I was walking down the hall at church around the end of 8th grade when the church custodian called to me, “National Junior Honor Society! Nice Job!” “How’d you know?” I asked. “Let’s just say you have a proud momma.” Later in high school when I had gotten really into music, I’d go to a friend’s house and his mom would say, “Congratulations! I saw on Facebook you made All-State Choir!” Things like this happened all the time. Everyone seemed to know every accomplishment within minutes of it happening. At first it was annoying. These things seemed like my things to tell. Or maybe to not tell at all. But every time I won an award or performed somewhere or got into some musical group, the pride I saw flow down Mom’s face in the form of happy tears made it hard to be mad at her. She had the best of intentions. She was proud of me. Once I realized how proud and genuinely happy she was about my successes, it made me proud of myself. Frankly, it made me start to believe that I could do anything I set my mind to. She became a single mom when my twin brother and I were six. She struggled to pay for things and to keep the house we had lived in since birth. She took on extra jobs when she had to, which was often. But when I asked to take drum lessons, she didn’t bat an eye. She found a way to pay for them, and for guitar lessons and voice lessons eventually, too. The skills I gained in these lessons, coupled with Mom's constant praise, gave me immense confidence. I was never afraid to try out for things I wanted to do, and I almost always reached my goals. Mom convinced me and better yet, equipped me, to everything that occurred to my starry-eyed brain. Even to this day, when she finishes each day as a middle school English teacher, most days she has extra jobs tutoring, babysitting, or cleaning other people's houses. She still does these things to help me pay for my college tuition, trying to make sure I have to take on as few loans as possible. I've watched her do this since 8th grade. That's the year I asked her if I could take drum lessons. She couldn't afford it. Not even close. But she wasn't about to turn me down. She could see how important it was to me, so she started looking for extra income and really working hard! In her honor, when I finish college, I would like to start a program that offers free music lessons to children from low-income or single-parent families. I know a lot of musicians would donate their time. Some high school musicians even need service hours for organizations such as National Honor Society, so I think it's possible to find instructors who would help, even if it's just me. Right now, the only thing I can do to show my gratitude to my mom is to utter "thank you" and do the best I can in school. But someday, I want to make her proud by doing good in her name, and relieving the stress from other moms that she has endured for me for years.

I wasn’t introduced to music any differently than a baby is introduced to its parents. I was just born and music was there. My dad was an insurance agent who’d have preferred to be a rock star, and my mom was a lover of 80s rock. I watched KISS concert DVDs while my contemporaries watched The Wiggles. I knew the lyrics to “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by age two. The appropriateness of that could probably be debated, but that’s how it was. At my house, there was Mom, Dad, my twin brother, and music. Except one day, there wasn’t Dad anymore. When I was seven, he just left. Mom said I cried myself to sleep for a year. Truth be told, Mom probably did, too. Our house was a depression zone around then. I think that’s why for Christmas that year, though I don’t know how she afforded it, Mom got us iPad minis. I think she thought they’d buy her some peace and quiet once in a while, to grieve in solitude. We were supposed to leave them charging in the kitchen at night, but after Mom was asleep, I’d sneak in and get mine. That’s when I discovered YouTube, and consequently, my OWN music. Not the music of my parents’ youth that I was raised on. I found Imagine Dragons, The Strokes, Twenty-One Pilots and some Nirvana that I couldn’t believe my parents had never told me about! I wasn’t aware until a few years ago that my mom knew what I was doing. She said she heard me singing “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons while I was supposed to be asleep and came in to find me hiding under the covers with my iPad. She decided the sound of singing was so much better than the sound of me crying myself to sleep, that she just let it go. After I learned the lyrics, I began noticing guitar riffs, then drum fills, then bass lines. It was like getting to know the hottest girl in school and she actually turned out to be gorgeous on the inside, too. Soon I was asking to take drum lessons, which Mom worked extra hours to pay for because she could tell how important it was to me. I learned drums quickly, so after a year, I switched to guitar, and then a year later, I started voice lessons. Before then I wasn’t good at anything. I lived in the shadow of my twin. He was a natural-born actor and was the lead in every school play. He was the star pitcher on his baseball team, and on our basketball team, he often scored the most points. I was the dead weight, the benchwarmer. But when I found music (for myself) I thrived. It was my thing. That’s how music, which was part of my life since it was printed on my crib sheets, went from being something that was handed-down to me like an old sweatshirt I didn’t get to choose to an amazing discovery that cured my cancerous depression and low self-esteem. Music has become what inspires and motivates me, calms and energizes me. It makes me feel powerful but so often humbles me. I’m currently majoring in commercial music at Belmont University because I hope someday music will feed and clothe me, since for the life of me, I can’t think of anything else I could stand to do every day for life. I don’t know what my life would be like if I didn’t discover music. Luckily, it doesn’t matter, because I did.

