Kids NEED to Know

       The houses seemed to sage, like shoulders when people sigh, or the skin beneath your eyes when you don't get enough sleep. Everything appeared to be coated in a translucent grey film, like the sun was tired, droopy eyed. Some porches were decorated for the holidays, the lights, unlit. The shitty white Chevy I drive, adorned with a giant dent in the side, didn't look out of place. There was a cop car parked outside the church.

       When I stepped inside that church, it was merry. There was a children's choir warming up in the basement, and the faint smell of sugar cookies. The Christmas celebrations were in full swing, and it seemed as if the entire neighborhood was participating.

       Of course, my quartet chose to perform selections from Lady Gaga.

       We played in the church cafeteria while everyone ate cookies and made small talk. Occasionally, a woman in a red sweater would stop us to make an announcement about a craft session, or family portraits in the atrium. We played, for maybe 

about half an hour.

       Like I said, we didn't play Christmas music. Our set list included Scottish tunes, One Republic, and of course, one song remotely pertaining to the holiday season: Cannon in D. It wasn't traditional, or appropriate, really, but it was cool. There's this one part, in a song called “Zombie”, where the key changes, and for like, twenty measures it builds up to this brilliant, BRILLIANT, break through, that, when I play it, makes me feel like a rock god or something. It's probably my favorite thing to play honestly, because it moves me so strongly, like I could rise up and start a rebellion. It's one of those songs.

       As I was drilling into some eighth notes, just as we were approaching the key change, I realized something: the kids watching this, have probably never been exposed to something like this. They've probably never gotten the opportunity to play a stringed instrument, or any instrument, really. They've probably never gotten to feel the way I do, swept up in a key change and some eighth notes. And this performance, just might be, their first exposure to that.

       And that's not based on where they live. It's based on the fact that a lot of the kids there were still in elementary school. In my town, most kids aren't introduced to music until they reach middle school, when they are required to join band, orchestra, or vocal. That's how I was introduced to the viola. I'd never had piano lessons, or even, like, a kazoo to dink around on before I was eleven.

       I've been playing for five years now, and I know that feeling, when the music just washes over you, when you are the music, how it feels like flying, and your favorite dessert, and going down hill on roller coasters. Every time I play, I wish I would have known it sooner.

       I have to wonder: Was there a kid watching us, thinking, 'I want to do that'? Did any of them tell their parents, “Mom, I want to play the violin”, or “Dad, I want to play that really big violin”? Could a few uplifting, nontraditional pieces, have ignited something in some kid in some church in some city that won't give them music sooner?

       I think that it I assumed that none of the kids in that church really cared at all, I may have been right. But, it would be wrong to just assumed that, and never try to expose kids to the wonders of music. Just look at Violins Over Violence in South Carolina, or Music & Youth's 13 music club houses in Massachusetts; if we assume that music is not a need, an immediate need, of the youth in our community, how will they ever know it?

       The truth is, it is an immediate need. Kids need to know music, before it is a required class, before it is forced upon them. So let's get moving and shaking, folks. It's time to make some music.

Spontaneous Caroling

       Pop quiz! Finish this sentence: “The best way to spread Christmas cheer...”

       ...

       That's right class, the correct answer is: “singing loud for all to hear.”

       If you've failed to answer this question correctly, I must inform you, with deep regret, that you are, in fact, a cotton headed ninny muggin. Stop that. Right now. Put on your Santa hat and get in the Christmas spirit.

       One very popular way to do that is to sing carols. Honestly though, I find traditional caroling to be incredibly awkward and annoying. It's nice at first, but then, after approximately 15 seconds, the magic of it all washes away, and you are left with a group of strangers standing at your door, serenading you. I 

hate being serenaded.

       Thankfully though, my Music Meetup team and I at Iowa BIG have found a much better alternative. The method that we have devised allows us to spread twice the cheer, three times the joy, and exactly 72.4% more family fun per tune. After weeks of carefully crafting such an intricate balance of holiday whim and the natural spread of all things jolly, our Frankenstein of a non-awkward-holiday-caroling-extravaganza is finally coming to life this Saturday at 10:30 am.

       That's right, folks.

       Two words:

       Spontaneous. Caroling.

       Instead of roaming door to door, our group of carolers will be casually strolling through a public space, spreading the joy of song to everyone around, and encouraging them to join along. No longer will people be forced to forge a strained smile as carolers dwell on their front steps for what seems like an eternity. Instead, listeners will be able to enjoy a bit of song without all the awkward associated with serenade. People will be free to join in, leave as they please, or simply sit and listen.

