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Teen Ink Magazine, September 2007: Focus: Performing

I Act With Delight
by Bridget O., Jim Thorpe, PA
   With a soft click, the door closes behind me, and the last sliver of golden light disappears. My eyes adjust slowly to the enveloping darkness.
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Ivory Keys
by Marissa C., Franklin Lakes, NJ
   The roar of applause subsides: my cue to go up. I walk down the center aisle, my knees shaking with each step, and take a seat at the piano in the front of the room.
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Improvisation
by Becca P., New City, NY
   I’m sweating profusely in my hard plastic chair, clutching my saxophone like a baby grasps a rattle.
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Perfect Harmony
by Alissa T., Winter Park, FL
   Perfect harmony. That was all I needed. Perfect harmony in my life, all aspects coinciding and creating peace and happiness in my mind and my soul. Some say this is unattainable. I would have thought so, but tonight, sitting down in front of an old piano, I did the impossible.
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Musical Dreams
by Teresa Y., Brooklyn, NY
   People are like individual pieces of the earth’s crust. They pull apart, push together and constantly change. Always bound to cause some major earthquake and smattered tremors, people are extremely complex.
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Dance Jitters
by Tina B., So. Plainfield, NJ
   Wearing our magenta mini-skirts and sequined tops, the other dancers and I were ready to dazzle the judges.


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A Winning Moment
by Connor R., Shorewood, IL
   Phone ringing ... adrenaline pumping ... palms sweating. I reached for the phone. “Hello?” I said tentatively. Little did I know that call would change my life.


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The Wholehearted Dancer
by Lauren C., Hopkinton, MA
   Gleaming with pride at what we do, with curlers and make-up everywhere, we frantic and bubbly dancers anticipate the day’s events. As the community of Irish dance grows, the competition becomes more intense.
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The Pits
by Jeffrey L., Harvard, MA
   As the conductor flicks his baton upward, our eyes flash as if a bolt of lightning has struck. Our instruments bolt into the ready position.
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Piano Man
by Danny S., Pheonix, AZ
   When I was five years old, I would frequently spend time at my grandparents’ house where they had a very old, but still usable, piano. I would sit for hours and hours, trying to figure out how to make the instrument work and play my favorite songs.
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Opening Night
by Danielle H., McDonough, GA
   I walk quietly onto the stage under the work lights, enjoying the dim silence of the moment. I wander among the set pieces, pensive, becoming the character I must portray, recalling my lines, my movement, the feeling.
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