Connections and Beginnings

It amazes me how small this world has become.  On Monday, I wrote a bit about my music therapy origin story. Then, I was reminded that my journey towards music therapy actually started much earlier than that fateful day when I was fourteen.

Yesterday, my sixth grade band director found me through a post on a friend's timeline. He stated that he remembered me, and it just amazes me that we've connected after many decades. I am also amazed that he actually called me by name (I don't use my full name on social media - lots of reasons why) with only my social media name as a cue. He has since connected to me and asked the basic questions that people asked - what are you doing these days?

He was the first person to introduce me to the joys of playing instruments. By the time I was in sixth grade, I had been singing in various church choirs for five years. I knew a little bit about reading music, but not lots. I wanted to play either the cornet (Dad had one in the garage) or the flute. I ended up going for the cornet because we had one.

I'm not sure why I didn't start band until sixth grade - I know Mr. C. offered band to fifth graders - but I do remember meeting in the school library for our band rehearsals. I remember our first concert - on the quad, sitting outside in the Southern California sunshine. I did much better in band than I had in flutaphone lessons in third and fourth grades (two different school curricula). For some reason, flutaphone just never took while the cornet did. (If flutaphone didn't take, I guess it is good that I never even started with the flute. The fingerings confuse me even now...)

I think it takes a special kind of passion to teach elementary school students to play instruments. I'm sure that we were not at all musical in our initial concerts - we were focusing on making an appropriate sound rather than actually working together. The weeks and months of squawking, blatting, and squeaking must have paid off for Mr. C. though, because he did it. Year after year.

Mr. C. started me on a path of instrumental music that led me through the rest of my schooling and got me started on my profession. He never questioned why a girl would want to play a brass instrument (many others certainly have over the years -ah, the stories I could tell). He simply helped me figure out how to make my body work with the instrument to make music.

I am forever thankful that my musician mentors were in my life. They all led me to my profession. They put in the stepping stones that I climbed to get to the place I needed to be to get my path in life. 

Mr. C. is one of those people. 

I still play my cornet (occasionally), and I think I will try to do more of that in the next several months. Maybe I'll play through my first cornet book (I'm sure that I have a newer copy of that Alfred Techniques book somewhere...) and do some more reminiscing. You can't go wrong if you play Hot Cross Buns and Ode to Joy every so often.

Who influenced you on your journey to music therapy?