Still Learn and Grow

The busiest day I have had as a musician through the whole year has been Solo/Ensemble Festival: a full day of students singing and playing pieces of music prepared for a judge and possibly a small audience. I participated in eight events, overall learning 13 pieces of music. I had five acts as a vocalist, four collaborative pianists, three acts as a violinist, two lovely directors, and a partridge in pear tree–it was overwhelmingly awesome and beautifully exhausting. As my day at Solo/Ensemble was about halfway over, all was well until I came across something that not only didn't amuse me but also broke my heart . I ran into a student from a different school whom I had known from various other music events; the only thing–after years of "only" perfect ballots–this student was concerned with was getting a "Best of Center" rating for their solo (an honor distinguished to only one act during the day by the judge–this student hadn't achieved this yet). Thi...

Before I get into the specifics, there is something I want to clarify: I despise asking for help. There are three possible reasons for this: 1. There have been many times when the help is ineffective because I usually can't follow the process of what the teacher is talking about, and as a result, I get more confused. 2. As a child, I felt patronized when being given help. 3. I'm generally anxious about being an inconvenience to someone else, even if the person I'd be asking is a teacher. Generally, for most of the time I've been in high school, I almost never lost in the process of anything. If I got off course, usually the first explanation would get me sailing again. Math was definitely an area I didn't find too much trouble in until...*sigh*...vectors... (one thing to know for sure: 3 ...'s = 👎) Almost every day for this previous unit, I went to the teacher's desk during our work time in a panic. I felt super self conscious because I usually ...

The 89th Annual Academy Awards had a theme of inspiration. Between various categories, different actors/actresses would describe an onscreen portrayal that inspired them, and that actor would present with the actor that inspired them. I'm not a professional actress (or really a professional anything), but for this post, I would like to discuss a portrayal that I long to have express my gratitude for just as Javier Bardem did for Meryl Streep. Though this portrayal was a TV movie with no Oscar nominations, I had the video cassette, so I still count it as a motion picture, and I still find the same kind of "Oscar inspiration" nonetheless 😊. With my senses being (for lack of a better term) overwhelmed in the most delicate situations as a kid (due to my special needs ), I admired movies with the most tangible satisfaction. In the 1999 TV movie version of Annie, there were many details big and small that my 3-year-old brain would be emotionally satisfied by: the brushes...

Yes, it's true. For the last seven days and continuing through the season of lent, I've disciplined myself to eat breakfast every morning, to lessen snacking, and to give up the following: pastries, cookies, cakes, chocolate/candy, sugary beverages (soft drinks, chocolate milk, Gatorade-type things), ice cream...just all "sweets". Why? I'm acquiescent to terrible eating habits. Many of the calories I make up in my day (from either skipping breakfast or just having a pastry for breakfast) are from snacking on sweets. A regular snack for me–no joke–a fist full of chocolate chips washed down with a glass of milk. "Moderation" is not a much of a word in my vocabulary, so this would happen most days, if not, it eventually turned to having a bunch of cookies or some sort of desert for multiple snacks. I had told my parents the previous night that I was becoming unpleasantly moody in school. I had come to realize that during this week of Valentine'...

Sorry, I'm a little late in posting; February's getting messy, timewise. I just wanted to leave a few needed words of encouragement this week, as much for you as for me. It's not a bit fun feeling powerless. I get that. If you are feeling powerless because there are so many big things that are out of control, focus on what you do have. There are things that only you have been called to do around you all of the time . Your family, your job, your friends–all of those are vocations to you to help make the world better. If you have used your time to make the community around you walk a little bit lighter, you've already made more of a difference in the world than you think. If you feel compelled to help a stranger (even if it's just opening the door), go for it! You know and understand what's good in this world: lifting each other up when we feel down.  You can do it; spread that beauty that you possess.

I am on "the spectrum". I had an Individualized Education Plan for a while before my family and I decided it wasn't doing much for me anymore, as I am able to function now without assistance. When I tell people about it, their responses are usually–in a very loving way– "Oh. That actually makes so much sense" if they've known me since childhood/it's no surprise, or "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I had no idea" as if it was a burden to me at all. To those of the latter, really, it's not like I have a terminal health condition. It's something that I've lived and am still living with. Just because my brain works a little differently doesn't mean I can't still learn and grow (haha) like everyone else. It took me a long time before I could accept myself. Continually, I've learned to live with what I ultimately can't do which, in reality, is very little compared to what I can do. One thing that disgusts me in m...

I was in the Charleston are of South Carolina on vacation for a week in June of 2015. One day, we wanted to see the French Quarter but got lost while trying to park somewhere. As we started our multi-mile walk in 100ºF weather, we came across a big beautiful church. In front of it was a large black gate with cards and big bouquets of flowers in front of it. They said things like "We will miss you." and "You will not be forgotten." I quickly realized that I was there, at Mother Emmanuel AMC, where the shootings had taken less than a week previously. On my right, I saw a woman walking out of the church, clutching a handkerchief to her eyes with one hand while the other grasped to a man's hand next to her with his head low. To my left, a group of people stood in a crowd on that street. They had a continuous passionate chant: "United we stand, divided we fall." What was shocking was that in this moment, this wasn't a news story, a dramatic inter...