engaging, and I often felt the urge to quit. But then my sophomore audition came.
I achieved seventh chair out of nine in wind ensemble. Yet again an unenthused performance, but good enough to land me in the mystics of the varsity band; I finally had something to look forward to. Instantly I familiarized myself with the penetrating glares of Castillo. I felt unwelcomed and unsure if I had made the right choice to join varsity band just yet. Despite the jutting leers of Castillo whenever I had played incorrect rhythms, I grew fond of his engaging ways of directing the band and his whimsical humor that never failed to disappoint. His attempts at jokes always eased the class and caused great commotions. Still I never spoke a word during band, cowering in my small bubble of nearby flute players to avoid Castillo's wrath. He was a very prominent man, quick tempered, and feared by the students with discretion. Still I could not help but wish he appreciated me as much as the first chair flute player. Ultimately I made a wish that one day I perhaps might win his recognition; and I set my eyes on the upcoming All-Region auditions.
A month of pure dedication, intensive practice, and numbed lips, I came into Castillo's office feeling exposed to his impending approval. "Go on and play" he said in his low serene voice. Jittery and sweaty palmed, I breathed what I thought would be my last ounce of air and blew through the golden head joint. At last I decrescendoed my last ritard and peered over to hear my fate. He shifted with a locked gaze, "you are doing well, but there is much to be improved on. Go practice and come back later." His voice was bitter to my ears, but my eyes had been sparked with intensity. The small feeling of dismay had quickly evaporated as I now felt an inflamed need to work harder for his approval. I was afraid of his rejection, and I quickly made it a top priority to put all my efforts into distinguishing the etude. In that instance, I noticed that my diligence toward other subjects was further increased as I worked more intently in completing my homework so I could make more time for practice. Like an animalistic instinct, I had a natural drive to pick up my flute and play until my arms were sore from carrying the delicate instrument. I began to see the importance of dedication in work as things around my life looked more solid and perfect. I had never once in my life sought fervor to captivate someone's recognition like I hoped with Castillo. It was as if I was Lennie from Mice and Men trying to win the love and acceptance from George, his role model and companion.
Once again, I had decided to come in for my last test of skill. With immense preparation, I played the etude with precision and power and let the vibrant notes shine through. Maybe it was a mirage or fluke, but I might have glimpsed an unusual grin from our usual grumpy band director. "That was very good, much improved." It was not the full out applause I had hoped for, but the words held in my heart for a very long time. Grasping on to the brilliant words of a well-conceived man, I walked out with vigor and delight for my time well spent.
After playing for Castillo, much of my fear towards his fury dissipated into appreciation. I realized he was as great of a teacher as a friend. He listened to silly nilly problems with bullies and schoolwork. He cracked jokes that warmed the soul. He cared about how we felt about band and how our days had gone. Castillo I learned was a true giver to the people he touched. He had poured his soul into the band program and all his work paved way for the success of all the students in band. He forced the love of band into his students like relentless nagging mother. Band wasn't just an aspect of life, it became life.
Castillo taught me the ways of hard work and perseverance. He never slacked for a day, or in his grading methods. He would not settle for good but always for great. He challenged my musicality in pieces I never thought I could play. I once played a run in an etude nearly a hundred times over and over for him trying to perfect each note on the beat before he would let me leave. Countless times I would come in trying to pass off a 3 minute etude and end up practicing it with him for hours trying to exact a couple spots he wasn't satisfied with. Castillo broadened my abilities to overcome difficulties and curveballs. He said "if you can't do it, fake it until you make it." I discovered through the immense hours of rehearsal and grit that "making it" was possible. And with that, I was able to make the two top bands at All-Region after being motivated with Castillo. He changed me from a lethargic careless person into someone who can handle the responsibility of being assiduous and zealous. His demanding personality made me strive to complete challenging tasks that my previous self would never attempt. He forced me to set goals with my life and to simplify each step I would take towards them. I no longer lived in a past of carelessness and wonder, I now had priorities that were to be achieved up to Castillo's standards. For this, he has molded me from a flimsy pliable clay piece into a solid grasping figurine. It was Castillo that paved way for my prosperous high school career as a flute player in wind ensemble and a diligent student. He created and shaped the exemplary person I am today.
Whenever he calls my name from his office, a shot of neurotransmitters crawl up my spine as I shudder in anxiety. There the massive beast waits with his demeaning scowl but the true beauty lies in what he has taught me as a band teacher.
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