       Have we revolutionized caroling? Most likely, yes; but I'm not sure that's what really matters. Caroling is not something I'm particularly passionate about, in fact, I'm not sure I know anyone who is. However, I am very passionate about creating a sense of community, and caroling has proved to be a great means of doing so. Bringing people together to share good feelings and create something positive, is something I'm proud to be a part of. Buddy the Elf said it best: “The best way to spread Christmas cheer, is singing loud for all to hear.”

Buddy the Elf photo 

HOLY BALLS I WAS PUBLISHED

       I. Was. Published.

       For real.

       Last Sunday, I was published, for real. It wasn't for my school's literary magazine. It wasn't a blog post that managed to get more than two views. It was for real, and I still can't believe it happened.

       I'm part of a project based school called Iowa BIG, where I get to do work that is driven by my passions and get school credit for it. BIG doesn't replace my traditional schooling (I actually still take all my required classes at my high school) but it is a two hour chunk of my day that has provided me with more opportunities in one trimester than my regular high school has in years. One of these opportunities, was the chance to write an opinion article about BIG that would be published in our city's newspaper, "The Gazzette".

       When presented with the opportunity, it didn't feel like a big deal. I would be writing five hundred words about my experiences at BIG, and it would be published alongside about seven other mini articles that did the same. It was just five hundred words. How important could it be? The short answer is this:

My five hundred words were very important.

       When I saw the paper Sunday morning, I took a picture of my article and tweeted it, thanking “The Gazzette” and BIG for the opportunity, and within an hour, twenty people had favorited it. My principle emailed me wanting to know more about BIG and congratulating me on my piece. My relatives all wanted a copy of the paper. My teachers praised my piece in school on Monday. One of my teachers at BIG said it nearly brought her to tears. Now, this may sound a bit twisted, but I always love it when my writing makes people cry.

       That's what made me feel accomplished. It wasn't the simple fact that I had been published outside of school; it was the people's reactions to what I wrote. I've never received so much positive feedback. Ever. Especially regarding something I'm truly passionate about. In fact, I'd say BIG and writing are the two things I'm most passionate about, and to have people so excited about both of them...the feeling is indescribable.

       It's always been my dream to have my work published and to have people see it and to make those people feel something. On some level, I've already gotten to do that, and I'm only sixteen. I assumed it would just magically happen when I was twenty something, living it Chicago or New York. I assumed I would just become inspired, and the words would just pour out, and the world, would see it and know it and love it. I assumed that a publisher's approval, acting like the wave of my fairy godmother's wand, would make all my dreams come true.

       But being published didn't matter. It didn't come easy, but that didn't matter either. I'm only a kid, and still, that didn't matter. I wrote, and people read it, and that was all it took. Being published, while it is mildly crucial to the “people reading it” bit, doesn't really matter. You don't have to make it big to make a big impact; the simple act of writing, and sharing your writing, is enough.

Disclaimer

       As I enter my winter term this school year, I've decided to change up my blog a bit. I've already expressed my interests in literature on this blog, but from now on it is going to be more of a main focus. Music will still be relevant here, but this term I'm putting more emphasis on literature and education as well.  

Lazy

      No matter how much you may love something, you will, on occasion, absolutely hate it. For example, I love to write, but I am absolutely hating the fact that I have to squeeze out 300 more words right now. Now I am going to write a really long sentence to help fill my word count but also to achieve my purpose by illustrating that passions don't always produce a satisfactory product. That was not as many words as I had hoped it would be.

      This lack of love, or really, this lack of lust for a passion is pretty common in the musical world as well. Have you ever had to play a sixteenth note run 50 times in a row to nail what would ultimately become a mere five measures of background filler sound? Yeah. Me too. And it sucks! People like the idea of having talent, but don't like to put in the effort required to become talented. Example: me writing this blog post.

      Humans are lazy, and in general, we suck. Yeah I know I'm a jerk, but it's true, right? I see it every single day. High school kids are a splendid example of such laziness, always trying to get out of extra work, leave class early, or avoid a quiz. Why are we so lame? Come on teenagers?! Where is our initiative?! Our drive?! Our passion?!

      I only have to write 64 more words. Better wrap this thing up.