I was walking down the hall at church around the end of 8th grade when the church custodian called to me, “National Junior Honor Society! Nice Job!” “How’d you know?” I asked. “Let’s just say you have a proud momma.” Later in high school when I had gotten really into music, I’d go to a friend’s house and his mom would say, “Congratulations! I saw on Facebook you made All-State Choir!” Things like this happened all the time. Everyone seemed to know every accomplishment within minutes of it happening. At first it was annoying. These things seemed like my things to tell. Or maybe to not tell at all. But every time I won an award or performed somewhere or got into some musical group, the pride I saw flow down Mom’s face in the form of happy tears made it hard to be mad at her. She had the best of intentions. She was proud of me. Once I realized how proud and genuinely happy she was about my successes, it made me proud of myself. Frankly, it made me start to believe that I could do anything I set my mind to. She became a single mom when my twin brother and I were six. She struggled to pay for things and to keep the house we had lived in since birth. She took on extra jobs when she had to. But when I asked to take drum lessons, she didn’t bat an eye. She found a way to pay for them, and for guitar lessons and voice lessons eventually, too. When it came time to pay for church camp in the summer, she went as a counselor herself to make our tuition half-price, because it was the only way she could afford it and to her, our spiritual development wasn’t a place to cut corners. My entire life, when things aren’t going well, Mom says, “Let’s pray about it,” and takes my hands and prays with me. I have never doubted that my mom loved me, or that God does. Those are things she reminds me of constantly, and knowing I am loved by God and Mom has given me the courage to try anything I’ve ever wanted to do. When you try enough things enough times, eventually you have some successes, so in a way, Mom is sort of the root of my success. Mom isn’t a perfect person, but she has always done her best to model the behavior she hopes to see in me and my brother. Recently it became apparent that most of the decisions she makes are based on what’s best for us. She has sacrificed a lot of time and money to make things better for us and as far as I can tell, time and money are the two things she has the least of to spare. So if the question is “How has your mom helped you become the person you are today?” I’d say she has made me more confident and has taught me to follow Christ. But I think another important question is, “How has she inspired the person that you hope to someday become?” because if I become a dad someday, I hope that I have enough love for my kids and enough pride in their accomplishments that tears run down my cheeks and I brag to the whole world to the point that they are utterly embarrassed. And I hope I remember to take their hands in stressful times and say, “Let’s pray about it.” Then I’ll know I’m a great parent, like my mom.

