This I Believe
All types of music inhabit my world – the rap song with the big bass, the techno with the funky beat, the show tunes that get stuck in your head, the alternative that is just there when you need it. I believe in music to pump myself up for the big game, to relax after a stressful day, to just dance around for fun, or to recall a particular memory or emotion.
I have loved music all my life. While my Mom was in labor, the nurses and my family were dancing and singing in the hospital room. I was born while the Bonnie Raitt song “Love Sneaking Up On You” was playing. Even before that, in utero, my mother says when a song came on, I would start kicking and moving around. At concerts my mom attended, I would do the same thing, I wouldn’t just lie in the womb. When I was four, I loved the song “Amazing Grace” because it had my name in it. At my grandfather’s funeral that year, I sang that song in front of everyone. I couldn’t finish it because I started crying, so my mom helped me finish it.
I hear music everywhere: on the radio, in the background at stores, at concerts, on my iPod, during music class and from birds when I step outside in the morning. There are many different types of music for whatever type of mood I’m in. I listen to slow songs for when I feel sad, such as “How to Save a Life” by the Fray. Fast songs enliven me when I feel excited, such as “Wind It Up” by Gwen Stefani.
Music isn’t always good. Have you ever had a really stupid song stuck in your head? Everyone has that one hated song. Mine is “Chain Hang Low” by Jibbs, because it give me a mental image of one of my teachers singing the camp song “Do Your Ears Hang Low.”
Music also helps me remember significant parts of my life. “Space Jam,” by Quad City DJ, evokes a basketball game atmosphere. When my mom hears “Adagio for Strings” she remembers J.F.K.’s funeral. When I hear the theme song for the Olympics I have a vivid image of all the athletes from different countries walking in a big line. When I hear the song “Amazing Grace” I see myself at age four, in a blue velvet dress, standing on some stairs with red carpet, crying and trying to sing.
Have you ever heard a song that is perfect for your life? I have one, entitled “Unwritten,” by Natasha Bedingfield. It goes “…I am unwritten… can’t read my mind… I’m undefined…” The song is like me because, at age 13, I am figuring out who I am. Even though I am “Unwritten,” I still have things to say in the songs I create and sing. Maybe someday I will write some songs that are there just when someone else really needs them.
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