This is a paper I wrote in 8th grade for my English class. Today I made a few modifications but the original is preserved on my computer.
Descriptive Essay
I can hear the music as I walk through the white-walled hallway. I feel the excitement in the air from all of the students. Entering the heavy brown doors there is a crowd of people who look like they should be at a town meeting. The crowd covers the whole room, everyone looks different even though they are all dressed in black and white.I run to get my instrument on the wooden rack in the back of the classroom, but it slows into a slow trot winding in between friends and strangers. Once getting my violin tuned by the best teacher in the school, I know the night is about to begin!We stand, waiting for what feels like forever to leave the cramped orchestra room. We begin to play simple scales and daily warm-ups, they are the worst part of the night. Then our teacher starts the sixth grade songs. This year they play Believe, Jazzy Old St. Nick, and Frosty the Snowman. A rather simple repertoire, but in comparison to the elementary school music they played just a year before it will be a knockout. I remember how lovely we played Believe in sixth grade, it will forever be a favorite piece of mine.
Then the seventh grade plays their songs, I was too thrilled to concentrate. Con Brio plays the beginnings of their songs to us, if they played they’re entire selection we would be late for the concert. Fine, good, that’s all I could say but now its our turn, the eighth graders. Since the sixth grade we’ve looked up to the eighth graders. Now were on top, but only for a measly year. We begin with Ukrainian Bell Carol, and ooh’s and ahh’s float around in the air. It sounded like we were professionals. Then we play Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire, Festival of Lights, and Christmas Time is Here. To finish we play Babes in Toyland our hardest song that will surely take the audience’s breath away.
There are butterflies in my stomach by the time we line up to leave. Even the violins are whispering how energized they are. We walk to the back of the cafeteria. We sit and wait, this is a calm and dull time for any student that isn’t performing. I felt like a sloth except for when I had to change seats when the grades switched. An hour and a half later I hear the end of the last Con Brio song. It’s the last orchestra, the eight grade.
Trying not to smile as I walk upon the small wooden stage, that is covered with black stands and seats. I try but its hopeless, but I can’t stop smiling. Then I feel the heat on stage from so many lights. There is applause throughout the cafeteria, I still wonder why to this day because we haven’t played anything. I see the music in front of me for about the millionth time. The conductor puts her hands signifying for us to begin.
As we play our songs I think of how many times I’ve played on this stage. Were done, its over, and I can’t wait to get out from under these lights. The audience claps like the angry roar of an starving lion. It was truly our finest winter concert and most definitely, the finest feeling in the world.
