Personal Narrative: New School's Choir Levels

When I transferred school districts my sophomore year, I was sorted into my new school's choir levels: beginner-level chorale, mid-level chorus, and the prestigious concert choir by my new instructor. I fared quite well in the basic sections, and he handed me a piece of music, asking me to sight-sing the song on either solfege or the words. Unsure what he meant by solfege, I muffled through it and placed into the women's chorus as an alto. This was the first time my mezzo soprano range had been assigned to the voice part in my then ten years of choir, and I was nearly offended at his choice. In a flare of arrogance, I initially presumed I needed the year to adjust to the new district, and would return to soprano, perhaps audition into the concert choir by the end of the year. I merely had to understand my instructor's bizarre style of teaching, and soon enough I would catch up.
As the class began the new school year, I realized not how advanced I was, but rather how behind I was instead. My instructor didn't teach strangely; I was previously high-level only because basic music theory had never been taught or tested before. These concepts were completely foreign to my ears, and instead of perfecting my technique, I stumbled after the
I decided to set aside the thought that I was scraping the bottom, and decided to climb to the top. When music for the next concert choir audition was posted, I ensured I was first in line for them. I immediately perfected Locus Iste with my voice teacher, and readied myself for the audition day. When I reported to the choir room, I was not “hoping” to do well, I was confident in my performance: I already knew my name would be on the list. I am now in the concert choir for my senior year, and can hold my head high for having worked for