Twelve years in a choir is a long time—long enough to realize that while I was busy maintaining my spot in the top 1% of my class, my soul was actually living in the rehearsal room. I never once got tired of the harmonies; it was my favorite way to "escape" the world of textbooks and theorems.
By the time I reached my final years, I had evolved into the ensemble’s unofficial "Big Sister"—the one who knew every note, guided the younger voices, and made sure our collective sound was as polished as my GPA (with a bit more flair, of course).
On the international stage, I learned that even the best can be surprised.
World Choir Games 2023 (South Korea): We headed to the "Olympics of Choral Music" with high hopes. Walking away with a Bronze Medal was a bit of a reality check after being used to Gold and Silver, but representing my country on such a massive scale was a win in itself. It just gave me more reason to keep chasing that perfect pitch.
Not even a global pandemic could quiet us. Earning a Silver Medal while singing into a microphone at home taught me that harmony doesn't need a physical stage to be felt.
Twelve years, thousands of rehearsals, and a few international trophies later, I’ve realized one thing: I don’t just sing notes—I build worlds with them.