I was six when my dad moved out. I cried myself to sleep every night for what felt like years, but I know for sure was at least a few months. For Christmas I got an iPad mini. I have no idea how Mom afforded that thing, but I’m glad she found a way because I think it saved my life. That’s when I started listening to music in bed at night instead of crying. Listening to music on that iPad gave me something different to think about when I was drifting off to sleep. Every song sparked a different feeling in me. If I didn’t like that feeling, I could skip to the next one. The more I listened, the more I noticed the intricacies of the songs: the bass line, the drum fills, the harmonies… who were these people coming up with this stuff? Could I do it? In 8th grade, I met Luke. The first time I went to his house, I was amazed by this room he had upstairs. There was a guitar, a drum kit, and an electronic keyboard. His dad owned a small record label, so there was some recording equipment with all the fancy switches and dials. He let Luke use it, so Luke would record himself playing songs he had written, and he played me some. It was so cool how he could have an idea for a song and then, right there in that room, turn it into a digital recording that he could post online and share with the world. Luke always let me experiment with his instruments and equipment to try to make songs of my own. I had just joined choir that year, but playing instruments was new to me. Luke’s brother showed me some things on the drums and I learned pretty fast. When Mom came to pick me up one day, she heard me playing and decided I should take drum lessons. She signed me up, even though as a single mom, she really couldn't afford it. She just knew it was something I needed to do. After a year of drumming, I wanted to learn guitar, so she let me take guitar lessons instead. Now I’m working on piano, which has been the hardest instrument yet for me to master. I stayed in choir throughout high school and made the Texas All-State Choir two years in a row. Now I’m a freshman Vocal Music major at Belmont University. Someday I hope to make a living making music. I don’t really expect that it will ever make me rich, and that's okay. Soon after I started taking drum lessons, my mom started tutoring kids at their houses and babysitting on weekends. It took me a while to put it all together, but she was working her tail off to give me what I needed. Lower income parents shouldn’t have to do that. It’s hard enough working full-time and supporting kids alone. Working even more to give them what comes easily to other people doesn’t seem fair. So, someday I plan to start an after-school program so kids can get free music lessons. Instruments can be donated, and musicians will donate their time. When I was in high school, I needed service hours for National Honor Society. I know I’d have been happy to get those hours by teaching music to kids, so I think finding volunteers won’t be too hard. This scholarship will not only help me reach my musical goals but help me make it easier for other kids to reach theirs, too.

“Thunder only happens when it’s rainin’. Players only love you when they’re playin’.” Those lyrics have been stuck in my head since the womb. And it’s not Stevie Nicks’s voice that I hear, but my mom’s. She sang Fleetwood Mac songs around the house all the time. Seventies music always played in our car. My friends got to listen to Radio Disney, but not me. “Hotel California” was almost the same length of time that it took to get to church so we listened to it every Sunday. Frankly I’m not sure that really set the proper tone for church, but I’m not complaining. It wasn’t just coming from Mom. When I was six, Dad started a Journey tribute band. Every weekend I spent at his house, I heard his band rehearse with their Steve Perry sound-alike until I knew every lyric in Journey’s catalog. If I were raised on Radio Disney, I doubt I’d have developed the keen sense of musical discernment that I pride myself on today. While my friends listened to whatever cacophony of screamy gangster noise was popular that week, I was blasting the operatic/glam rock fusion of Queen. By the time I got the solo in the 8th grade choir pop show’s rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” I didn’t need to practice. I had been preparing for that moment since birth. After that solo, I decided performing was my destiny. I started taking drum lessons. A year later, guitar lessons, and a couple years after that, voice. I made All-State choir two years in a row. I was the drummer for the show choir for a couple years. The music that my parents forced on me had become my lifeblood, my inspiration. The only thing I can see myself doing for the rest of my life is making, performing, sharing, and teaching music. Now I’m a commercial music major at Belmont University. I won’t lie: having a career like Freddie Mercury’s is my dream, but I know enough about the world to know that the recipe for getting there is equal parts luck and talent. Luck can’t be counted on and talent is subjective, so while I’m working toward it, I’m not counting on it. I have another dream, though, that I know is attainable. It’s less about luck and more about dedication, which I definitely have. When I started asking my mom for drum, guitar, and voice lessons, she never said she couldn’t afford it. She just signed me up. But trust me, she couldn’t afford it. Soon after I started taking lessons, she started tutoring kids after school at their houses and babysitting on weekends. It took me a while to put it all together, but she was working her tail off to give me what she knew I needed. Lower income parents shouldn’t have to do that. It’s hard enough working full-time and trying to support kids alone. Having to work even more to give them what comes easily to other people doesn’t seem fair. So, I plan to start an after-school program so kids can get free music lessons. Instruments can be donated, and musicians will donate their time. When I was in high school, I needed service hours for National Honor Society and I know I’d have been happy to get those hours by teaching drum or guitar to kids, so I think finding volunteers won’t be too hard. This scholarship will contribute to my music degree and set me up to not only reach my musical goals, but to help me make it easier for kids to reach theirs, too.

