Practice Makes You Better (TNT Will Submission)

Practice Makes You Better

When I was younger, I played the violin. I fell in love with it when being shown the violin itself and plucked the strings.

The orchestra teacher asked me if I played already but I had told her no. She told me to join the next year when I was in the right grade to join.

And that's what I did.

I didn't join right away. I had joined about two to three months after they had started because I still needed to convince my mom. She thought that I was just wasting my time in school by playing an instrument. I didn't care for what she thought because I really wanted to play. I continued to beg her to let me join. After awhile, she let me. I was now in orchestra to play the violin.

I wasn't able to get my own violin to play though. My elementary school didn't have enough. So, I waited while they found one for me to play and bring home with me. As I waited, I shared with a friend of mine who played a three quarter size violin. I usually played when she didn't want to or when the part we were at was complicated and she didn't want to play it. When I finally got my own violin, it was a size too small, a half size, but I was fine with it.

At least I had one.

I played it as much as I could, although I was slightly uncomfortable with the position since the violin was small. I practiced and practiced as much as I possibly could, annoying my family. I wanted to be as good as possible, to prove my mom wrong.

There were times where I thought that I was done. I was always told that my nails were too short, too long, the position of my fingers were wrong when I switched from a half size to a full size after two years of playing a half size. I always thought it was my fault. I always bit my nails or I would forget about my nails and not clip them. I would blame myself for the position of my fingers, although I had a small violin for a long time.

After awhile, I didn't let those things get to me. I made sure to memorize finger positions, corrected my stance when sitting, the position of my wrist, memorized notes, made sure I had everything down.

A year or two has gone by now since I played the violin. I still remember everything. My mom understands how much I loved playing the violin. She understands that it's something close to my heart. After being able to prove to her that playing it wasn't a waste of my time because of all my practice and self-corrections to make me better, I felt like it was okay for me to put it down and go towards something else.

I love and always will love the violin.