      I love to write, and I love to play music, and I love to read books, and I love to solve equations, but when my “passions” become “assignments”, they loose they're appeal and become tedious bits of paper shoved inside a folder.

 Fourteen more words is no problem for me to write for this fine blog.

How to Properly "Hate" Pop Music

       If you asked me if I like pop music, my answer would be a heck no. I'll say it's trashy and repetitive and unoriginal and that it lacks meaning, and to a certain extent, I'll mean it. But, if I meant it completely that would make me a complete hypocrite, but I don't, which makes me only 4/10ths of a hypocrite and I can live with that. I may not have a whole lot of respect for Jason Derulo as an artist, but when “Wiggle” comes on the radio, you better bet I'll be singing along.

       Hating pop music is kind of a hard thing to do. On one end, pop music really does suck sometimes and your hatred of the genre is completely justified, but on the other end, you can't hate something so basic without being deemed a snobbish hipster who only listens to obscure indy artists that, quite frankly, aren't all that great either. So how do you properly detest such a thing?

       Step One: Don't completely hate it. Pop musicians are artists, too, and probably posses at least a basic understanding of music theory, or so we hope, to validate their position in the musical world. Give them a little bit of credit.

       Step Two: Have an actual passion for music. Hating pop music because it's too “mainstream” is not a good enough reason. One of the most annoying things in the history of forever is when people try to have strong opinions about something that's not really relevant to their life. Hate is a pretty strong word, so if music isn't a serious part of your life, maybe consider a position towards pop music that is along the lines of “strong dislike”.

       Step Three: Don't write off pop music completely. Sure, the mindless spewing of words on topics as advanced as careless partying, substance abuse, and sexual intercourse, does in fact offers no sense of class to our generations musical culture. But, alas, pop music is still a very large part of our culture. Katy Perry may not be a musical genius, but she certainly defines pop culture today, and such a defining figure cannot be written off so carelessly. While I primarily dislike the musical stylings of Miss Perry, I will keep an open mind about her music.

       It's really hard to hate something without coming off as a real jerk, especially something that is so widely loved. The key to true loath, however, is to keep an open mind. The spectrum of human emotion is not black and white, but hate, is a very black word. Instead of trying to jump into a pool of thought that is completely white or completely black, try dipping your toes in the grey area. Hatred is charcoal grey, but ignorance is entirely black, and as they say, “once you go black, you can't go back”. So please, hate pop music-hate it with all your might-but do it with a bit of greyscale-esque class.

Photos found here and here.

Condemning Individuality

       In a musical ensemble, players make subtle adjustments in order to blend with the group. Most of the time, it’s a subconscious decision. Without even knowing it, a string player will shift the position of their finger by a point seventh of a degree to achieve the perfect tone. Sometimes though, the shift is intentional. We may change the direction of our bow to match the principle, or extend a rest when we’ve gotten too far ahead. Either way, musicians are the greatest conformists while remaining the greatest individuals.

       Subtle adjustments may seem like no big deal, and it may seem like an exaggeration to call musicians “conformists”, but we change to fit the mold. And get this: it’s not a bad thing. The tiny changes players make, whether they think about them or not, help improve the piece. If a violinist decides not to move their finger by that point seventh of a degree, claiming they are “unique” or an “artist”, they could end up a half step sharp three measures later, compromising the sound of the entire ensemble. Music is a great form of individual expression when you play solo, or maybe in a quartet, but in a large ensemble, you must conform.

       You may be appalled by my condemnation of individuality, but that would make you a hypocrite. I guarantee, even if you are not a musician, that you make subtle adjustments in order to blend. Do you talk in a different voice when you order food at a restaurant? Do you choose your words differently when you talk to your parents than when you talk to your friends? Do you ever refrain from raising your hand in class or speaking up in discussion? Sometimes we say tiny changes like these are just a different side of us, a polite façade. And it is. We can’t all be individuals all the time. A) We’d all be overwhelmed and B) we’d all be exhausted. There is a large part of us that is dying to stand out, but there is also a smaller, lesser known part that craves uniformity.

       So, I beg of you, please conform. And yet, I still beg you to remain an individual. Nail that accent! Milk that crescendo! Play out that melodic line! But, please, listen for intonation, play piano when necessary, and don't play on a rest. In music, and in life, there is always a balance, whether it be among instruments or among people. Be an individual, yes, but listen to the world around you. The first violinist may carry the melody for nearly the entire tune, but she is not an orchestra, and even a star like herself must know how to blend.