Walking into my shelter was terrifying. The room was off a narrow hallway painted a nauseating shade of yellow, blaring down on me as I whisper-sang under my breath. I'd been in there many times before, but this time left me in a nervous jumble. The foldable table decked out with an iPad and the sign-up sheets was thrown against one wall, stickers overflowing along its sides and quiet snickers emanating from the students sitting in the matching gray chairs. I don't remember much about actually being in the room. The panel of judges (aka, a couple teachers and the student directors from our local university) smiled as I sang the part. There wasn't anything in particular I can remember about the singing, just the feeling that my stomach was melting into my winter boots. I stepped out of that room in a thick haze, but a feeling permeated despite my numbness. My voice had rung out like a bell--a tinny, untrained bell, but a bell nonetheless. The notes had hit. I got a deep blue smiley face sticker. And I knew, that I had exited something much bigger than myself. Something I belonged to.