"On the Strength of Community" by Jonathan R.

I recall waking up crusty-eyed at 6:45 in the morning and getting in the car with my likewise tired mother for an hour-long drive to the city of Orange. Awaiting me there was the first rehearsal of three ending in an eventual concert that would take up a three day period. Surely a short experience, but one of the most profound in my life.

 

Arriving at the hotel lobby and being led away to a cozy, warm conference room amid the cold rain of late January had most assuredly made me feel as if I was some noble or member of royalty. Such indulgent thoughts were especially bound to occur considering I was only in the eighth grade at this point. The most shocking of sights to behold was the sheer amount of musicians gathering together in this single area. This collective ensemble was by far the largest that I had ever performed with, totaling at around 150 players. Most of the other musicians there had appeared either quite laid-back or indifferent, but I was bright-eyed in anticipation for this was my first time to participate in an “honor” ensemble. From the moment I had first set up my instrument to the instant I set the reed upon my lower lip, I was overwhelmed by a grand sense of awe and intimidation. Yet all of these worrying fears and anxieties would instantly wither away the moment I and those 149 other musicians played but a single note together. Never before had I been so emotionally moved and transfixed playing with an ensemble, let alone simply warming

up with one. It was the combination of pure joy in collaborating with all these wonderful, passionate, and extraordinarily talented people with the immense feeling of appreciation I had in being accepted that had truly demonstrated to me what an “honor” ensemble meant.

Far beyond the consolidated idea that it was simply a big band with good players in it, the idea of an “honor” ensemble represented to me the great luxury that is celebrating your love for something with a collective of like-minded individuals. To have been able to immerse myself in a love for an art and to have the opportunity to do so with a large community of equally determined people was the highest privilege I could have ever received. How beautiful it was to experience this near divine feeling of belonging and home performing with these musicians. Perhaps they had felt the same, perhaps they had not. The only established fact was that the same individuals whom I witnessed in that ensemble on that chilly January day in 2017 had appeared every year thereafter in similar ensembles at the beginning of each year. It would be most reasonable to assume that a very similar sense of community and welcome was what guided them back to those rehearsal rooms. Although I had only ever experienced this intense feeling of togetherness playing in an ensemble, I do not doubt the significance of this drive in every other realm of artistry or hobby. Of course this is not without consideration to the personal side of such interests. Men and women are forever welcome to learn the piano only to ever perform for oneself in the solidarity of their household or to play basketball alone on their backyard half-court, but none of these partakings in crafts will triumph the sense of inclusivity that accompanies sharing the love of something with others.

The impact of this event still ripples throughout my consciousness to this day. It has been especially noticeable during this quarantine and social isolation. I long for that sense ofcommunity and family even more desperately in these trying times. The blissful sensation of being completely consumed by my music and communicating with peers how we could further enhance it was essential to my getting through the school year. However, there is no doubt that I will temper such a minute struggle of “belonging” with the painful hardships of financial instability and lossed loved ones which other families have experienced. I am no stranger to these hardships. My grandmother passed away this summer from COVID-19, a tragic passing that shook my family. It was difficult attempting to gather a family together that was geographically scattered. It was difficult not being able to be with my grandmother in those last moments. It was difficult seeing my dad so melancholy and empty in his mourning. Without surprise the few moments of solace came when my family nostalgically reminisced over long ago events. We’d share fragments of joy recollected from the farthest reaches of our memory, so minute in occurrence yet so heartwarming and fulfilling to think about. Surely this was no gathering of musicians nor any collaboration of hobbyists, but the togetherness we had as a family, regardless of political or ideological differences, allowed us to celebrate the life of a loved one and find comfort in one another. We have all struggled through this year and the struggles endured today will be the struggles endured for months to come, but when all the vigor of positivity and hope is lost amid a sea of troubles, find the community, no matter how big or small, no matter if it is of family or of friends or strangers, that allows you to undeniably and unapologetically be you. You can place all your trust in the knowledge that something will be rekindled from it that will allow you to continue on your journey once again.