The Big Black Crow

When I was a child, my mother read a Chinese newspaper article to me. The article was about a little girl and how she despised practicing piano. She described its appearance as a black crow with giant white teeth. Eventually, they got rid of the piano and she stopped playing. The day the piano was moved out, she did cartwheels on their front lawn to display her joy that the crow was gone. She reflected back years later about how she wished she hadn't taken lessons with such disdain and that she actually missed her big black crow.

My story is similar. I really disliked practicing as a child. It was so hard to fork up 30 minutes to an hour of time to sit and devote toward practicing. So when I quit lessons, it was such a relief to not feel the pressure to force myself to sit and play. After a few months of hiatus, I realized I found myself choosing to go back and sit and play. Not necessarily for long periods of time. Maybe 10 minutes here and 20 minutes there. But I continued to play, no longer for myself but for others. I continued accompanying at music festivals for friends and through referrals. I continued to play piano at church for Sunday worship.

In college, I even continued to do so to the extent that I would drive home on the weekends solely for the purpose of rehearsing with students or playing at a festival. The money I was spending to drive home sometimes wasn't even made up by the money I earned. But I did it because there was something about it I loved. I loved playing music. I loved hearing the music and how the notes I was playing were flowing together in such a way to make melodies.

My dad never sold our big black crows. Thank goodness. And instead of watching mine be taken away and doing cartwheels on the front lawn, I stood watching it as the movers carefully maneuvered it down the front steps of my dad's house and rolled it into my very own living room while trying not to pass out from fear.

My 7'6" (not so baby) baby. 

I'm not the pianist I used to be, but I've slowly discovered to love the talent I possess. Six years ago, a friend asked me while on break, "Do you play piano a lot in your spare time?" At the time I responded, "Sometimes." I didn't have access to a piano very often, and it didn't occur to me to play when I had the chance. Things always got in the way. Here's what he said next.

"If I were you, I would spend hours playing."

That was the first time it really occurred to me that I had a talent not easily earned. And I've spent the last six years keeping my skills alive however I can. Now, with my piano in my very own living room, I hope I can continue practicing and revive some old classical favorites I used to so easily master.

And I hope that I can share with my own future kids, and that you can share with your children as aspiring musicians, a different story. My big black crow was moved into my own house in my own living room. And I still continue to play on it, (almost) every day.

Two Years a To

I wanted to get married as a young child because I wanted to change my last name. At the start of every school year, my teachers would always struggle with pronouncing my last name. I was more thankful for the ones who just waited for me to say it first before trying.

When I got married, I legally changed my name rather quickly for a number of reasons.

1. I was unemployed and had time to wait at the social security office on a weekday for 3 hours.
2. My driver's license expiration was coming up in a few months so it would make it easier to get that changed in one swift motion as well.
3. I always wanted to.

After legally changing my name, I realized that To wasn't necessarily better than Aur. Growing up, chances were I'd end up with a longer last name, because you know, the phonetics of the English alphabet don't allow for many words, much less last names, shorter than three letters. Somehow, I ended up defying all odds there. 

Then, I realized that To was "easy" to pronounce, perhaps too "easy" for most people. Being that it is an actual English word in the alphabet, people get overly confident and pronounce it to͞o. Usually I don't bother correcting them because it's a one-time interaction. I've gotten pretty used to it now, but every now and then if you catch me in the wrong mood, it'll irritate me more than it should.

One time when I was calling the doctor's office for information, I called before office hours so they gave me the option to type in the first three letters of my last name. Well, I typed in my WHOLE last name and hit # and got an error message....so I had to wait and call again after they opened to speak to a real person.

I haven't changed the name on my passport yet because at the time we got married, I had almost 6 years to go until it expired. So whenever we travel out of the country, I just have to remember to book the ticket under my maiden name. The only downside is that sometimes we don't get assigned seats next to each other and have to ask to switch. I've got just under 4 years left, and then my identity as an Aur will only remain in those who knew me as one.

Sometimes when I really think about my name, it' strange that it is what it is. Do I miss my last name? Sometimes. Would I have kept it the same without changing it? Probably not. I remember intentionally asking my students that summer before I got married to call me Ms. Aur instead of Ms. Cathy because I knew it would be the last time I could use that name.

Just before we were Mr. and Mrs. To

I was an Aur for over 23.5 years. I've been a To for 2. Perhaps we will revisit this topic again in another 21 years and I'll tell you how I feel then. :)