A Note-Worthy Reed -- testing for follow icon......

Music is such a large part of my life and sense of self that without it, I would not really know who I am. Of course, I have other things that make me who I am too, like other interests, personal beliefs and values, and my perceptions and interactions with the world. Music, however, is a part of every aspect of my life. I’m always listening to music, for one. I find music that aligns with my values, alongside the most important music for me being ingrained in church services. I participate in a variety of musical opportunities, whether that be playing organ for church, participating in band and choir at school, teaching piano lessons, or just practicing in a room alone. I send music I love to the people I love. I play and sing music with friends for fun. I sometimes even write a little music (although that is a secret not to be shared yet).

When I am alone in a practice room making progress on a piano piece, all of my worries of the day and or tomorrow seem to vanish. It is just me and the music and a joy of playing. When I am singing in church, I do not feel musically above or below others. I am one with the group and feel joy from it. When I play in a band, I find my voice among the ruckus of everyone trying to find theirs. When I listen to music on the way home, I feel tension leaving my body and I am content with my being.

All of these musical items have become such a part of my daily life that, without it, I would not know where to turn. Yes, I have other hobbies, like weaving and painting, but even then I am listening to music. Even without music playing from Spotify or the next room, the music of daily life cannot be avoided. The beautiful sounds of nature, of joyful chatter, of someone clicking a pen in frustration. Even snow falling seems a type of music. Music is everything, and everything can be described using music. Every indescribable feeling is describable using music. It is a part of every culture in the world and has been for all of human history. It is part of me, yes, but I am not unique in that. It is part of everyone. I am everything I am without it, but muddier. Music gives me a sense of purpose, clears my thoughts, and wraps up all my traits in a nice little bow. Music is me and music is you, too.

The meaning of music has been fairly consistent all of my life. The focus has always been joy. I am filled with joy hearing good music and participating in it. Sometimes, that joy means full blown happiness. Other times, that joy means a break from what else is going on in my life. And occasionally, that joy just means realizing feelings that I would not have resolved otherwise. In any case, music for me brings out every feeling I have and puts in into something not quite describable in words. It is a soul-soother in every sense.

Now, taking almost all music classes, I realize that my personal joy of music doesn’t always translate to school. Joy of music alone doesn’t mean musical progress, performance, or anything else required of music majors. Musical joy doesn’t bring musical knowledge. However, I know that my life of music after school, whether that be in a classroom or at home with children, will be joy-focused, not knowledge or performance focused.

For me, musical knowledge is sometimes a burden. I can’t always play or listen to music without picking apart its flaws. I do want to be a better musician for the rewards it brings; the satisfaction of reaching a goal, the enjoyment of a piece once it is worked through, and the ability to play music at a higher level and continue to improve. However, when I just want to sing for fun or try out new music or listen to music of any kind, it is both a gift and a blessing to know what’s “right” in the music. It is nice to recognize chord progressions and musical ability without much thought, but it isn’t always nice to hear (and not be able to “unhear”) musical flaws. Sometimes I do just want to sing without making everything perfect, or listen without worry for the perceived musicality of the performer. A little knowledge, then, is a dangerous sing… er, thing.

Regardless of these inhibitions, or because of them, the meaning of music has not changed for me in transition. It will always bring me joy and I will always love music. It will always be a center point in my life. I will always be uplifted by music in church, soothed by playing music, and inspired by the musicality of others. The meaning of music to me is more than the quality of music; music alone in its joyful noise is enough for me, and will continue to be enough for me regardless of where I go as a musician.

I have always been involved in music in some way, and always have known it would be a part of my life. Through church, school, music listening, and individual musicianship, music is ingrained in every aspect of my daily life. Music as a career seemed almost toO obvious of a choice. I am interested in many other things, and would have been content in almost any educational area. Thus, I gave many other areas considerable thought.

Any other career would have felt okay, but not perfectly right. The fact that I kept musing about music was telling to me (and others). Even my mom, who is very settled in the STEM field and encouraged all of us kids to get an education, told me that my delusions about other careers having a life-long appeal would wear off as soon as I started college. With that in mind, and considerable thought about what my life would look like without music, I knew that I could not let music fall to the wayside in any way.

Even though I had some doubts about making a career out of my musical interest, I have always seen myself as a teacher. Whether that was an elementary teacher, an English teacher, or a music teacher, I knew that I had a desire to teach. The combination of my teaching wishes and my musical wishes combined until I could not look away from the music education path. Try as I ignore it, I cannot.

I even tried to convince myself that there were already too many music teachers in my family. I felt that I had to pave my own path. However, I already have just by existing as myself. Just because I share a main interest with older siblings and parents does not mean we cannot exist as separate individuals. That was one of my delusions about why I could not teach music.

To aid to my slowly strengthening music teaching aspirations, I was able to lead a youth choir, putting together programs, finding music, and working with the choir to make a joyful noise. This positive experience told me that, “Yes, you can teach music.”

I then started to take piano lessons again, filled with imposter syndrome about how many other students were more advanced and better suited to the musical role. In addition to fellow students being good musicians, I have been surrounded by older, talented musicians in my work with choir projects. I have to remind myself that those 40-somethings and 20-somethings have one thing I can’t possibly have, which is extra years of practice. I had to be reminded myself noT to compare my musicianship with professionals and adults and family members who I have so much to learn from. Even thinking of the last year, I am able to do so many things musically easily that I struggled with a year or two ago.

After realizing this imposter syndrome was rather delusional, as well as being reinforced by those same people I look up to, I finally decided I could not ignore the call of music education. I subscribed to the idea with some ideas of “band-eur”, though I had been forewarned about the trials of music study. I knew it would be a lot of work, but a lot of reward for every minute spent. Thus, the call of music teaching, though somewhat pushed away, was finally answered. I hope it serves me well.