I’m not a musical type. Music is pretty low on the list of things that I value. I don’t know even the most basic bands. I’m not even that big of a singer (singing in the car or in the shower doesn’t count). So it doesn’t seem natural for me to sit in choir for another two years. I think about quitting all the time. I don’t fit in with the musical types, I’m not the singer I used to be, there’s so many other electives I could be taking. But I can’t quit. I haven’t quit yet, and I never will quit.
Wednesday night reminded me why.
As I joined arm and arm with other choir members to sing our school song, I remembered why I won’t quit choir: because concerts like the one on Wednesday compensate for everything that annoys me about it.
Because performing the songs we’ve been rehearsing for months in front of hundreds of spectators reminds me why I spend approximately four and a half hours a week singing the same songs again and again. Because I love spending time backstage with several hundred Lancers who I’m proud to sing with. Because seeing Ken Foley conduct his choirs reminds me that there are people in this world that are as great, as passionate, as inspiring as he is.
But most of all, these concerts leave me with the feeling that I am a part of something historic, something that I will never forget. That I am a part of a family. Not even my beloved Harbinger deadlines give me that feeling.
That feeling keeps me in. I try to remember that feeling whenever I’m bored of sitting in
Sure, the prospect of a trip to Italy this spring break doesn’t hurt. But after Italy, when I’m feeling inclined to switch out my senior year, I’ll think of these concerts, these people, and that wonderful teacher. I’ll think of all the good times I’ve had in choir.
And if I think of those things, there’s no way that I’ll ever be able to quit choir.