deleware essay

Why I am applying to the study music at the University of Delaware

There was a bird, on one of those beautiful afternoons, that failed to notice the sun and sang a less fair tune. On the balance of a wire in a gorgeous red coat this silent little bird refused to improve his recognized melody. Offended, perhaps by the bedlam of the cars and the pavement that had suffocated what used to be the pleasant grassy scenery, this reddish songbird remembered a time without the noise and without the stares, when peace was found without a search and the sun shined everywhere. However, a memory of such comfort failed to rouse a song from the stubborn little winged soprano. The foolish bird in his self-important manner felt that these times do not deserve his tune. So resting now on the wire without his musical profession the bird’s coat grew brown. This was an ugly story of rejection and refusal that caused an innocent coat to suffer the loss of his amazing colors.

            Soaring off away from the wire, into the foundations of the clouds, breathing life where humans are forbidden to go, to the stars and the moonlight. Here flew the bird from the treetops to those wretched buildings alike. Finally, there I was in the passenger seat of an automobile. Staring through the window into the endless sky, I saw the bird. I knew not his history, but in his pride and vanity he raced our machine. Through streets and alleys, highways and hills, we competed in speed and flight till the bird grew bored, and flew higher into the depths where we could not follow. Then who was the victor? This bird cared not for my concerns, nor my driver’s. In his unconcern, this feathered soprano was at peace while we remained fettered to our strict schedule. When this race led us to the school, the bird remained liberated. We set off to learn of chemicals and spices, how to dissect math and poetry. The songbird set off to enjoy a day of music and scenery. Our fate was to be inside, where the sun hardly struggled to shine.

            Was this bird, which at a time rejected the sun, more favored than I to enjoy this gentle sky? I remained in my classroom, the scenery tantalizing beyond the window. That glass, which so fragile could shatter any moment, was the strongest guard of life’s array. There sat I in the classroom when the same bird on the other side of the window sat atop a branch, staring at me with its little bird eyes asking what I was doing inside. Asking if I was too afraid to break the window and jump into his river. Then my attention was turned to the subject. We were trying to understand how Sylvia Plath used assonance to arouse passion. Lightly I could hear the bird tapping on the same window that smiled its glassy smile mockingly, asking me to come outside and sing with her the tunes of those old composers. I was shaking my head, aggravated, for it was not yet my time to be free.

            The seats were cold, but there was still this comfort in their metal. It is where I am meant to be, not always, but for now locked into this phase. To be elsewhere could only create distrust and discomfort. Perhaps I have too easily complied with these arbitrary strictures. Still, I do not grieve, because in these places of stern conformity I shall become a dreamer of imperishable hopes. I dream of a time in liberty, when I will not wonder at the sky but fly beyond my imagination. In this metal seat my coat goes brown because of my rejection of the sun. However, red it will be when the time comes that music speaks freely and the window beside this desk becomes my ally and not my prison.