By Cooper Hoffman and Chloe Hsieh

The piano just outside of D1 is the closest thing Granada Hills Charter (GHC) has to a fossil. If this school was the Natural History Museum, that piano would definitely be one of the pieces tucked safely behind an inch-and-a-half of tempered glass.
The instrument’s age is almost intimidating. You can never be too harsh on the poor piano, considering there’s a non-zero chance that one slammed note may result in the timepiece being down an A key.


But, there’s also a more ephemeral quality to the piano’s age, it comes when you sit there and think. It’s the realization that thousands upon thousands of GHC students, from 2025 freshmen to 30 year-old alumni, have sat at that seat too, and played a few chirping notes into the air.


For all of our praise, the piano is still a gnarled, marred thing. Its keys have lost their luster under decades of repeated impacts from digits big and small, the wood is worn and scratched, plus it wobbles ever-so-slightly if you lean on it the wrong way. But focusing on its less than stellar look takes away from the piano’s true value.


“I see the wear on it, and you can tell that there’s a really rich history behind it,” junior David Botros said. “You can tell it’s well-loved, even if it’s not the most well maintained. Seeing the wear and time it took to get to that condition is really poetic. It’s still standing there, providing people the ability to express themselves.”


Botros and his friend, junior Kainen B., are two of GHC’s frequent informal pianists; some of the many students who play this piano during their fleeting lunchtimes. Though many students complain that thirty minutes isn’t enough time to eat and relax, these two manage to squeeze in a mini practice session too—a regular sacrifice of time that reveals just how important it is.


“Playing the piano is a means of self expression,” said Botros. “I think it’s beautiful to convey whatever emotion you want, just by the chords and feel.”


Surprisingly, they’re both relatively new players, though you wouldn’t be able to tell from their sound. And what’s even more interesting is that this exact ancient keyboard outside of the choir room is what got them into playing; the very experience that ignited their new passions for music.


Just two months ago, Botros didn’t even own a personal keyboard before starting to casually play at GHC. Now, he practices several hours a day when he gets home, on his brand-new—and conveniently cheap—keyboard. Yet, the D1 outdoor piano still holds its own unique charm in comparison.


“It gets an emotional value because of its age,” said Kainen. “A piano changes over time, and you can feel the age when you play. It serves as a time piece almost, people have honed their skills and talents over the years, really making their mark.”


Botros feels the same way. Even to the untrained ear, the history is palpable within the piano’s song.


“Honestly, I feel like you can tell just by the sound: the slightly off tune, higher octaves,” said Botros. “It has a certain resonance and sound just because of the wear. Even if it’s not the most practical, the age makes it almost nostalgic.”


Not only did the outdoor piano help these two discover their love for music, give them a way to express themselves, and a new hobby, but this ancient keyboard has also served as an important instrument in their friendship–pun intended.


“Kainen got me into playing piano at school,” said Botros. “We liked the same media, we bonded over game soundtracks, and we were able to get closer through playing music. We found it as a way to spend time together.”


Tapping notes and finding sheet music online aren’t the activities most friend groups consider, but it’s become an important part of these two’s schedules, as well as their bond.
“This piano helped us connect,” said Botros. “It’s its own shared interest between friends now.”


This rickety, worn-down instrument isn’t exactly what one pictures when thinking about the beauties of student self-expression. Yet it’s been on campus as long as anyone can remember, sparking new passions, bringing people together, and letting students express themselves year after year.


GHC may be crowded, vast, and filled with so many different experiences and people, but there’s always a place for students to find themselves—or others— on an uncushioned bench and in front of yellowed keys.