What I want to build is something that didn't exist for me when I needed it most: a community-rooted music program in New York City that gives young people from underserved neighborhoods real access to instruments, instruction, mentorship, and the kind of visible representation that tells a kid their dream is not too big for where they come from. I know the gap this program would fill because I lived inside it. Growing up in Manhattan as a self-taught musician with no access to private lessons, quality gear, or industry connections, I built everything through sheer discipline and an obsession that refused to quiet down regardless of how many obstacles stood in the way. That journey produced real results; it carried me from a bedroom in Manhattan to NYU Steinhardt as a transfer student. But I am acutely aware that the same path is not available to every young person with equal or greater talent who grows up in circumstances like mine. Too much potential gets lost simply because the right resources never showed up at the right time. What I want to build addresses that directly. A program rooted in the community it serves, designed and led by educators who actually come from these neighborhoods and understand their specific needs from the inside. A space where a thirteen-year-old who feels the same thing I felt the first time I heard Jimi Hendrix or picked up a guitar has somewhere to go and someone to learn from, so they don't have to figure it all out alone the way I did. Building this program requires building myself first. Every skill I develop at NYU Steinhardt, every relationship I form inside one of the world's great music institutions, and every door that opens because of my education is a resource I am intentionally accumulating for something larger than my own career. The performance experience, the network, the credibility, and the pedagogical training I am building academically are all tools, and I have never been someone who acquires tools without knowing exactly what I plan to build with them. The impact of this program extends far beyond music. Research consistently shows that sustained arts education in underserved communities produces measurable improvements in academic engagement, mental health, and long-term economic outcomes. When young people are given genuine outlets for creative expression and are surrounded by mentors who believe in their potential, the effects ripple through every dimension of their lives. Music saved me in ways I am still discovering; it gave me discipline when I had none, direction when I was lost, and proof that I was capable of more than my circumstances suggested. What I want to build is a structure that passes that same gift forward, deliberately, consistently, and for as long as I can show up for it. The blueprint already exists inside my own story, but I need the platform and the resources to bring this vision to life.

I am passionate about pursuing a degree in music performance because it sits at the exact intersection of everything I am and everything I want to become. This isn't a field I stumbled into or chose out of convenience; it's the natural next step in a journey that started the moment I picked up a guitar at thirteen years old and realized that music was the most honest language I had ever encountered. For over five years, I taught myself to play across virtually every genre, using nothing but the internet, my ears, and an obsession I couldn't fully explain. That self-driven process gave me an incredibly strong foundation, but it also showed me exactly where my gaps were. I understood feel and instinct deeply. What I wanted was to match that with real technical mastery, the kind that transforms a passionate musician into a complete performer. A degree in music performance is precisely where those two worlds meet. What excites me most about this field of study is that it demands everything from you all at once. Performance isn't passive; it requires you to be technically precise and emotionally present simultaneously. Understanding how to command an instrument, interpret a piece, communicate feeling to an audience, and execute under pressure requires a level of training that goes far beyond self-study. It asks you to dig into music theory, history, and technique, not as abstract concepts but as living tools that directly shape how you play. That kind of deep, intentional development is something I am genuinely hungry for. Growing up in New York City surrounded by an endlessly diverse musical landscape fuels my passion for this particular degree. This city exposed me to jazz, hip hop, rock, R&B, classical, and everything in between before I ever formally studied any of it. Pursuing music performance means I get to take the broad musical vocabulary I've built through years of listening and playing, and learn how to channel it with precision and intention. I want to be the kind of performer who can move fluidly between genres and sounds because I understand the underlying architecture of all of them. Later, supplementing my self-taught foundation with private lessons gave me a taste of what structured training could unlock, and it only deepened my appetite for more. I am also passionate about this degree because of what it represents beyond the stage. Performance builds communication, discipline, and the ability to connect with people across every kind of background and barrier. The skills I develop in this program don't just make me a better guitarist; they shape me into a more complete artist and a more intentional human being. For a first-generation student who has had to carve his own path at every turn, that kind of growth is everything. Pursuing this degree is how I close the gap between where I am and where I know I'm capable of going. Every hour I've spent practicing, every song I've studied, and every stage I've stepped onto have been preparation for exactly this. I'm not just passionate about this degree. I'm ready for it.