Ever since she walked through the doors of kindergarten, everyone knew Ariel was, shall we say, “different”.  While the other kids read One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish, Ariel sat in the corner enjoying her tattered library copy of War and Peace.  She knew her ABCs in four different languages before the other kids learned up to letter “P”.  She could find the derivative of a quadratic function, while other kids could barely count to ten.  Her mom called her abilities “special”. The doctors called it “a case of autism like they’ve never seen before”.

Her kindergarten teacher immediately pulled her up to first grade, where she was then pulled up to second grade, and third, and fourth, and fifth, until eventually she made it to highschool at the age of seven years old.  

Though she excelled in all of her classes, high school proved to be a challenge for little Ariel.  She found it difficult to make friends, as everytime she tried to speak, she would say the wrong thing and people would give her funny looks.  She often became angry with herself, resulting in the throwing of books on the floor, screaming, crying, running away, or all four. Eventually, Ariel stopped trying to talk to people, and chose to live in silence.  The only person she would utter a single word to was her mother.

Ariel’s mother was a waitress.  They lived in a small apartment in New York City, where, as Ariel told her mom, “it smelled like rats and stinky shoes.”  They struggled to afford weekly groceries, let alone the sheer amount of school supplies Ariel needed to write papers and do research.  Usually, Ariel would walk a mile alone to the nearest library to read and do homework.

When she wasn’t reading however, Ariel would practice her violin.  It was a cheap, broken down violin that was given to her by her neighbor, who worked as a music teacher at an elementary school.  The teacher, who pitied Ariel and her hard working mother, agreed to give Ariel lessons for free. However, it wasn’t long before Ariel’s skill level surpassed that of the young teacher.  Within the span of a year, Ariel had moved on from simple scales to Wieniawski concertos and Paganini Caprices. Her mother couldn't afford a teacher that could keep up with Ariel’s talent, so she was forced to rely on her own knowledge from books and information she’d researched at the library.  Often times, the librarians would allow Ariel to print out sheet music for free. All Ariel had to do was go up to the counter and look at the librarian, and she would help her access the music database, print out whatever piece Ariel had picked out, and send her on her way with a “shhhh”.

Whenever Ariel played the violin, she no longer felt alone.  She spoke to the music, and the music spoke to her. It was a conversation in which she never had to worry about saying the wrong thing or getting laughed at.  Her thoughts moved swiftly from her mind to her fingertips and were converted into beautiful, silky tones and pitches which flowed off the strings to create a song.  Her music served as a distraction from the noises of the city, and filled her ears with new melodies and perfect harmonies.

Time went on, and Ariel’s abilities continued to grow. Soon she was writing her own music: concertos, symphonies, sonatas, and more.  When she graduated high school, as valedictorian might I add, she used her incredible abilities to audition for countless music schools, hoping to not only receive an acceptance letter, but a significant amount of scholarship money.  Her endeavours were successful, as offers for full-rides came flying in from almost every school she auditioned at. The one that caught her eye however, was the envelope with “Julliard” written on the front in big letters. Exclusive, close to home, filled with the most talented musicians in the United States, Juilliard was her dream school.  The only thing stopping her was the outrageous tuition. Her mom could barely afford to put food on the table, let alone send her to college. Filled with apprehension, Ariel picked up the letter and carefully broke the seal of the envelope. She anxiously tapped her foot on the floor as she unfolded the letter, which read as follows;

Dear Ariel Goodridge,

Congratulations! It brings me great pleasure to inform you on behalf of the Juilliard music faculty that you have been accepted into the Fine Arts Program for the 2017-2018 school year.  We firmly believe your enrollment will provide great opportunities to join a community of musicians and provide a fun and challenging education. In addition, we were quite impressed with your performances and obvious talent at such a young age, and would like to offer you a full scholarship to Juilliard, seeing as we believe you would make a great addition to our competitive music community.  We extend to you every encouragement to join us this year!

Sincerely,

Martha Cavanagh

Associate Director for Admissions

Fall, 2018, 9 year old Ariel Goodridge packed her book bag and set off on the long walk to the first day of her college education at Julliard.  Humming as she walked, she moved her fingers through the air, following the same fingering pattern of the piece she was learning at the time. She looked at the ground, being careful not to make eye contact with anyone that walked past.  

Finally she arrived at Juilliard.  For the first time that day, Ariel dropped her violin case and picked her head up to marvel at the complexity of the architecture in front of her. The sunlight perfectly reflected off the windows of the building, making it appear as if someone had smothered it in flecks of gold glitter. The massive triangular structure that composed the main building was made almost entirely out of glass which sparkled in sunlight.  If Ariel looked close enough, she could see people in the windows practicing instruments or dancing. A grin of excitement formed on Ariel's face. This was the school for her.

“Where’s your mom, sweetheart?”

Ariel turned around.  Standing behind her was a young girl, who Ariel assumed was a college student.  She was crouching down in an attempt to get to Ariel's height, and had a strange look on her face that Ariel couldn't decipher.

Beginning to panic, Ariel started to rapidly tap her foot on the ground and rub her hands together.  She looked down trying to form an explanation, a sentence, a word, a sound, but to no avail. She turned away from the girl and ran towards the building.  As she ran, she heard laughter from behind her.

