One Of The Most Embarrassing Moments Of My Life

I walked up to the stage in staggered steps like a zombie rising from the grave. My foot hit the stage, triggering a chain of claps from the crowd which radiated off the walls in the auditorium. There it was, the grand piano in all its glory, keys shining under the bright lights. I plopped myself down on the cushioned seat. What a marvelous piano, I thought, ignoring the impatient stares from the crowd. Why can’t I have one like this? I sat up straight, positioning my fingers on the keys, and played. The beautiful sound flowed through the piano and into the auditorium at a spectacular rate. Woah, that’s pretty cool. I wish I had this piano. I played fluently through my extremely short piece, each note creating meaning and purpose behind the note. When the last notes echoed through the auditorium, I thought to myself, Man, I’m so good, if I keep this up I can be the next Lang Lang. Feeling accomplished, I waited, looking for signs of the first claps in the crowd. Why isn’t anyone clapping? Did I mess up? I thought to myself. Beads of sweat started to form on the back of my neck. Finally, after a good ten seconds, the announcer stood up from her chair behind the stage curtains, walked up to the stage and started clapping profusely.

“Let’s give a big round of applause for Avery and his uh...short but uh...wonderful piece!”

The responsive from the crowd was really feeble. I was so embarrassed that night that I could never shake the feeling of being exposed in front of so many people. I still remember moments just like my piano recital, those “special” moments that stick with you forever, embedded solidly into your memories, building you into a unique person. I’ve had so many experiences with embarrassing moments and tough challenges that I accept what happens, build from it and move on. I vividly remember my first ice skating lesson when I was just six years old. My podiatrist had recommended that I should try ice skating to force my inward left foot to turn outward. My parents diligently drove an hour to the ice rink every Saturday just so I could attend my ice skating lessons. I still remember that cloudy Saturday when my mom called me down for my first lesson.

“Avery, come down, we’re going to be late!”

“Do I have to go? I don’t feel too well” as I sluggishly walked down the stairs.

“Yes, you have to go. You know this will help you later on in life”

“Fine, I’ll go” I replied as I walked out the door.

You have to realize that ice skating is not as easy as it looks to be. I was in for a rude awakening. We arrived at the ice rink with a bit more time than we had expected. It turns out, Saturdays are the busiest times during the week. There were people and cars everywhere. We luckily found a parking spot. I hopped out of the car and stumbled my way to the entrance along side my dad. As we walked into the main lobby, I was hit with the sweet smell of snacks from the concession stand. I saw so many different people, bustling around the lobby. Bulky hockey players were mixed into the crowd with slim figure skaters. My mom ushered me into the skate renting line. The figure skates were the color of mud with worn out laces. When my skates were tied, I slipped on my gloves, helmet, and pads and prepared to go onto the ice.

My teacher, a middle-aged woman, called my class and led me and some other kids into a cold and loud ice rink. We followed the teacher to a smaller rink. She proceeded to instruct us to step onto the ice. Many of the other kids got onto the ice with ease. I had a bit more trouble. I was not used to standing on a thin blade so I crawled onto the ice as if I still didn’t know how to walk. I fell so many times on the ice that even my pads couldn’t prevent the pain. So naturally being so young, I cried myself off the ice. I went up to my mom and upon glancing eyes, screamed: “I don’t want to ice skate ever again!” She responded in a harsh tone, “You are not going to quit just because you fell a couple of times, we are coming back next week and you are going to try again!”

Being as stubborn as I was, I refused until my dad came over to put some sense into me. When the next Saturday rolled around, I was still hesitant. After some threatening words of encouragement, I went into the ice rink. I stepped onto the ice and took a few nervous steps before I fell. I picked myself back up and tried again. Eventually, the more I tried again, the better I got the hang of skating around while, of course, holding an orange bucket. I was able to make it through the whole lesson without crying or leaving. From that day forward, I devoted myself to skating which eventually led to ice hockey. I have been playing ever since. I learned with a little bit of motivation and effort, you can achieve your goals. Everything that happens in your life happens for a specific reason. Experiences build a unique personality that will always be exclusive to you.