Ever since I was young I loved piano. I LOVED sitting in the living room on my dad’s lap for hours listening to him play. I have a picture from when I was three, sitting at a piano, taking in the beauty of the instrument. When I was six, I remember my dad having this beautiful big grand piano under these big green spiral stairs in his old apartment complex lobby. He would play it for everyone who walked by. Every other weekend when I was at his house I would sit on his lap or next to him on the little black bench and listen to him play. He taught  me notes and keys. He explained the beauty of the piano through his eyes.

That's when I realized that was something I wanted to do, hearing the way the keys combined to form a beautiful tune. The song he would play most, he wrote himself. It was the best thing I’d ever heard. My love for piano grew as I grew, and I finally got my own. I was around 7 or 8 when I got my first keyboard.  I spent days, weeks, months learning different songs: River Flows in You by Yiruma, Fur Elise by Beethoven, Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish. I facetimed my dad and showed him my progress. Sometimes too, he would go to his keyboard, set his phone up, and play me his song. I loved that song.

At first I taught myself, labeling each key and looking up songs on Youtube. Then I progressed to taking classes after school around the age of 13.  I loved those classes and I felt as though I was learning a lot.  But unfortunately after a few months, we were unable to afford the lessons and I had to stop.  My dad moved to Puerto Rico soon after. I felt very disconnected from the piano. My dad was not there to teach me, to help me through my mistakes and frustration of not getting the songs right.

Then COVID-19 came. During quarantine, I once again started gaining back my love for the instrument. I was stuck at home with my piano in the corner of my room. With nothing to really do at this time, I began to play again. This is something that boosted my overall mood. Soon I was playing constantly. I would wake up, do my zoom classes, and as soon as they ended I would get right to playing.  It was all I was really looking forward to.

Then in-person school started again and I rarely touched the piano. It just sat in my room, growing dust upon the keys. Freshman year was hard, for lots of reasons, but with school and my first job, it seemed I never had time for the piano anymore.

But sophomore year we were able to pick elective classes. As soon as I saw I had the option to take a piano class, I was beyond ecstatic. I joined the class and loved it. The teacher was so bubbly and accepting, I had friends in that class, it was my favorite part of  school. That class was part of my main motivation for school.

But then, in my second semester I was taken out of Piano class. I had been struggling with my history and English classes and with attendance. I was not given much of a choice, school officials  just told me piano would be replaced with an online class.  This really upset me. I lost my motivation to go to school and I felt like I really had nothing to look forward to. I sometimes would still play at home, but it was rare.

Now, junior year, I have no room in my schedule for electives. I don’t play piano much. I often feel discouraged, I don't feel it is something I'm good at anymore. I am learning to have other motivations for school, but it is still a struggle. Now this big beautiful keyboard sits in the corner of my room with junk covering the keys. But I hope one day soon I will dust off the keys and learn to play my dad’s song, that song I've always admired.

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