When I was six, my dad moved out of our house. I cried myself to sleep every night for months. That Christmas I got an iPad mini. I can’t imagine for the life of me how Mom afforded that thing, but I’m glad she found a way because I think it saved my life. That’s when I started listening to music in bed at night instead of crying. Listening to music on that iPad gave me something different to think about when I was drifting off to sleep. Every song sparked a different feeling in me. If I didn’t like that feeling, I could skip to the next one. The more I listened, the more I noticed the intricacies of the songs: the bass line, the drum fills, the harmonies… who were these people coming up with this stuff? Could I do it? In 8th grade, I met Luke. The first time I went to his house, I was amazed by this room he had upstairs. His older brother was a drummer, so there was a drum set up there. Luke had a guitar and an electronic keyboard, too. His dad owned a small record label, so there was a lot of recording equipment with all the fancy switches and dials. He let Luke use it, so Luke would record himself playing songs he had written and he played some for me. I thought it was so cool how he could have an idea for a song and then, right there in that room, turn it into a digital recording that he could post online and share with the world. Luke always let me be part of songs he was working on and experiment with his instruments and equipment to try to make my own. I had just joined choir that year, but playing instruments was new to me. Luke’s brother showed me some things on the drums and I picked it up pretty fast. When my mom came to pick me up one day, she heard me playing and decided I should take drum lessons so she signed me up, even though as a single mom, she really couldn't afford it. She just knew it was something I needed to do. She got a job tutoring some kids after school to pay for my lessons. After a year, I wanted to learn guitar, so she let me take guitar lessons instead. Now I’m trying to learn piano, which has been the hardest instrument yet for me to master, but I’m determined. I stayed in choir throughout high school and made the Texas All-State Choir two years in a row. Now I’m a freshman Commercial Music major at Belmont University with an emphasis in vocal music. Someday I hope to make a living making music. It’s the only thing I can imagine doing for my entire life that would truly make me excited about getting out of bed every morning. When I graduate, I’d like to start a program that gives kids free music lessons. I know a lot of high school age musicians that need service hours for honor society or other leadership organizations, and some musicians that just would be willing to pay it forward. My mom shouldn’t have had to work extra hours to pay for my lessons; she was overworked as it was. If I can get these people partnered up with kids like I was who want to learn to play music but come from lower income families, I will honor the sacrifice my mom made and make the future better for families like ours.

When I was six, my dad moved out of our house. I cried myself to sleep every night for what felt like years but I know for sure was at least a few months. For Christmas I got an iPad mini and I can’t imagine for the life of me how Mom even afforded that thing, but I’m glad she found a way because I think it saved my life. That’s when I started listening to music in bed at night instead of crying. Well, usually I didn’t cry, but I do distinctly remember this one song by Twenty-One Pilots when I was 11 or 12 that made me cry for some reason and I’ve never admitted that to anyone until now. Listening to music on that iPad gave me something different to think about when I was drifting off to sleep. Every song sparked a different feeling in me. If I didn’t like that feeling, I could skip to the next one. The more I listened, the more I noticed the intricacies of the songs: the bass line, the drum fills, the harmonies… who were these people coming up with this stuff? Could I do it? In 8th grade, I met Luke. The first time I went to his house, I was amazed by this room he had upstairs. His older brother was a drummer, so there was a drum set up there. Luke had a guitar and an electronic keyboard, too. His dad owned a small record label, so there was a lot of recording equipment with all the fancy switches and dials. He let Luke use it, so Luke would record himself playing songs he had written and he played some for me. I thought it was so cool how he could have an idea for a song and then, right there in that room, turn it into a digital recording that he could post online and share with the world. Luke always let me be part of songs he was working on and let me experiment with his instruments and equipment to try to make my own. I had just joined choir that year, but playing instruments was totally new to me. Luke and his brother showed me some things on the drums and I picked it up pretty fast. When my mom came to pick me up one day, she heard me playing and decided I should be taking drum lessons so she signed me up, even though as a single mom, she really couldn't afford to pay for it. She just knew it was something I needed to do. After a year of drum lessons, I wanted to learn guitar, so she let me take guitar lessons instead. Now I’m trying to learn piano, which has been the hardest instrument yet for me to master, but I’m determined. I stayed in choir throughout high school and made the Texas All-State Choir two years in a row. Now I’m a freshman Commercial Music major at Belmont University with an emphasis in vocal music. Someday I hope to make a living making music. I don’t really expect that it will ever make me rich, although it would be nice. What would be even better is if someday I create something that some kid hears when he’s lying in bed at night, crying himself to sleep for one reason or the other, and that when he hears my song, on whatever the latest technology happens to be, that he finds a reason to stop crying, and maybe finds his passion at the same time, like I did.

