My cue was approaching which meant that there was no way out. I looked at my sheet music and the measures kept repeating, “10 measures until your solo...9 measures until your solo...8 measures until your SOLO...” As the sheet music kept counting down towards my impending doom, I gazed towards the audience and felt a sinking in my chest. The number of people appeared to be multiplying by the second. The chances of people seeing me make a mistake multiplied by a tenfold. The melody of the song was now finishing, and I knew from practice that my time was up. I stood up - heart racing, sweat pouring - and walked towards the microphone. I lifted my trombone and all eyes were on me now. I took the biggest breath imaginable and...

For a week during the summer I went to Jazz Camp. The mentors at Jazz Camp announced that every group would have to participate in the end-of-the-week performance. I went to the first rehearsal with my group, and it was a typical rehearsal: we played scales, rehearsed the songs, but then something unexpected happened. The jazz instructor said that everyone would have to play a solo. Mentally I was freaking out! The reason being that it was a jazz solo which in reality meant improvisation. He went down the line and asked everyone to improvise over a tune called, “Take the A Train.” Needless to say, my solo in class was bad. The instructor then said to be ready to improvise during the end-of-the-week performance. Although I didn’t like the idea of soloing in front of an audience I knew that if I didn’t prepare I would only disappoint myself. Simply ignoring it hoping for the best would not do. I grabbed a pencil and began preparing. I wrote down all the chords and memorized the notes in each chord. The only thing left to do was to practice improvising. When I was alone improvising was simple. There was no one around to judge my playing and critique my mistakes. However pretty soon I would have to perform in front of my peers and the thought of that frightened me. Since an early age I avoided social interactions where I would be the center of attention. I detested class presentations, oral essays, and anything that would require me to go in front of a crowd of people. Every time I would go up and present my thoughts would cease to exist. My mind went blank, and out of sheer nervousness I would say things that would not always make sense. This also happened frequently in my school’s band class. Whenever the conductor would call on me to play a piece I froze. Everyone’s eyes glaring at me - suggesting that they were expecting a flawless performance - paralyzed me. This time however would be different! I continued practicing until I could not feel my lips hoping that with practice I would gain confidence on stage. 

The next few days flew by and I found myself waiting for our cue to go on stage. The jazz band playing before us soon finished and we were now the center of attention. Our instructor was now in front looking down and with a swift hand and a fast mouth counted us in “1..2... 1..2..3..4” We were playing to our hearts content. Hearing everyone play was such a joyous moment to me, especially when I saw everyone play their solos. My time was now up. All the work and effort I put into this solo would soon pay off. I stood up and walked towards the microphone. I lifted my trombone with all eyes gazing on me. I took the biggest breath imaginable and played my heart out!