“I don’t think she likes you very much, Megan!” said a girl’s voice.  More laughter followed. As she headed to her first class, tears formed in Ariel’s eyes as she began to realize college would be no different than any other school she’d ever gone to.

The next few weeks were just repeats of that first day.  She walked to school, making sure to keep her head down, people would stare and point, students would approach her and ask where her mother was, Ariel would run away.  It was the same routine everyday. One day in particular was so bad, Ariel tried to pull all her hair out and her mother had to take her to get her hair cut so that it was too short to pull. Another time, Ariel was supposed to present her project for her Arranging 1 class, but when her name was called she panicked and couldn’t get up out of her seat, causing the whole class to stare at her, leading to the rapid tapping of Ariel's foot and anxious rubbing of hands to eventually her running out of the classroom.

One day, disappointed in her mediocre performance in her Orchestra class, Ariel decided to go to one of those big sparkly glass windowed practice rooms she’d seen on the first day.  She liked the idea of being alone, where no one could try to talk to her. Carefully, she pulled her tattered violin out of its equally tattered case, tuned, and began to play her favorite warm-up scales.  As time went on, those scales transformed into melodies. Ariel could hear voices outside but for once, she didn’t care. Her mind was completely engaged with her music. Her fingers danced across the fingerboard without a single stumble.  Her violin sang and echoed throughout the room until it was time for her to go to her next class.

The next morning, Ariel woke up to the sound of her mother calling her name.  This was unusual, as normally her mother wasn’t home at that time and her neighbor would be over to help her get to school.  Ariel walked into her small, dirty kitchen to see what her mother needed.

“The dean of Juilliard asked me to come to school with you today.  She says she has to meet with us about something important,” said her mother, with a concerned look on her face.

“Okay.” muttered Ariel, who dropped her head and walked away to get ready for school.

Holding hands, the mother and daughter walked into the dean's office together. They sat down in the two wooden chairs placed ominously in front of the dean’s desk. Behind the desk was the Dean, and sitting next to her, the same young girl that had tried to speak to Ariel on her first day. The dean introduced her as Megan.

“What seems to be the matter?” asked Ariel’s mom.  Ariel just kept her head down and stared at her fingers, which she moved in the pattern of Partita III in E major, one of her favorite pieces by Bach. The Dean didn’t speak, but simply turned her computer screen so that the two could see it. On the screen was a YouTube video. Her mother gasped.  Ariel didn’t think much of it at first, but a closer look at the screen revealed that the video was of her! The dean pressed play on the video, which was of Ariel in the practice room playing the sonata she had written that week. Her mother’s eyes remained locked on the screen throughout the duration of the video, while Ariel kept her eyes on her hands.

“It appears Megan here,” said the dean, “has posted a video of you young lady, and it is quite impressive!  I can’t say I’ve heard this piece before…”

“She wrote it herself!” Her mother chimed in.

“All the more impressive!” answered the Dean. “And the internet thinks so too. Overnight, this video has gotten over one million views.”

“Ariel, you’re famous!” said her mother, turning to her and smiling. Ariel said nothing, but smiled with her head still down.

“Not only are you famous with the internet, you’re also quite popular with the Young Musicians Talent Association. They’ve invited you to compete in the National Competition for Young Violinists this year. They think you have potential for first place,” said the Dean.

Ariel, breaking all previous patterns, looked up from her hands to look first at her mother, and then at the dean, and then at Megan.  Megan was short, had dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. Megan smiled at her, showing off her perfectly straight white teeth. For some reason, Ariel couldn’t look away.  She even tried to smile back at her, but it ended up looking more like a crooked, toothless attempt at a smile.

“However,” continued the dean, “this video was uploaded without Ariel’s permission, and we are legally required to delete the video unless you specify otherwise.”  Megan looked out the window, attempting to avoid eye contact with Ariel’s mother, ashamed of her unintentional mistake.

“No need!” said Ariel’s mom, looking at Megan.  “If people like my little Ariel, I say keep the video up!”

And with that, Ariel’s mother shook hands with Megan and the Dean, and the two left the building to go celebrate Ariel’s new fame.  On the way out, Ariel even did a sort of half-wave goodbye to Megan.

In the following months, people began to recognize Ariel more and more.  People staring and pointing was hard for her, so Megan agreed to start walking with her to help take care of her.  She entered the National Competition for Young Violinists and, as predicted, won first place. With the $10,000 reward money, Ariel and her mother moved into a nicer apartment even closer to Juilliard than before.  As time went on, Ariel and Megan grew closer, and Ariel became more comfortable around her. On a rare occasion, she would even say small phrases to Megan such as “okay” and “thanks”. Megan helped Ariel arrange performances, starting small on the stage at Juilliard and working her way up to Carnegie Hall.  Ariel became known by the internet as “The Little Violinist.” She played alongside professional orchestras, performed for celebrities, and was the main subject of countless news articles and talk shows. Not once did she have to speak, or even look at anyone, for her music gave her the ability to express herself without a single word or facial expression.  Her perseverance and dedication to her music pulled her to the top, and in an instant she went from “a case of autism like never before” to “the little violinist” who did the impossible.