When I live a full day content with what surrounds me, having paid my bills with music my soul conceived, and when others can make their soul's music saying "Brennan Cooper taught me that," I will cease to fear the future because my dream will be absolute.

My Uncle David, asked me to perform in a band for a church conference. I listened to the songs a couple times and they sounded easy. I didn't need to practice. My drum kit was still dismantled from a recent gig. Besides, I regretted saying I’d do this. The conference was an hour away and Christian music wasn’t my favorite. I was late for the rehearsal two weeks before the conference because I had to work. When I showed up, the other guys had to help me assemble my drums. They looked annoyed. My playing was a train wreck. I should’ve practiced. I was often praised for my drumming but no one said anything to me after rehearsal except David. “Do you think you’ll have time in the next two weeks to work on it?” “Yeah.” I said. “I will for sure.” I put my kit together and practiced one time. I intended to do more, but I slacked. I figured once was enough to polish up the train wreck. When the event occured, my train was still derailing in an embarrassing fashion. My lack of integrity was on full display. David asked me because he knew I had talent. But I didn’t have the integrity to follow through. If I wasn’t going to put forth my best effort, I should’ve declined and let David find another drummer. But I accepted, and because I thought too highly of myself, I let people down. I apologized and told David I learned my lesson but that I didn’t blame him for being mad. The following year he asked me to drum again. That’s because David has honor. He trusted I had changed and extended enough grace to give me another chance. It would’ve devastated him if I’d messed up again. But that didn’t happen. I owed it to David to do it right if he was going to honor me with this privilege. Some traits we are born with. Others, life teaches us. I’m grateful that honor and integrity found their way into the fabric of my character, even the hard way.

I am a senior at an extremely large high school. In the senior class alone, there are about 1,800 students. The town itself isn’t particularly large, but they have a “one high school” mentality and refuse to build a second one, so one really large high school in an average-sized town is my situation. A couple of the extra-curricular organizations I have participated in throughout high school require me to do community service hours and I think everyone would agree this is a good thing. Teaching students the value of serving their community is important. I have learned a lot from it and have had several meaningful and rewarding experiences. However, with such a large number of students looking for ways to volunteer in such a small town, it can get difficult to find places to serve that others haven’t already found. The local food pantry has already been stocked and organized, the animal shelter’s cages have already been cleaned, and somebody has already volunteered to play bingo at the nursing home by the time I get there to offer. I guess this is a classic case of a “good problem to have.” Nevertheless, when you need 60 service hours this semester and so does everyone else, it’s still a problem. Another problem that my life’s circumstances have made me aware of is the high cost of music lessons. Since I became interested in playing the drums in 8th grade, and shortly after that the guitar, and then voice, my single mom has sacrificed a lot to pay about $300 a month for my music lessons. That might not be a stretch for some families, but for mine it was, and for some, I bet it’s not even a possibility. An idea that I’ve been rolling around in my head for a while would solve both of these problems. Many of the students in the National Honor Society and the Peer Assisted Leadership organization that I’m a part of are quite musically gifted. If they could give free music lessons to kids whose parents were unable to afford conventional lessons, they could get service hours and kids who otherwise would not be able to get music lessons would learn to sing or play instruments. That’s a win-win situation! I would need to find a place for the lessons to happen. I have considered the city recreation center or churches, and also apartment complex leasing offices, as often students who can’t afford lessons do live in apartments. I also might need some instruments to be donated, at least for use in the lessons, so I might have to do a big donation drive of some sort or publicize the need for used instrument donations, because a student who can’t afford lessons can also likely not afford an instrument. Admittedly, there are some kinks to work out, but I know it’s a good and doable idea, and someday I will make it happen. Not only is it a great way to solve two problems, but it will also honor my mother and the sacrifices she made for several years to make me a good musician.

