The Springfield Youth Symphony has a concerto competition every year for its members. Basically, if you sign up, you play a piece for the judges and they pick two contestants to get to play their piece with the orchestra for the end-of-year concert. I participated this year, and although I didn't win, still had an amazing experience. Here is one guy who did win, and blew us all away with his amazing ability. The video doesn't do his performance justice, but it's still pretty cool.
Because He lives, I can face yesterday.~ Jared C. Wilson
May 9, 2011
Survival of the SAT
Scene 1: A Dark and Dreary Saturday Morning
The alarm blares at 6:05, and my hand gropes its way out of the blankets to shut it off. I roll out of bed, rubbing my eyes and grumbling under my breath. I am not an early morning person. The sun hasn't come up yet, and I'm too tired to turn on a light, so I dress in the dark. Rizzo whines, and I let him out the door. I stumble to the bathroom and flick the light switch, yawning as I pop my contacts in. After I brush my hair and take the shine off my nose, I head upstairs to eat.
Mom greets me with an equation: a triangle's area is 1/2 base times height. I nod, and bite into a muffin. As I sip my milk, she regales me with the fact that the area of a circle is pi times r squared, while the circumference is two times pi times r. Three number two pencils sit atop my admission ticket on the table, hugging my calculator. The calculator will be my greatest ally in math. The clock says 6:43, so I shove my shoes on and head out to the car, audible equations following me. As I turn the key I remember that "Mozart makes babies smarter"; why not me? so I run in and grab my Mozart Piano Concertos CD. If anything it'll relax me.
Scene 2: A Dark and Dreary Test Center
It was an hour drive, maybe a little more. Fortunately there was no traffic, except around the fallen tree on the city street. I found the test center after getting upset at Google Maps for saying it was the first right, instead of the third. I found a parking lot, and was unpleasantly surprised by the sight of meters in it (how many quarters for 4 hours?), and then pleasantly surprised by a little sign on the meter that said "Monday-Friday". Sweet, now instead of spending my entire worldly goods on a meter I might have enough for an ice cream later, if I survive. I notified my parents I had arrived, and walked through the door.
There was a green sign: "SAT Reasoning Test This Way", with an arrow that pointed straight to a man sitting at a desk. I stood in line, and waited my turn.
He got to me and barked "Name?"
"Elizabeth Karako."
He thumbed through his lists. "Start with a C?"
"K, please."
He found it, and made a check. "Room 434, take the elevator to the 4th floor and exit to the right. Haveaniceday." Was he being funny?
Scene 3: A Big and Scary Test
I found the room just as the man said. I opened the door and found myself confronting 23 pairs of eyes, at 23 desks. (Identified SAT test-takers, all in same boat.) The only pair of eyes that wasn't looking at me was messing with something at a podium. (Identified SAT test-proctor, may or may not be friendly. Exercise caution.) There was one table left, in the back corner, so I headed there as quietly and as quickly as possible. I shoved my provisions box and my purse under the desk, and sat down, breathing hard. It was as quiet as a hearse in there. I tried to breathe more quietly, and silently unpacked my pencils, calculator and admission ticket. Hmm, wonder why the guy downstairs didn't want this? I surveyed the room, and noticed one brave soul was wearing a Steelers jersey. Ah, a fellow fan. Thank goodness for some light in this dark place. Glancing down, I noticed that my provisions box was halfway out in the aisle, so I got up to fix it and promptly tripped over my own feet. I hit the floor with a thud to wake the dead, and 23 heads swiveled towards my direction. The proctor must have been deaf. Pretending I was unaware of 23 burning gazes, I nonchalantly picked up my box and sat down. Silence reigned for 2 minutes, then the proctor seemed to notice that the time was 7:43, two minutes before the start of testing.
"Has anyone here not checked in?"
A long arm clothed in black and gold stretched its full length and silently pointed at me. 22 heads swiveled my way, again. Mr. Steelers fan, you are no friend of mine.
"Have you checked in?"
"Um, not up here. Was I supposed to?"
"Yes dear, please bring your admission ticket to me."
I fumbled it off of the desk and walked the long road up to the podium.
"Your ID please?"
I turned around, trudged back and obtained my driver's license, then slogged the weary miles to the podium. 23 pairs of eyes followed me the whole long way. I swear that aisle was longer than going to the moon and back.
Formalities completed, I collected my paperwork and marched back to my seat. I collapsed in my chair and had just enough time to take three deep breaths when Mr. Proctor started his SAT speech.
