If someone told me four months ago that I’d be completely unsure about my future, I probably wouldn’t have believed them. But, the truth is, I am completely unsure of my future. I am utterly insecure about what lies ahead even a week in advance. Plenty of people live their lives as such, so why can’t I? Well, from the day I was born, my parents had my whole life planned out for me. To the smallest detail, I knew where I was going to live, where I was going to go to school, the career I’d pursue and in a nutshell, who I was going to be. My parents were relentless in making their case; finding every possible story about a prosperous doctor, scientist, lawyer, or engineer. Stressing the idea that financial stability and prestige solely bring success. The problem was, that's all they expressed; the proposition that those who find employment in fields such as math and science are sure to achieve over everyone else because they're the people who are economically secure. That notion of a predetermined future always bothered me, but apparently not the point of becoming a free-spirited wanderer.
I grew up having to hide who I was from my parents. I’d pretend to be the perfect daughter they’d always dreamed me to be, I tried to keep their dreams a reality while holding back my own. For me, there was nothing more exciting than leaving the house. School became my gateway to self-determination. I could be the person I wanted and not assimilate to the image my parents had painted for me. I could tell my friends and teachers about my dreams, I could sketch out my life without the fear of being a disappointment. Undoubtedly, there was a sense of belonging that formed within those classroom walls that couldn’t have been established anywhere else. I had finally found who I was and I wasn’t going to let it go.
My primary socialization happened at school and because of the support and care I received from my teachers, I’ve become the person I am today and am able to succeed due to everything I learned along the road. Now, there was a specific moment in my life when I decided that music education was my passion and it wasn’t a successful moment, instead, my desire to become a teacher came from failure; sophomore year, I flunked an audition and I honestly believed I was the worst musician and that I needed to quit it all together; my band director thought otherwise, he sat me down and gave me the most important talk of my life. That was the day I realized that one major failure can undoubtedly create an extraordinary success.
In the years after that experience, I've been open to chance and à magnitude of failure that can't be measured. There were obviously more bad auditions that, later thankfully led to successful ones. To say that there are moments in life that we can't control is an understatement. The moments we can't control are the moments that shape our character and help us understand what we're capable of. We can never truly be sure if what we're doing is right, but we can give ourselves the chance to explore the opportunities that we have no idea about.
Being an educator gives you the chance to give others the opportunity to learn to be themselves, to open their minds and see the world through a million lenses and have the confidence to learn and tell someone else’s story. What better environment, than in a music ensemble, to build a supportive and creative atmosphere where students can share their personalities through their love for music and performance, conveying both talent and emotion.
Teaching, to me, is an art, rather than an occupation. Teachers are our primary socialization into the world of intellectual curiosity and perspective. They give us the opportunities to be ourselves, to be daring and adventurous. To not be scared of who we are or who we can be. I knew at an early that I valued tenacity, that it was the key to facing what I feared most; uncertainty.
During my sophomore year, I finally told my parents what I planned to do. I gained the confidence to express my ambitions and hoped they’d accept them. That reality was not attainable for my parents, who, after an extreme number of arguments, are reluctant to support many of the aspirations I have as both student and musician. My senior year was probably the hardest year of my life, full of lonely days in my bedroom brainstorming ways to run away or move in with friends. But, I knew none of those ideas were authentic. I couldn’t just run away from the problems that kept me from having what I needed the most; encouragement.
One year ago, I was in the midst of auditioning and applying for colleges across the country. From New Orleans to Boston, I sent in recordings, applications and essays to eight schools in total. It took six months and countless hours in front of a computer screen or in a practice room, preparing the very best for each institution. It meant the world to finally have the opportunity to be recognized by people I didn’t know, by people who didn’t know me. To be able to pursue a dream I had had since the sixth grade, to finally be able find myself amongst communities of musicians, students and adults who were out to explore an unknown.
Everyone learns to face failure at some point in their life and exactly one year ago, I was denied entrance into the music major at the school I so badly wanted to call my home; St. Olaf College. My whole life changed that day. I know, it’s not a big deal, but at the time it was. It was the day everything could’ve gone according to my plan, but instead it didn’t and I was left trying to decide what happened next. My life was in my hands, just as it had before I opened the rejection letter, but what I didn’t realize then, was the impact that letter had on who I was, not only as a person, but as a student, musician and insecure eighteen year old who had grown up without the very thing I valued most; a family.
Striving to find a new path wasn’t easy. I had plenty of schools to pick from, but none of them were as exciting as St. Olaf had been. It was as if everything I had worked for had disappeared. I tried to make the best of a situation, but lacked the drive to maintain the passion I had had just days before. I decided to have faith, and began to believe in the notion that everything happened for a reason and all I had to do was find that reason.
It’s almost 2017, and I’m a first-year student at St. Olaf College. And you’re like “what?” Well, turns out I couldn’t just throw away a dream I had had since the sixth grade. I decided to trust myself and enroll into the small liberal arts college in the middle of the great Minnesota cornfields; a place I can confidently call home now. I’m not a music major yet, and I’m once again left with an understanding of uncertainty. A consistent stream of questions fill my mind and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to fulfill them exactly, but I hope it’s soon. Being insecure isn’t a bad thing, in fact, it’s kind of comforting to know that I don’t know what’s around the corner. It’s a mystery. An obscurity that can’t be resolved right away but one day will be. And if anything, I keep looking forward to the day when I know exactly where I’m going and how I’ll get there, but for now, I’m okay with figuring everything out on my way, regardless of how much I hate not knowing everything.
To do what you love is indescribable– it's a feeling that’s impossible to forget. Ingenuity is a great source of encouragement, opening the realm of discovery to contrasting visions and ideas of those around you. Finding aptitude from the anticipation of both success and failure. Beginning to understand the significance towards innovating the conventional and establishing the extraordinary within your craft, talent and dedication. As long as I have the stories and memories that brought me to the place I am today, I’ll be completely fine. Character means the world to me, because without it, I couldn’t have established my essence of dedication to an enthusiasm that has become my passion. I’ll be a band director one day, I know that for sure, because there’s nothing I can ever dream of doing that has more of an impact than giving back to the experience that made me the person I am today. So yes, it is completely alright to be uncertain every morning you wake up, because regardless of your doubts, there will always be an objective to reach in spite of what the world decides to throw your way.
