Hi, I am planning to use this essay for my fall regular applications. Please share any suggestions, critique and feedback, I'm REALLY open to ANY criticism!!
"You can't create harmony, because you don't listen to each other!" our conductor yelled, his voice hysterically shaking.
Bad Ischl International Choir Competition was in two days, and we were practicing on the bus on our way to visit Mozart's Home. Before we arrived, he instructed us with the most basic school trip precautions: never to leave the group, never to go anywhere without permission and never to leave his field of sight.
Perhaps as an instinctual survival tactic, people tend to keep distance between them and anything they aren't familiar with. Especially Turks, whose notion of safety is distorted in light of the ongoing terrorist attacks, tend to take even more precautions. Some of these repeated warnings make perfect sense, whereas some make a person question their benefit. But either way, as the famous Turkish proverb goes: "Bir musibet bin nasihâtten evlâdır." (One calamity is more effective than one thousand advices).
The trip had begun, but little did I know that my feelings throughout were to fluctuate so greatly, from remarkably in-awe to downright intimidated. We were walking around, taking photos, singing along and things were going smoothly, until I-as a result of spending way too much time trying to choose the perfect bracelet for my grandmother's liking-lost sight of my group.
Panic quickly overcame me. I felt my hands starting to sweat. I even remember thinking that if I was granted a once-in-a-lifetime right to beam myself up, I would've used it there and then. Yet, while the idea of getting lost also made me anxious, the main reason of my discomfort was simply the lack of confidence resulting from the absence of my friends. Now I was alone amongst people I didn't know, hearing a language I couldn't understand. I frantically searched for something familiar to cling to. I retraced our steps but found no one. Finally, dehydration and exhaustion overwhelmed my anxiety, and I had to sit down for a second to catch my breath.
Then it struck me: I wasn't going to come back here anytime soon. While wasting my time and energy trying to find the group, I was missing the moment. Instead of appreciating the uniqueness of the city, I was avoiding it. That thought made me see the irrelevance of my momentary fear. Only after that realization did I start to notice the crowd and the attractions around me-a group of singers dressed as a deck crew on the sidewalk, love locks hanging all over the bridge spanning the Salzach River, propagandists trying to distribute brochures of a political party, and myriads of unique Viennese. I even got to meet the creator of the SalzBurger.
It wasn't that I suddenly felt like I belonged there; I just didn't have to anymore. I had found solace in that foreignness. I felt confident and sheltered like I was home; only now, my haven was the entire world and not merely my comfort zone.
Life is filled with doubts and fears; but only if we take the initiative to put ourselves out there, listen to people from different backgrounds, realize the beauty of diversity and unite our individual strengths, can we create harmony. Then, and only then, we can genuinely experience the status of being a well-educated individual: a person able to express and defend her ideas, truly relate to people and serve as a team player. We might not have the same interests, goals, cultural backgrounds or beliefs, yet we have our minds to share.
To me, the concept of belonging to just one single community is just a legacy of tribalism and the breeder of xenophobia; and I know for a fact that I will never be, neither intellectually nor spiritually, satisfied by the limited world of the familiar. Because now, I feel like a true citizen of the world.
Finding an own place in a community
"You can't create harmony, because you don't listen to each other!" our conductor yelled, his voice hysterically shaking.
Bad Ischl International Choir Competition was in two days, and we were practicing on the bus on our way to visit Mozart's Home. Before we arrived, he instructed us with the most basic school trip precautions: never to leave the group, never to go anywhere without permission and never to leave his field of sight.
Perhaps as an instinctual survival tactic, people tend to keep distance between them and anything they aren't familiar with. Especially Turks, whose notion of safety is distorted in light of the ongoing terrorist attacks, tend to take even more precautions. Some of these repeated warnings make perfect sense, whereas some make a person question their benefit. But either way, as the famous Turkish proverb goes: "Bir musibet bin nasihâtten evlâdır." (One calamity is more effective than one thousand advices).
The trip had begun, but little did I know that my feelings throughout were to fluctuate so greatly, from remarkably in-awe to downright intimidated. We were walking around, taking photos, singing along and things were going smoothly, until I-as a result of spending way too much time trying to choose the perfect bracelet for my grandmother's liking-lost sight of my group.
Panic quickly overcame me. I felt my hands starting to sweat. I even remember thinking that if I was granted a once-in-a-lifetime right to beam myself up, I would've used it there and then. Yet, while the idea of getting lost also made me anxious, the main reason of my discomfort was simply the lack of confidence resulting from the absence of my friends. Now I was alone amongst people I didn't know, hearing a language I couldn't understand. I frantically searched for something familiar to cling to. I retraced our steps but found no one. Finally, dehydration and exhaustion overwhelmed my anxiety, and I had to sit down for a second to catch my breath.
Then it struck me: I wasn't going to come back here anytime soon. While wasting my time and energy trying to find the group, I was missing the moment. Instead of appreciating the uniqueness of the city, I was avoiding it. That thought made me see the irrelevance of my momentary fear. Only after that realization did I start to notice the crowd and the attractions around me-a group of singers dressed as a deck crew on the sidewalk, love locks hanging all over the bridge spanning the Salzach River, propagandists trying to distribute brochures of a political party, and myriads of unique Viennese. I even got to meet the creator of the SalzBurger.
It wasn't that I suddenly felt like I belonged there; I just didn't have to anymore. I had found solace in that foreignness. I felt confident and sheltered like I was home; only now, my haven was the entire world and not merely my comfort zone.
Life is filled with doubts and fears; but only if we take the initiative to put ourselves out there, listen to people from different backgrounds, realize the beauty of diversity and unite our individual strengths, can we create harmony. Then, and only then, we can genuinely experience the status of being a well-educated individual: a person able to express and defend her ideas, truly relate to people and serve as a team player. We might not have the same interests, goals, cultural backgrounds or beliefs, yet we have our minds to share.
To me, the concept of belonging to just one single community is just a legacy of tribalism and the breeder of xenophobia; and I know for a fact that I will never be, neither intellectually nor spiritually, satisfied by the limited world of the familiar. Because now, I feel like a true citizen of the world.