As a result of that speech, I can't tell you any more of what happened that day, or I will be hunted down and arrested by the ETS. Suffice it to say, those were the worst 4 1/2 hours I have ever been through in my life, and I am being propped up by life-saving machines as we speak. But, I survived.
The alarm blares at 6:05, and my hand gropes its way out of the blankets to shut it off. I roll out of bed, rubbing my eyes and grumbling under my breath. I am not an early morning person. The sun hasn't come up yet, and I'm too tired to turn on a light, so I dress in the dark. Rizzo whines, and I let him out the door. I stumble to the bathroom and flick the light switch, yawning as I pop my contacts in. After I brush my hair and take the shine off my nose, I head upstairs to eat.
Mom greets me with an equation: a triangle's area is 1/2 base times height. I nod, and bite into a muffin. As I sip my milk, she regales me with the fact that the area of a circle is pi times r squared, while the circumference is two times pi times r. Three number two pencils sit atop my admission ticket on the table, hugging my calculator. The calculator will be my greatest ally in math. The clock says 6:43, so I shove my shoes on and head out to the car, audible equations following me. As I turn the key I remember that "Mozart makes babies smarter"; why not me? so I run in and grab my Mozart Piano Concertos CD. If anything it'll relax me.
Scene 2: A Dark and Dreary Test Center
It was an hour drive, maybe a little more. Fortunately there was no traffic, except around the fallen tree on the city street. I found the test center after getting upset at Google Maps for saying it was the first right, instead of the third. I found a parking lot, and was unpleasantly surprised by the sight of meters in it (how many quarters for 4 hours?), and then pleasantly surprised by a little sign on the meter that said "Monday-Friday". Sweet, now instead of spending my entire worldly goods on a meter I might have enough for an ice cream later, if I survive. I notified my parents I had arrived, and walked through the door.
There was a green sign: "SAT Reasoning Test This Way", with an arrow that pointed straight to a man sitting at a desk. I stood in line, and waited my turn.
He got to me and barked "Name?"
"Elizabeth Karako."
He thumbed through his lists. "Start with a C?"
"K, please."
He found it, and made a check. "Room 434, take the elevator to the 4th floor and exit to the right. Haveaniceday." Was he being funny?
Scene 3: A Big and Scary Test
I found the room just as the man said. I opened the door and found myself confronting 23 pairs of eyes, at 23 desks. (Identified SAT test-takers, all in same boat.) The only pair of eyes that wasn't looking at me was messing with something at a podium. (Identified SAT test-proctor, may or may not be friendly. Exercise caution.) There was one table left, in the back corner, so I headed there as quietly and as quickly as possible. I shoved my provisions box and my purse under the desk, and sat down, breathing hard. It was as quiet as a hearse in there. I tried to breathe more quietly, and silently unpacked my pencils, calculator and admission ticket. Hmm, wonder why the guy downstairs didn't want this? I surveyed the room, and noticed one brave soul was wearing a Steelers jersey. Ah, a fellow fan. Thank goodness for some light in this dark place. Glancing down, I noticed that my provisions box was halfway out in the aisle, so I got up to fix it and promptly tripped over my own feet. I hit the floor with a thud to wake the dead, and 23 heads swiveled towards my direction. The proctor must have been deaf. Pretending I was unaware of 23 burning gazes, I nonchalantly picked up my box and sat down. Silence reigned for 2 minutes, then the proctor seemed to notice that the time was 7:43, two minutes before the start of testing.
"Has anyone here not checked in?"
A long arm clothed in black and gold stretched its full length and silently pointed at me. 22 heads swiveled my way, again. Mr. Steelers fan, you are no friend of mine.
"Have you checked in?"
"Um, not up here. Was I supposed to?"
"Yes dear, please bring your admission ticket to me."
I fumbled it off of the desk and walked the long road up to the podium.
"Your ID please?"
I turned around, trudged back and obtained my driver's license, then slogged the weary miles to the podium. 23 pairs of eyes followed me the whole long way. I swear that aisle was longer than going to the moon and back.
Formalities completed, I collected my paperwork and marched back to my seat. I collapsed in my chair and had just enough time to take three deep breaths when Mr. Proctor started his SAT speech.
As a result of that speech, I can't tell you any more of what happened that day, or I will be hunted down and arrested by the ETS. Suffice it to say, those were the worst 4 1/2 hours I have ever been through in my life, and I am being propped up by life-saving machines as we speak. But, I survived.
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