As a daughter to Chinese immigrant parents, I’m constantly reminded that I need to be better than everyone else. At a young age, I was pushed into multiple extracurricular activities, including chess, violin, swim, basketball, drawing, dance, and taekwondo. The first  was piano. At first, I enjoyed piano because it was new and different from music I heard before. However, resentment quickly overshadowed that enjoyment. At the age of five, I learned to say, “I hate piano.” 

I hated sitting on the piano bench for hours until my butt was sore. I hated practicing until my fingers ached. I hated being yelled at for refusing to play. But most of all, I hated being told that if I didn’t play piano, I would never be better than anyone. So I played. 

I practiced piano everyday until I entered middle school–when COVID hit. Everything went virtual, and it was difficult to learn through screens, so my piano teacher stopped teaching. We weren’t able to find another teacher, and my parents became increasingly busy with their work, so my parents decided to give me a “break” from piano. 

I was overjoyed. For the first time, I felt free. I no longer felt pressured to do something that I didn’t like. I started doing all the things I wanted to do in place of piano: I texted and called my friends more often; I watched T.V. shows and movies; I played games; I read books, and I messed around with my brother. However, that excitement and happiness were short-lived. I started to feel distanced from everyone. I didn’t know why. Maybe because I hadn’t seen my friends in months or maybe because I hadn’t truly gotten out of bed since school went virtual. But all I knew was that I felt so lonely. 

It was also during this period of darkness that I started to miss piano. I wasn’t (and still am not) sure why I missed piano specifically, but I desperately wanted to touch the keys and hear the rich, crisp sound of the notes. Piano motivated me to pull myself together and change the course of my life. 

I told my parents that I wanted to start playing piano again, and thankfully they supported my decision. At this time, COVID started to ease and going out was pretty much safe as long as you wore a mask. My new piano teacher was this lady from my church, Mrs. Susan. She and her husband have always been incredibly kind and considerate to me and my family. Naturally, I was thrilled to be her student for this new chapter in my life. 

She introduced me to Waltz in A minor, Op. 34 No. 2 by Chopin. She taught me how to play it, but most importantly, she taught me to use my emotions to bring its story to life. I began to use the piano as an outlet for my pent-up emotions and thoughts. I became so deeply immersed in the piece. I fell in love with the sorrow, the murky forlornness, and the melancholy the melody conveyed. I loved this piece so much that I entered a competition for it and even won first place.

I went from despising the piano to falling so passionately in love with the piano. As I matured, I realized that I can choose to play the piano not because I need to fulfill the stereotype of being a piano prodigy or to please my parents, but for my own enjoyment. 

Piano, thank you for being my light at the end of the tunnel. And thank you Mrs. Susan for helping me see the light.