Being Different: Thank you Aimee

When I was shopping in that big box store that we're all familiar with the other day I noticed, as I usually do, lots of young people wandering aimlessly about talking on cell phones, sending text messages and having inane conversations. Watching and listening to these people causes us certified old folks to think that there's not much hope for America. We worry that the pervasive influence of a dumbed down educational system is creating a whole generation of youngsters that can only speak gibberish. But then along comes a glimmer of hope. That glimmer for me was the appearance of an essay by one of my very young cousins out in Texas. Her name is Aimee and she has graciously allowed me to reprint her essay here. Aimee is a middle school student and a very bright young lady. She is also a musician and this essay was written for a competition sponsored by the Texas Music Teachers Association. In the essay Aimee explains in a clever way some of the differences between music of different eras and along the way she teaches us a little about differences in people. She won the competition which isn't too surprising considering the quality of the writing. She's a talented kid, one that offers us old folks some pleasant reassurance. Thank you Aimee, for being different.

Being Different
by Aimee Bourey

“Normal is not an option!” Lizzie glared at me in defiance as joggers slowed down to stare at us. She stuck out in the small park with her loud voice, bright blue hair, neon green clothes, and ruby red nails dotted with little black hearts.

“What?” I sighed. We were walking through the park on our way home from school. Today I gave a speech in Social Studies titled “How Teens Try to Fit In.” Of course there were repercussions. Lizzie continued on as only she could.

“You’re so normal Lauren! Even your name is normal. Do you know how many normal girls, and possibly even some very abnormal guys, share your name? You could be the queen of normal, with your normal brunette hair, and your normal brown eyes. Is it your goal to blend in with every other person?”

Lizzie rambled on and I let my attention wander. We walked by an amphitheater and I caught a glimpse of a theater company rehearsing Peter Maxwell Davies’s Eight Songs for a Mad King. I heard Lizzie conclude her complaints, so I turned my attention back to her.

“You could at least go by India, your middle name; it’s pretty and different!”

I paused with a smile. “Well, if you think about it, you’re the normal one. Since the early 1900’s everybody has tried to be different! We’re a strange generation, where being different is pretty much normal. The music we listen to and create today would probably be unimaginable to early composers. Today composers frequently use unpleasant-sounding, dissonant chords, like sevenths, and unusual time signatures like 5/8 and 7/8. For example, Igor Stravinsky’s Firebird is written in 7/4 time.”

She looked at me with a confused smile and we walked down the amphitheater steps to watch the rehearsal. I tried to follow the horridly pitchy voices and the bizarre cacophonous orchestral music that was Eight Songs for a Mad King. Climbing chromatic scales played with a whimsical air while the vocals screeched and plunged from high notes to low growls. Dog walkers all around us tried to settle down their antsy dogs while they wondered what in the world this was.

“See?” I said. “This song is exactly what I am talking about!” This is the strange, jarring music of our era. I think that this just shows you—” Lizzie interrupted; of course.

“This just goes to show that in this era, all musicians are nut-jobs. But I see what you mean. I think. Everyone is trying to stand out nowadays. So technically I’m pretty normal!” She laughed to herself.

I kept on talking. “Contemporary composers seem to follow different rules than everybody else. They use modal scales, which most people stopped using after Bach’s time, but…well, I guess we’re just a strange kind of people. Contemporary music can also have different key signatures in the melody and harmony. That was probably not even thought of until the contemporary era.” As I went on, my voice rose in excitement. “Though this song may be a little wild even for the contemporary era, it helps give you the idea. A lot of songs almost sound like people are playing wrong notes! If you ever listen to some of Bela Bartok’s work, you’ll see what I mean, like in Six Dances in a Bulgarian Rhythm. In those songs a lot of the chords sound like mistakes, but his music is a whole lot easier to listen to than this one. ” I winced at a weird screaming part in the song.

“Well,” Lizzie said, wincing as well, “it’s nice to know that some music written in our time is listenable.” She looked around. “Hey, there’s a music store! You wanna go see if we can find some different music?” She said with a smile. I knew that she was through with calling me normal. At least for now.