I did not know if or when I would return to making music. I might have stopped entirely if something hadn’t happened in February 2011.
Becoming an Improviser in 36 Measures
I spent an hour with 36 measures of music.... I was not practicing, not repeating a measure or a phrase for perfection, not playing through the whole piece for memorization...
Who’s in a Portrait Gallery?
...I didn’t read about it before visiting with my husband and toddler. I felt slightly nervous, however, about whether the region where I was born and spent my childhood and adolescence would be represented honestly. Would the exhibit do more than celebrate notable art by and about black people?
I was surprised to hear this folk song amidst the pomp of the formal ceremony...
Collaborating to Combat Underrepresentation
“...Underrepresented” described our community of scholars and what I had been feeling as a learner and maker of classical music.
Why I Asked “Are You Okay?”
When I was a full-time professor, a student I knew from my department hurried out of the choir room immediately after singing a musical theater solo about suicide. I did not know why the student left, but I thought, “Someone should go check on him.”
No First Day of School
Whether we are teenagers or grandparents, teachers or students, at home or in temporary shelter, the first day of school is different for many of us this year. I have participated in this annual event since I was in kindergarten, but for Fall 2020, I have no first day of school. I am no longer… Continue reading No First Day of School
Becoming an Abolitionist
Mentor, shepherd, listener, and advocate are identities I readily see in myself. While these roles nurture, empathize with, and speak up for others, the term hero is weightier for me...
Close Encounters of the Heartening Kind
Last week, my interview with Kelsey Timmerman was published on the Dressember blog. I never imagined I would have a one-on-one conversation with a New York Times bestselling author...
Nourishing Beauty on a Cloudy Day
We arrived at The Cafe at Thistle Farms on a cloudy Sunday afternoon in early March. As my family added baby decorations to the space, I paused...