Strength of Motivation

Auditorium The same auditorium where I went for the audition, located on a busy street in downtown Los Angeles. It was past midday. I was making my way as fast as I could through an eager crowd just to keep up with the same rhythm of the motion carrying my violin, even though I was running an hour early and the auditorium was only three blocks down. The weather was very much like hell, adding to the intensity of this very tiny crowded street. Fortunately, I had taken a shower. Society believed black people to be foul-smelling. I reminded myself where I was heading.

When I got to the auditorium, I was stopped at the entrance by the same security guard, exhausted face, from the first time. Once again he prevented me from entering.

"How many times do I have to tell you that there is no audition here?" he asked me with disregard.

"I am not here for an audition. I am here to see Mrs. De Vito," I gently replied.

"She doesn't accept visits without an appointment." He slightly pushed me away, out of his sight.

"Um...she knows I was coming. I am the newest member of the orchestra."

He burst out laughing just to provoke me.

"We don't have a zoo here."

"Can you let Mrs. Amanda know that I am here for the rehearsal?"

"What do I look like to you?"

"An illiterate, a madman, and an ignorant," I said, overreacting because I was getting very annoyed at his idiocy.

"I tell you what...why don't you get your monkey ass back to Africa?"

"Well...I hear a version of that story all the time and it's old. You need to come up with something new and more intelligent to say if you are trying to discriminate against me. I am used to hearing 'Go back to Africa' all the time, so it doesn't mean a thing to me now," I said politely, walking up to his chin. "Either you let me in, or let Mrs.

Amanda know that I am here, shoot me, or call the police. Until then I am not going back to Africa."

I took a step back, getting ready for any confrontations, but I wasn't about to provoke any physical fights. At that moment Amanda arrived behind me, classically dressed carrying a briefcase and a book with her eyes hid behind sunglasses.

"It's okay, John. You can let him in. He is joining the orchestra."

"Okay, Madame." He stepped aside and let us in as he stared at me.

A song of a violin and piano came from inside.

I rehearsed with Amanda. She was on the piano, and I was playing violin. We hit the final notes. Amanda kept quiet a brief moment, thinking, and then heaved a sigh.

"You play very well, and I am overwhelmed. Now I guess you and I can join the orchestra."