What is the best mistake you have ever made? Include its impact on you and how it altered your view of the world.
The best mistake I ever made also happened to be one of the most painful mistakes that I ever endured. My first professional audition ended with “thank you” being barked at me while I was in the middle of playing. In orchestral auditions, this does not mean the audition went well. It simply means “you are not what we are looking for so make room on stage for the next candidate.” I left the Chicago Symphony’s concert hall shaking from crippling nerves and feeling frustrated over a poorly played audition. Despite all the practice, I was not at a competitive level. This experience forced me to rethink myself as a cellist and change the way I approach any challenge I encounter.
After a few days of contemplation, I realized that I needed a teacher who could teach me how to turn my talent into a polished performer at an employable level. The teacher I approached proceeded to drill my technique and completely change the way I think about sound and artistry. Over the next year and a half, I slowly began to understand that, though I was practicing, I was not practicing in an efficient manner that led to any recognizable improvement. With my teacher’s guidance, I became more critical of my own playing, learned to practice in a way that produced real results, and eventually became my own “coach.” I began to think of both long-term improvements and short-term goals, learned to assess my areas of weakness, and determined my own training methods to more clearly translate emotions with the cello. Subsequently, I saw exponential improvements in my playing and discovered complexities in music that I never imagined existed. The more I practiced in this way, the more I grew as a cellist, and I began to experience joy in the process of hard work.
Although my first audition ended in failure, good things came out of that experience. I was forced to refocus my playing, met my mentor (the teacher), gained a deeper joy in polishing my craft, and took my playing to heights that I never thought were possible. With the improvements I made after my Chicago Symphony audition, I began to find employment not only as a performer, but also as a teacher. The San Antonio Symphony called me as a substitute cellist, and my teacher had me play part-time in his section at the Houston Symphony. Additionally during this time, my professor at Rice saw how quickly I was improving and invited me to stay on after graduation to help teach his students at the university. Rethinking my playing and my practice methods actually equipped me with the skills to be an effective teacher as well. I experienced for the first time how focusing on the task at hand, even if it is the consequence of failure, leads to good results and, in turn, big opportunities.
Performing and teaching opportunities have come to me in ways that I never imagined since I altered my performance. Consequently, I have been led to view playing cello with a profound sense of responsibility. While struggling to polish my talent into true ability, I realized my role as a servant of the audience and the importance of presenting my best effort on stage. Furthermore, I discovered I want the audience, as much as me, to enjoy the end product of my practice.
As I transition to a business career, I will bring with me the values I gained from my failed audition. Instead of providing a service as a cellist, I will be working to provide a product or service in a different role. Nevertheless, my responsibility remains to present a product or service which brings joy to the people I serve, whether it be an audience member or a future client. With the outlook that all failures can be turned into great victories, I look forward to contributing my values to my MBA colleagues and learning from people who will inspire me to push myself as an executive and consultant, just as my teacher inspired me as a cellist.