For the first time in my life, I considered careers outside of education. I joined the marching band at Western Carolina University under the persuasion of a friend of mine. I was still resolute about not majoring in music and, therefore, not teaching music. Teaching history was still in the forefront of my mind, although it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold what would become a burning passion for music at bay. As my first year in college came to a close, I had yet to declare a major and knew that I did not need to start my sophomore year without one. It should have been a stress-free decision since I had made up my mind that I was going to be a history teacher. I had taken an entry-level history class, which I started with tons of enthusiasm, only to find that I absolutely detested said history class. Knowing I could not manage a four-year run at a degree with animosity, I grudgingly began to consider music, realizing history was more of an interest than a career option. I did not view myself as an adequate musician. My own self-conceived limitations led me to believe that I did not have the skill to be successful. Finally, however, I set up an audition with the music department. I was given the audition materials and I set out to practice what I perceived to be an impossible task. On the day of the audition, I stood outside the room, which I knew to contain my