I
believe that an invisible yet magical harmony flows out and saturates my
audience when I swing my conductor's baton. Though many people think that I
conduct an orchestra, I, in fact, conduct myself.
In
natural science, the word conduct refers to the heat or electric activity
passing through materials. In other words, it portrays an energy flow. In
music, the word offers a meaning so different.
Being
a flutist for almost a decade, I was an avid member of an orchestra. Finding the
perfect tune together with other members was a sheer joy. Over time, I led four
major concerts and grew as a conductor: the 22nd waver conductor of KMLA
orchestra.
Looking
back, I never dreamt of becoming a conductor. Applying to be a conductor was a
whim of the moment thing. And ten months after that I was named the conductor
of KMLA orchestra.
I
can clearly recall the first time I picked my baton at the morning assembly.
Nervous, I could barely utter any word. But after much endeavor, I stood on my
feet. Not to embarrass myself, I practiced conducting behind a mirror. On my
first debut, I was too tensed, I could barely move my muscle. It was as if my
body refused to follow signals transmitting from my bodily command center.
Worse
was the fact that I was brutally ridiculed on an anonymous Facebook page, KMLA
Bamboo Forest. This drained all my energy. For the spring concert was allotted
for the former conductor. However, he abruptly announced that he wouldn't even
attend the concert.
This
offered me yet another chance to prove myself in front of the audience. I
poured out every drop of my energy into the event not to mess up. To my own
dismay, the nightmare revisited. For the first few months, I would save my meal
time to practice. At times, I threw myself into the bed and wept for not
meeting the expectation that I set for myself.
Slowly,
it dawned on me that being a conductor is not like performing for the audience.
I realized that I should step onto the stage for every single member in the
orchestra. Instead of focusing on how I should look, I filled myself with the
sense of obligation as a leader who must inspire all the other members.
Now
that the year 2018 is coming to an end, I am amazed by how much I grew. I had
to push myself farther so I could help myself and others. I learned to express
myself with clarity and learned to pay attention to what my members had to say.
More importantly, I learned to sense the inaudible voice of other members who
always shied away from voicing out their opinion. Well, I had to adapt.
Most
importantly, I learned that being a conductor is not about standing on the
stage for the concert day. Rather, a good conductor's play is bigger before we
perform on the stage. During the practice, I had to earn my members' trust,
boost their morale, and promote professionalism.
As
many Koreans are keenly aware, Korean school culture is rigidly hierarchical by
grade level and age groups. To me, such culture was nothing more than an
impediment. I lowered myself to accommodate younger classmen's demands.
Recently,
I received the most flattering comment from my fellow orchestra member about
what I did over the past year. To conduct, I laid down all the frills. I had to
keep my hearts and ears open.
I
still feel scared to stand before the morning assembly. However, now, as long
as I am in front of my orchestra, I greet every member with a smile to
alleviate their tension. And when I lift my baton, everyone knows that WE all
craft the perfect harmony. No longer is it I. I am not ‘insulator’ anymore; I am ‘Conductor Kim’. This I believe.
Good essay. Gets off to a great start with that deep context and "conducting" energy etc. As the essay continues it begins to enter the familiar frame of an "orchestra essay" in the same way a "soccer essay" might be somewhat predictable by topic alone, so that is something to improve upon for next year's college essays. Probably continuing that mode of creative exploration you started with could have been interesting. Well done for the most part.
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