Give a Kid a Break

Last night I attended a board meeting on which I serve to help support the symphony orchestra at my alma mater.  Although I am a pianist, I grew up playing in a local youth symphony where I learned the joy of making music from within a large ensemble.   Once in college, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to continue this activity.  The music director of the orchestra programmed music that ensured me the opportunity to play piano or celesta in almost every concert.  With this group, I traveled to Berlin to compete in an international festival, an event that turned out to be one of the highlights of my college experience.  It also forged close relationships that remain to this day.

I was a “starving student” in college.  I worked multiple jobs during my entire four years—dining hall food slinger, music library catalog assistant, emergency room graveyard shift grunt, babysitter for my professor’s kid—just to make ends meet.  The student loans I took out covered my term bills, but left me nothing for books, piano lessons, James Bond Festivals at the Science Center, or the occasional pizza at Pinocchio’s.  When the orchestra needed a pianist to play the featured parts in Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring for the Berlin program, I was unable to produce the several hundred dollars each orchestra member was asked to contribute to the trip.  The board stepped in and subsidized my trip.  It is this same organization that I now serve, unable to feel as if I can ever repay this debt.

Student-run organizations, like other charitable causes, never have enough resources.  Fund-raising is a tough business, but especially in today's economy.  In a time when we all are tightening our belts, it is hard to argue that supporting a symphony orchestra at a well-endowed university should be a priority.  But what appears to be just another musical group opened a lot of doors for a lot of people.  For me, this college orchestra gave me opportunities beyond music making.  As its Concert Manager for two years, I produced eight concerts and coordinated two annual concerto competitions.  This built tangible management credentials that were instrumental in helping me take my next professional step outside of the world of music.  

Surprisingly, we have more difficulty raising engaged volunteers than money.  It should not be this hard.  Our culture depends upon those with experience shepherding the newbies.  Of course we do this through financial support, but also through oral traditions, mentoring, coaching, advising, and hands-on involvement.  These are the catalysts that inspire the next generation to take what we have done in our lifetimes a quantum step farther.  Without the continuity from those who came before, each generation would start from scratch.  I am not suggesting that each reader run out and donate to a symphony orchestra (although it would be nice if you did!)  Rather, I want to encourage you to think about the things that were important to you as you made your way in the world.  What opportunities opened the right doors?  What events were turning points in your life?  What involvements or activities defined who you are today?  What inspired you to take risks?  It may be music making.  Or working in a lab.  Or acting in a play.  Or interning with a government official.  Or having a summer job. Or traveling.  Or attending a certain school.  How can you extend that conversation or connection to the next generation?

Get involved.  Be the trajectory, not the endpoint.

Tomorrow's blog:  Salad Days