By the sound of it, Vanessa is a hard name to live up to. When I was ten, I assure you I wasn’t even coming close. Unlike Vanessa, I wasn’t excelling at anything yet. My twin brother was, though. He seemed born to play every sport he ever tried. I stunk at all of them. The only thing I was known for was being the chunky kid who occasionally cracked a good joke. By some miracle, the summer between 7th and 8th grade, I managed to drop a few pounds and that helped my self-esteem a little. Then, that next school year, in 8th grade, I met Luke. I know this sounds crazy but his house on Comanche Lane is where I found my inner Vanessa. The first time I went to Luke’s, I was amazed by this room he had upstairs. His older brother was a drummer, so there was a drum set up there. Luke had a guitar and an electronic keyboard, too. His dad owned a small record label, so there was a lot of recording equipment with all the fancy switches and dials. He let Luke use it, so Luke would record himself playing songs he had written and he played some for me. I thought it was so cool how he could have an idea for a song and then, right there in that room, turn it into a digital recording that he could post online and share with the world. Luke always let me be part of songs he was working on and let me experiment with his instruments and equipment to try to make my own. I had just joined choir that year, but that’s really all I knew about music. Luke and his brother showed me some things on the drum kit and I picked it up pretty fast. When my mom came to pick me up one day, she heard me playing and decided I should be taking drum lessons so she signed me up, even though as a single mom, she really couldn't afford to pay for it. She just knew it was something I needed to do. After a year of drum lessons, I wanted to learn guitar, so she let me take guitar lessons instead. Now I’m trying to learn piano, which has been the hardest instrument yet for me to master, but I’m determined to do it. I’ve stayed in choir throughout high school and have made the Texas All-State Choir the last two years in a row. So musically speaking, I’d like to think of myself as a bit of a Vanessa. This fall, I’m going to Belmont University to major in Commercial Music. I want to make music my career because it’s the only thing I’ve ever felt really good at. I know that making a living in that industry isn’t easy, so I plan to get a teaching certificate as well so that I can be a high school choir director someday. I hope that will give me an opportunity to help kids find talents and passions that they didn’t know they possessed, because sometimes you just need a “Luke” to help you find your inner “Vanessa.” Finally, I know that my mom sacrificed a lot to pay for my drum, guitar, and voice lessons. When I am able, I am going to pay it forward by offering free music lessons to kids whose parents can’t afford to pay for them, because I think the best way to show your gratitude for a blessing you’ve been given, is to pass it on.

