Chapter 53

I had taken a lot of a course called “Music Studio” for my music courses requirements. You would spend a few hours a week essentially having a master class with a music instructor, then they would grade you according to how much improvement you were making in the instrument you chose. This course was essentially just a private lesson like I had back in highschool. Unlike my time with CC though, this time it was taught to me by a university cello instructor who didn’t yell at me. Let’s call him “BB”.

BB and I met up a few times a week and did lessons similar to CC and I used to do them. The main difference? I was learning about very different things. If you’ll recall, towards the end of highschool, I sought out UofT cello instructors to teach me a few things to prepare for Kiwanis. They told me to ignore most of the basic stuff like intonation, fingering and tempo. Instead, they told me to spend more time with dynamics, personality, and style. This was because they knew that the basic stuff I could handle and work out on my own. So it made no sense to really spend that much time on things I could do myself. BB had the same mindset and I was enjoying this exploration into my own style of cello playing. 

But here’s the thing about Music Studio. It was a one-on-one course. I would go to a practice room and hang out with a cello instructor and then leave afterwards by myself. There were no classmates. It was in stark juxtaposition to my science courses where I was competing with everyone else in my class to be on the higher end of the bell curve. Here it was just me and BB. I had no competition. This feeling wasn’t something that a science undergraduate was supposed to experience. 

A science undergraduate was supposed to be in a constant state of fighting for the top. Remember all those chapters where I talked about cramming for just a few extra percent on a test to stand out for professional school applications? It’s in the nature of the program to be competitive. Yet here I was, competing with no one in a course. I felt like I was cheating. Like I’ve exploited the idea of the bird course too much. In my mind, I started to feel guilty about the Optometry school applications.

Is it really fair for me to apply to Optometry school with the GPA that I have if most of that number is because of my music courses? In my head, I had brought a bicycle to a foot race. This simply wasn’t fair. The other thing was this. What if I do get into the optometry program and then are expected to handle 5 science courses on the regular? I haven’t had 5 science courses in my schedule since my second term in university two years ago. I’m not sure I could handle it. Maybe my imaginary spot should go to someone else who toughed out the 5 science courses a term and are used to the pressure? 

This sounds familiar doesn’t it? It was imposter syndrome again. 

I felt like I was a fraud and a conman. I was cheating the system. I mean, I was a science student. I should be forcing myself to study for science courses. The entirety of undergrad was supposed to be a testament of will. It was meant for me to show that I could handle the pressure of learning 5 science courses even when I hated it. I shouldn’t be in a situation where I didn’t have to force myself to learn like I’ve been doing for the music courses. 

Should I stop though? I would be throwing quite a huge advantage down the drain and also forcing myself into unhappiness. That didn’t feel right. I liked doing music courses in university and hell, I was even beginning to introspectively deal with all of my toxic histories of the classical chinese community through my music. Not making the connection? Think about it this way. Music was now what I had hoped it to be. A mode of expression. 

Though classical pieces were played all the same, since they had no words, I could project whatever narrative I wanted on the notes and deal with them expressively this way. In all the lessons I had with BB, I chose to think about my toxic highschool days whenever I played any piece. It was very therapeutic. It felt like I was owning up to my past and utilizing it was fuel for expression. 

Still not making sense? Maybe have a listen to the repertoire I was working on (Look up Ligetti Solo Cello Sonata). Was that still too much of a reach? That’s okay. To each their own. Just know that outside of all the advantages I’ve ever mentioned about doing classical music courses, I was now also getting a form of psychological healing from it. Oh, that and the fact that all of these advantages academically and mentally were now making me feel guilty. 

It’s kind of a weird thing isn’t it? Anxiety. What causes someone who has everything they’ve ever wanted to feel bad about having such things? Is it the fear of all of that going away? Is it the fear of the future? Why can’t I simply choose happiness? Why must I always have happiness with a side dish of guilt? 

In a particularly bad spiral I felt during my winter term of my third year. I almost decided to pull the plug on being a music double major. I felt like I should be suffering and avoiding all things music. No matter how mentally healthy I was with my current state of things. It just didn’t feel right. It made no sense to me and yet I felt this way.

Was there some invisible force that was pushing away from being happy? Was I designed to not be happy? Why am I like this? No one had any say on how I go about my days or my future anymore. There was no longer a CC in my life to force me to give it my all so as to not be scolded at. There was no mom around to be the tyrant, forcing me to do this or that because of whatever reason she fancies. I had no shackles and absolute freedom to do what I wanted so why did I want to be unhappy? It can’t just be the fear of the future and being unprepared for it can it? 

My spiral ended when my girlfriend grounded me. This was a role she played wonderfully. While credit where credit is due is in order, all she really had to do was tell the truth. So that’s exactly what she did.

First, she told me not to worry because here’s the thing. Everyone was doing it. Furthermore, everyone who didn’t do it could be doing it too. What I was doing wasn’t cheating. It was just a different method of going about applications. I was following my strong suits, and why shouldn’t I? When we interview, don’t we always want to put our best foot forward? The applications committee knows what they’re doing and are responsible for filtering out thousands and applicants. They must know that this is something that students are able to do.

The second thing the girlfriend made me realize, indirectly, was that the inclusion of music in my life had made me a better person than I was. Before my music started in undergrad, I would only allow someone to listen to my cello playing if it were a teacher. Stemming from a deep rooted anger from how useless it was when my mom used to stay in the lesson with me and CC, I hated having someone who wasn’t a teacher in the room when I practiced. I mean, if I was being yelled at, why did I want anyone else there who wasn’t necessary? I developed this mentality that anyone in the practice room who wasn’t the teacher was there because it was entertaining to watch me be verbally abused. 

However, since I had to be taught in an ensemble setting due to I.C.E. and since I was removed from the shackles of my old toxic classical music community, I’ve been noticing my own tendencies more and more and have become more and more at peace with them. Don’t get me wrong, I still didn’t like anyone else in the room when I was practicing but I wasn’t thinking they were getting a laugh out of me anymore. All of those toxic experiences poured into my lessons with BB had made me face them enough times to understand them and myself better. I was liking myself more and more. Something seemingly impossible from the perspective of the version of me from highschool. 

The cello slowly became less and less of a symbol of shackles connecting me with my mom or my own desire to please someone. After all the classes with BB, my cello was now, in my eyes, an extension of me to talk through and to talk with. The cello also slowly became a personified friend. And why shouldn’t it be? I have had it forever. When I got yelled at, it was there with me. During all those toxic moments in the past I endured with the Chinese Classical Community, this was by my side. Now, why not speak with it. It used to be a tool for my inner demons and now I realize that it was more like a mirror of myself. 

I was actually finding myself so mentally healthy that I kind of missed the edge I used to have. I no longer looked at my music instrument and thought I had to be the best to be accepted. The competitiveness I once had had disappeared and I saw music as more than that now. So that begs the question, why would I ever give this up?

So in the end, I decided to stay the path. A double major to the end was the path I chose. At third year university, when you’ve finally become accustomed to the ways of university life and have become a undergrad veteran, you know of all the ways you can manipulate your schedule. You also know that your time in university would shortly be over after 1 more year. At this stage in your life in academia, you tend to show your true colors and in some form or other. 

I found my truth in my music and stuck with it. There was simply too much happiness in music to turn away from. Imposter or not, music kept me happy with who I was. I suppose it’s better to be an imposter from my science program colleagues than to be an imposter to my own identity in my own mind.