Credit a DJ for his hard work the next time you enter a club.

They have a hard job.

Joining the CCA just proved how hard it could get.

For at least three weeks in the course, I’ve been the under-performer from the DJ class. I could throw in the pitch on the dot, but pairing the same instrumental together was too tough for me. When I stood up and heard very few skips in the piece, my mind blanked out.

What was the difference? Was the edited piece faster, or slower? How do I change it? What if I don’t get it? What if I stand here for hours and never get to it? There is some correct answer, but where?

I never touched the essential pitch button. The DJ tutor looked down right dark.

So, at the lesson where two different beats had to be mixed together, he looked at each of us and told us what we had to do. For me – “I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but you had better get your act together today.”

I was sober the whole lesson – different from lessons with light-hearted chatter and thumping hip hop music that sounded better than what the radios churned out – and I anticipated a very painful downfall.

Maybe I should pull out from the DJ lesson. I had the capacity and ability too. I’d be taking away a skill but I won’t be a master of it. I had other activities to pull up precious university-booster CCA points.

But… I was already one year into this pioneer CCA club. I had a lot of opportunities open for me to get a leadership role and pull in more CCA points - way loads more.

However, I haven’t been performing.

The tutor was right. I had better get my act together today or else I’d be gone.

This was the hardest part of being a DJ, the tutor started. Putting two different beats together was all a DJ did to get the money and reputation. How well he did it and how he shows his style while doing it is the difference.

It’s just the matter if anyone could catch the gist today.

The first classmate went up – and went totally lost.

The second one followed – and she was fretting until she forgot where her headphones were.

And next up was the failure, me.

I slowly started, and repeated the mental plan in my head: Just listen for the first and third beat. Get those two together. You’d do fine. Slow, and steady. A little will-power.

Somehow, someway, I did it. I pitched and ran the vinyls together, but somehow, everything started to click into place.

I pitched until the vinyl ran around more than once, but the tutor and students were in a friendly discussion about which city housed the coolest scene, and the difference between house DJ and hip hop DJ.

So when I threw it out into the open, the tutor was suddenly all ears.

“You’re nearly there. A little bit more.”

I pressed the vinyl forward a few beats, and it matched. Perfectly.

He looked at me.

“You playing me? (You) Can’t pitch (the) same beat, but can pitch two different beats?”

My face flushed and I breathed a great sigh of relief. The tutor thought I broke down, and we all laughed at the achievement of the underdog.

The fourth student and last student managed to pitch well, and the tutor seemed in a good mood as he ended class.

I don’t think I’ll be putting away the DJ Club shirt. I’ve gotta start looking for DJ turntables and a mixer.