“Success: A Life Story” - A Redefining Victory Film Proposal by Chloe

“Success: A Life Story” - A Redefining Victory Film Proposal by Chloe - April 2025 Scholarship Essay

The film begins quietly, with only a rattling portable fan in a child's bedroom. The camera is
focused on a young girl’s eyes, staring at her violin. Her eyes twitch anxiously. Her hand
reaches out, trembling, and she grasps her instrument. Breathing deeply, she trudges over to
her music stand. She flips through pages of music. She lifts her instrument to her neck,
determined to play every note perfectly, and gently places her fingers on the violin's
fingerboard.

Her first note is scratchy. The camera focuses on her misshapen fingers as they
struggle to reach the notes. She whispers, “I will never be able to play like other girls.” Loosening her grip, the girl lets her violin drop to the floor, and the scene cuts to black. The sound of the violin hitting the bedroom floor is heard.

**********

I was born with a genetic disorder named Brachydactyly, commonly known as dwarfism. I am quite short, and my hands are oddly misshapen. As a small child, I wanted to play the violin. But finding an instrument that fit my body was challenging. Even though I practiced daily, I couldn't play as well as my peers. My teachers told me that because of the shape of my hands, I may never be able to play advanced pieces. If success were measured by looking or playing “normally", I would never be able to achieve it.

As I began school, my parents realized that I was also unable to hear and learn like others. An audiologist diagnosed me with Auditory Processing Disorder. I could hear sounds as
quiet as negative twenty decibel levels! However, my brain was unable to prioritize any one
sound over another. This meant the typical classroom experience was an impossibility for me.
My doctor helped me understand that many kids with skeletal dysplasias also have mental deficiencies as well. I was diagnosed with short-term memory loss and ADHD. My audiologist told me that I would not be able to read beyond a fourth-grade level. My mom quit her job as a teacher and decided to homeschool me. Beginning in kindergarten, she pushed me to my limits. I memorized poems set to
music. I learned to read by following along with classic literature while listening to audiobooks.
Even though it took me years to memorize multiplication facts, she never gave up and patiently
quizzed me with flashcard after flashcard. If success were measured by achieving the highest
grades in class and learning things quickly, I would never reach it.

Violin lessons were my “brain break”, and I excelled quickly in my musical abilities. While I
couldn’t hear or remember what people were saying, I could play classical pieces from memory
that I had only heard a few times. The intense effort I spent navigating a world built on speech
was the same effort I applied to hearing music. But the musical side of my brain was not affected
by my disorders. The disability that frustrated me had created my true ability! I began
seeing myself, and my potential, in a new light. Perhaps success was staying true to my purpose
and abilities. Perhaps success was the joy I felt in chasing after my musical dreams even when I
faced adversity.

Arthur Ashe, a famous tennis player once said, “Success is a journey, not a destination. The
doing is often more important than the outcome.” True success is not about being the best in
your chosen field, but rather feeling the joy inside when you are pursuing and achieving
the best *you* that you can be.

My dream is to get a degree in music education and a masters degree in conducting. With this,
I plan to conduct advanced-level youth orchestras for kids who have disabilities like me in the
city of Philadelphia. I have gotten to where I am because of people who have given me
wonderful gifts and pushed me to be the best - not the best of my class, or my orchestra, but the best
*me* that I could be. My mom, a teacher, gave me the best education. My therapist worked with
me to teach me how to speak fluently. My violin teachers have given me tough lessons with
excellent feedback and direction. The orchestra I have been a part of has given me countless
leadership opportunities. I also want to inspire and support students as they try to achieve their dreams in non-traditional ways like I had to. I am committed to training any young musician
who wants to share their music to be successful, investing fully in my students, and ensuring
their voices—and their songs — are always heard.

**********

The violinist, now a young woman, comes back into view. She stands in front of a crowded
recital hall. She begins playing with passion, smiling, no longer plagued by her ill-formed hands,
genetic weaknesses, or learning disabilities. Instead, she is fully present in the moment, letting
the power of music work within her.

As the final notes ring, the camera pulls back, revealing the audience who jump out of their
seats with excitement. She did not perform perfectly, but it was the best performance she had
ever given. The camera returns to the musician’s face, whose eyes are filled with joy.
The screen fades to black; the only sounds heard are the muted voices of people happily exiting
the hall.