Follow the Yellow Brick Road...

     The first time I met a college professor, I knew that, not matter what, I would work my entire high school career to be able to attend college. His name was Dr. John Salmon, and he was (and still is) a Jazz professor at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, and I was at UNCG for a high school piano preview day. Every student was able to take a master class with one of the keyboard professors, and to say that I was nervous would be an understatement on par with saying that Liszt was a "so-so" pianist. I walked into a classroom full of people I'd never met before, and Dr. Salmon, without saying a word, sat down at the piano and began playing Beethoven's "Für Elise ". He played it with such artistry and passion, I was enthralled, but in an instant he morphed the Classical Period composition in Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance. At first, I couldn't even believe that I was hearing this song played with the same level of skill and technique, and in the next second he was playing The Beatles' "Can't Buy Me Love" and concluded with Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue". His performance, as well as the way he shared comments and suggestions on our playing, revealed not only a deep level of knowledge and understanding but also an immense passion and interest in his subject. My entire perception of college professors, as old curmudgeons whose greatest joy was in writing a giant red "F" on student's papers, was completely changed. Instead, these extraordinary people are so devoted to their subject that they've chosen to spend their lives studying and researching every facet of a certain area of study in order to share with the next generations. This realization took me from a place of grudging acceptance of the fact that to have any sort of career I would have to attend college, to an excitement to find the perfect school, and begin my path to a PhD.

    I practiced, studied, and worked hard from the start of freshman year, and everything went unbelievably smoothly until that critical step of finding "the perfect school". Half way through my Junior year, I had a meltdown. I was terrified. I didn't think I'd ever be able to find a school where I could feel at home, or enjoy myself. Everywhere I'd looked so far had some fatal flaw, and I was starting to panic when the question, "Where do you plan on going to school?" seemed to come up in every conversation. I first heard about Converse from my piano teacher, an alumna herself. Originally, it was fairly low on my list of possibilities, but as I learned more it started to check of more and more items on my list of wants. Once I had applied and been accepted, I came down for a visit, my piano audition, and the presidential scholarship competition. This was the first time I had the opportunity to hear President Betsy Fleming speak, and it was her speech at the scholarship competition, her commitment to the education of women, and the simple power and presence that she had that made my decision that, if I was accepted into the Petrie School of Music, Converse would be my number one pick.

    The decision to pursue music on a collegiate and professional level is certainly a journey met with plenty of opposition in many different forms. From the struggle to stay motivated while the majority of my peers were out on adventures or simply sleeping while I was practicing, to the constant comment of "You know you won't make any money?", the road was never easy. In a way however, constantly having to defend my choices and devoting so much time and work to my decision, built resolve and commitment that music is what I'm passionate about and that it brings me so much joy. Ultimately, what could be more important.

    If I was Dorothy, along with my faithful dog, I would bring one 7" by 7" sheet of origami paper folded into the lotus flower model. Two years ago a friend of a friend took an origami model to a flea market and traded it for a book. She continued to trade the new item, trying to upgrade the value slightly each time, throughout the day and over the past two years. Sometimes she will trade a few times in a day and other times she'll keep an item for months. At this moment, she has an antique typewriter worth around $250. She has never sold any of the items, only traded. So, I think I would bring a paper lotus. Who knows what I could end up with; the possibilities are endless.