Recently one of the girls in my choir at school asked me, "Annastazia, why do you sing so well? When did it all start? I want to have your passion." This girl is absolutely adorable, she is a freshman, and she is one of my "Alto 1 babies". I must have looked like an idiot, but I had to think about it. I had never really thought about that before.
I guess it all started in third grade. I remember sitting around the piano singing with my class during music. I went to a very small school; there were about 18ish kids in my class, total. One day in music class, Mr. Raetz said that there would be solo auditions in one month, and that he was going to choose three third or fourth graders to sing entire solo songs. He gave everyone a sheet of music. I took it home to my Mom and she said, "Oh, sweetie, I know this song so well, would you like me to help you learn it?" I nodded yes, and then Momma and I started practicing it. I would sit on her huge bed and sing with her while she was folding laundry. I sang that song with her so many times that I probably could have sang it backwards in my sleep.
I don't really remember much about the audition except for Mr. Raetz saying, "Thank you, Annastazia, that was very lovely." The next day, Mr. Raetz announced to the class, "Megan will be singing [I forgot the name of the song], Annastazia will be singing Desperado, and Luke will be singing Hey Good Lookin'." (Megan is in my grade, goes to my church, and lives like 4 sections west of our farm. Luke is a grade above me, goes to my church as well, and lives 3 sections to the east of our farm.) Mr. Raetz said that we would have to come in everyday during the 6th grader's music class to work on our solos. This meant that Megan and I go to skip out on half of our reading class everyday. I was so happy; I used to hate reading. Practicing was so much fun; I loved every second of it. Every once and in a while, Ms. LeMunyan, the High School music teacher, would come and tell us good job, or give us a thumbs up. (Ms. LeMunyan is, awkwardly enough, Sydni's aunt....)
The night of the concert, Momma let me choose my own outfit, I chose my new denim dress with a red bandanna tied loosely around my neck, and my hair in piggy-tail braids. I was really nervous. I still remember what Mr. Raetz said to me, "Don't be nervous kiddo. Pick out an old man in the audience that you don't know, look at him in the eyes, and sing straight from your little heart." I still remember looking out into the audience and seeing the whole town of Sterling, NE starring back at me. Mr. Raetz handed me a microphone, I gulped and took it from him. This was it, no turning back. He looked at me and cued me, and I don't know how, but I started singing. After the first verse, I started to enjoy myself. I found that I loved singing to the audience. I finished the song. It was done. After the concert so many people came up to me and told me how much they loved it.
That was my last year at Sterling, the next year, I transferred to Syracuse. My 5th grade year, I tried out for a solo in our Girls Choir Christmas concert at church. After that audition, my director and the accompanist both looked at me with confused faces. Finally my director broke the awkward silence by saying, "Annastazia, I had no idea you could sing like that. You have a beautiful solo voice." The next week, she announced that I got the alto solo, and Kara got the soprano solo. Best friends singing a call-and-answer duet. It was perfect. After that I started to enjoy choir a lot more. Ms. Poe just absolutely loved the fact that I actually knew what choir was all about when I reached her class in 7th grade, but that was when I lost interest in choir. I started dreading rehearsals, and I was easily annoyed with music.
Then a great change occurred. I moved. It wasn't until after I moved that I realized how much I enjoyed choir, singing, and music in general. I remember walking into second period choir my first day at Ogallala, thinking that I would end up quitting choir. But during that next month something changed. I took notice at small things such as: the way the Baldman was so involved in how he conducted, and the way he almost let the music live through him. It was remarkable. I also noticed how much my peers enjoyed choir. Specifically, Micah, Elijah, and Byron (although at the time, I thought Micah was Elijah and vice verse, and I also thought that Byron's name was "Vyron") . I just could not wrap my brain these guys. They were just so involved in singing. You could just see it in their faces. I remember how Helzer was always so pleased with these guys and how their beautiful voices just lit up the room. That night I went home crying. I told my mom about how I enjoy choir again and how I don't ever want to quit. That semester of choir was amazing. I loved how almost everyone in that room had a strong desire to be there, they weren't there to mess around. I noticed this about band too. I thought I was an amazing flute/piccolo player, until I met Syd. She made me look like I didn't even know what a flute was.
Needless to say, my views and opinions about music in general really altered that semester. It was during that summer that I came to the realization that the only reason I was singing was for myself and for my own glory. I was at church camp in Wyoming with the Lincoln Indian Hills High School Group (my youth group currently), when they found out that I was going to camp, they immediately asked me to join the praise band for that week to sing harmony. I was excited for it. I also was asked to do a special music song as well. It was one of my favorite songs (I tend to have a lot of 'favorites'), "Give Us Clean Hands". I started preparing for the song with the accompanists right away when camp started. That Tuesday was a big day for me, in the morning, we had a very convicting sermon in the morning that made me cry, it was then that I realized how much I needed Christ in my life, and that I couldn't do this all myself. Which really made me think about my motives for performing that song. That night during worship I performed my song, it went great, no awkward microphone screw-ups or anything like that. After worship was another sermon, and when that was over, I got up out of the pew and started walking out of the chapel with my friends. I stopped walking when I felt a large arm around my shoulders. I looked back; it was Nick Cole, one of the sponsors, he had tears in his eyes and said, "Annastazia, do you have something to tell me? Your song was just beautiful." I then proceeded to tell him the whole story about the convicting sermon and by the end we were both in tears.
It's almost ironic how I was ready to quit music altogether that year. Now, here I am two years later, considering a music major. I just don't understand. My parents and I have had my career planned out since fifth grade. Graduate high school with a 4.0, go to a University under a Pre-Nursing program, go to nursing school to obtain my RN degree, work as a nurse or paramedic for a couple of years, get accepted into CRNA school, graduate and enjoy my dream job. Now this music major thing is getting in my way. My parents don't think that pursuing a music major is the right thing for me. Mom wants me to consider a music minor, in between getting my RN degree and getting my CRNA degree. I just don't know. I feel like this is overused by people who don't understand it's meaning, but "God's got a plan". Now I just need to pursue my walk by faith.
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