Music has intensified every emotion I’ve ever had. It’s made my happiness happier and my sadness sadder. It’s made my confusion even more perplexing and my fear even more terrifying. That’s why it’s used in movies; it increases our emotional investment in the story. The fact that it has this power has also given it power over me. I am totally enamored. My passion in life is the pursuit to create music myself- to be the driving force behind the gift that a song can bring to those who hear it. But it’s not easy; at least not for me. To arrange eight notes in ways in which it has never been done before is no easy task. Or maybe it is easy for some people, but it hasn’t come easy for me. I’ve written a few songs and they’re not bad, but they’re probably not contenders for the score of the next Spielberg movie. That’s the great thing about this magic combination of youth and determination I’ve got going for me. I’ve got time to learn, and I’ve got the will, and I have no choice but to obey the force inside me that’s been telling me that this is what I’m supposed to do. Since 4th grade, I’ve been in classes with the gifted and talented kids. Many of them talk about the expectations their parents place on them to major in pre-med or law because of their extraordinary intellect and the guarantee of a nice living wage. But many of these kids are following their parents’ advice at the expense of their own dreams. This is a tragedy. While I know that in order to live like a king while working in the music industry takes a stroke of luck, I also know that a life devoted to what you love is a life well-spent, and a life spent doing what doesn’t bring you joy is, obviously, no fun at all. When I wanted to learn to play the drums and sing at the same time, I buckled down and did it. When I wanted to make the Texas All-State Choir, I practiced my music and my sightreading and I got a voice teacher and worked like crazy and I did it, two years in a row. When I wanted to learn to play the guitar, I did that, too. This time, we’re talking about my life. My livelihood. I can’t let the fact that I’m not a musical savant stop me from having the life I want. If I’ve learned anything the last couple of years, it’s that hard work put in over time pays off. So far on my musical journey, I’ve cost my mom a lot of money in lessons. First guitar, then drum, then voice. If she had all that money back, I probably wouldn’t even need to apply for scholarships! It was a sacrifice for her and it wasn’t easy but she made it work. I know that not every family has that luxury. So when I have the opportunity when I am out of college, or maybe even sooner, I would like to teach music lessons to kids whose parents aren’t able to afford them. I think if I can teach a kid to sing or drum or play guitar who otherwise wouldn’t have a chance to refine those skills, that will be the greatest thing I can do to thank my mom for what she did for me, and to pass the gift of music on to a new crop of starry-eyed rock star hopefuls.

I don’t come from a line of wealthy people. In fact, the opposite is true. But in the last dozen years, I’ve seen my mother do everything she can to have the kind of lasting wealth she can pass down to me and my brother. When I was six, my dad left us. My mom is a teacher and she struggled to keep the four-bedroom house that my twin brother and I have lived in since birth. Many people tried to convince her to sell it and rent an apartment. She was defiant. She said owning a home was an investment in your future, but renting one was investing in someone else’s. If she needed to sell it to put us through college, she would when the time came, but not then. I’m not sure what you know about teacher salaries, but they’re pretty slim. She took jobs after school tutoring and selling tickets at football and basketball games. I could go on, but the bottom line is that I’m about to graduate from high school and not only do we still live there, but Mom has made sure that the place has stayed in good repair. It’s her legacy. I’d sooner die than see her sell it, so I’m doing everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’ve taken dual credit classes at school for the last three years that will count for college credit, eliminating some of the courses I’ll have to take in college. I also plan to take courses every summer at my local junior college to get more classes out of the way at a more affordable price. My mom said she did this in college and it helped a lot. Right after my 18th birthday, I talked with a financial planner about investing in stocks and we decided I am going to invest a large portion of any cash I get for graduation. We also talked about my retirement plan and things like 401Ks since I’ve been working part-time at a restaurant for two years. I don’t think most people start those things so early, but my mom said she wishes she had and that I shouldn’t make the same mistakes she did, so I talked to the financial planner and came up with a plan. Finally, in effort to get out of college with as little debt as possible, I am applying for any scholarship that I can find for which I am qualified. Not only do I owe it to myself to do so, but to my future children to whom I will pass down my wealth, and most importantly, to my mother, because I know that she is doing all she can to help and will continue to do so until I walk across a stage with a diploma in my hand- even if it means selling our house. I don’t want her to do that, and I’ll do all I can to prevent it. But the fact that she’s willing, and that she’s struggled for over a decade for the sole purpose of selling it for my college if she needed to, tells me that Mom values family. She loves me and my brother and she takes her role as our provider very seriously; above all else. I know I’m young and I don’t know a lot about life, but I can only assume that’s the driving force behind generational wealth: to provide for those you love, even after you die. I also assume that the earlier one starts, the easier that will be to do.