For all those who say time traveling is impossible,

 it’s not true.

Music is my time traveler.

It helps me regress.

Every song is an old memory,

producing waves of nostalgia.

The days my mom would put on songs from

el rancho,

and sing along as she swept around the house.

I would follow

just to hear her sing.

I wasn’t born with her singing talent.

I kept quiet,

Yearning to be able to sound

just as beautiful as she did.

But I don’t need a voice to make music.

Just willingness to learn.

 

I was introduced to every form of music.

Only one stood out among the rest:

the flute.

Awkward, lanky, and spider fingered

is what I’ve grown up being called,

the contradiction of femininity.

But at that moment,

I found myself at an advantage.

 

Nine years later

and I still have the same beat up flute.

I practice, gig, jam, break-it-down, swing, and groove on a daily basis.

It’s with me

when I wake up early in the morning for Jazz Band.

It’s with me

when I stay late after school for Concert Band.

It’s with me

when I go to All-City Performing Arts Concert Band on weekend afternoons.

It’s with me

when I practice at home every single day.

I’m surrounded by people

who share the same deep rooted passion for music as I do.

 

Music is my creative outlet,

allowing me to share ineffable ideas.

Music has the power

to captivate our attention,

 to wield our emotions,

to alter our moods.

Music is the extension of our voice.

This is why I do what I do.