College is a unique time in a person's life. It is an opportunity to deep-dive into our interest and learn more about the topics that excite us. For some it’s medicine, for others it’s engineering. For me, it’s music. The passion for music has been omnipresent throughout my life. From volunteering to sing at church, to playing trumpet in the high school band, I have surrounded myself with music. I got more into music around 2012 when my dad passed away. After his unexpected passing, my family also moved to a new school district. With these numerous changes, life felt unpredictable, but there was always one constant: music. Continuing my love for music, I entered college in pursuit of a degree in music education. As a music education student, each day is new and exciting. One day we’re learning how to play the violin, the next we’re teaching our peers the trumpet. The degree of music education is hands on and innovative. These aspects are what I love about music and my course of study. After receiving my degree, I plan to teach general music at a local elementary school. When there, I will strive to set up a solid foundation of learning and trust. Elementary music is the basis for all musical learning to come. It sets up their general knowledge for music and gives students an outlet to express their creativity. I hope to inspire students to explore their own interest in music by providing countless opportunities for them to take advantage of. Some of the experiences I have planned are setting up a mallet ensemble, visiting the orchestra and opera and having local musicians come in to perform. By exposing students to all forms of music, it allows them to create their own opinions and find what sparks their interest. As a teacher, helping guide students is the greatest task we have. In the music community, it truly takes a whole village. That is why I commit myself to volunteering and finding ways to give back. Some prime examples include playing trumpet for local preschools and singing for nursing home residents around the holidays. Bringing music to my community fills me with joy. There is nothing better than watching children in awe of the soaring sounds of the trumpet or listening to the elderly sing quietly along to Christmas tunes. While there is no pay for services such as these, the happiness it brings to others is priceless. I believe this is the true spirit of music: community

BEEP BEEP I drowsily reach for my alarm. Despite having all semester to adjust, 6am comes quite early. I roll my way out of bed as my blankets drape to the floor. I flick on the lights and flinch away from its blinding appearance. My clothes are thrown everywhere as I decide what to wear. Quickly, I brush my hair and teeth. Although I start the day a bit groggy, I am always ready to go because I know I get to spend the day doing what I love. The sun barely breeches the horizon when I arrive at the Creative Arts Center every morning. The desolate parking lot greets me. The automatic lights flicker in the baren halls as I head to the practice rooms to begin my day. The school day starts as it always does, just me and my morning friend, the trumpet. As I begin my practice, I reflect on what brought me here. Being a music major is hard. No matter what anyone tells you about the ease of this course, they're wrong. Hours of ensemble rehearsals, max credit loads of classes and all free time being spent in the practice room are just scratching the surface of a music major's workload. When you suddenly add in learning new instruments, taking general education courses and performing, the number of activities becomes unbearable. No one warned me of this when I entered the school of music my freshman year. Music is all fun and games until the imposter syndrome kicks in. Even when you find yourself succeeding, you wonder, "Do I deserve this? Am I worthy?" Suddenly you're comparing your success to others and feeling so small. You can make such beautiful music, but it's never your best if you're trapped behind guilt and shame. Getting out of this mindset was a battle. It was harder than any passage of music or music theory concept. Fortunately, it was not a battle I needed to fight alone. The biggest help toward conquering the voice in my head was friendships. Fellow music majors would encourage me and help me to take pride in my successes. We found ways to take breaks by playing cards or going on walks. I continue to implement breaks and encouragement to help make my mental health a priority. As new freshmen enter the school of music, I make sure to remind them that they're doing great because music is hard but fighting for your mental health is harder.

There are few things in life that are certain. Change is inevitable. You can try your best to fight it, but like clockwork, change will come. Sometimes it's small, like an unexpected rainy day or going to bed later than normal. Other times change can knock you off your feet with the unknown. Change is inevitable, no matter how hard you fight it. This was a fact of life I found out quickly. My first big change was a loss. When my dad passed away, my world was flipped upside down. Loss can be the biggest change. I was pulled from school for a week and a half and had to live at my grandparent's house for days. Eventually my mom remarried, and I transferred schools. With all of this, life had become full of the unknown, and I didn't know how to take it. When life brought change, music was my constant. I found my home in music. It gave me a new purpose. While this fire of passion was lit by the joy of music, my mom truly kindled the flames. She encouraged me to pursue anything I felt called to. She spoke with the church music director to get me involved in cantoring. She researched the local theater group to help me sign up for auditions. When I joined choir and band, she gave me her own trumpet. Mom was at every concert, every performance and every show. Through the sea of changes, she helped me find my rock. Again, change was coming, but this time; I was ready. Through my dedication to music and the encouragement of my mom, I auditioned for music school. Just as she was at every performance, mom joined me to every tour and audition. It meant the world to me that she was dedicated to my future and helping me achieve all I could. After the rigorous process of auditioning, I eventually decided on a school and made my way to confront the change of college. Pursuing music in college has been one of my greatest decisions. As a music education major, I get the opportunity to pursue my passions and acquire a career that helps others pursue theirs. Young students are filled with endless potential, and I hope to help them discover it. The time teachers spend with students is minuscule in the grand scheme of things, I strive to make this time with them impactful. Maybe someday I’ll get the chance to teach the next Broadway stars or the next great composers. Even if my students don’t end up pursuing music beyond high school, I hope that during the time they do, music can touch their lives like it has touched mine.

Over 49,000 people die to suicide each year. That's 135 deaths a day and one death every 11 minutes. On September 17, 2012, Kyle Rindler, my dad became a part of that statistic. He became a part of the ever-rising male suicide rates here in our country. To the world he may be just a number, but to three little girls, he's a father. To one lonely woman, he's a husband. And to an old lady who lost her own spouse the same way, he's a son. To those he left behind, it's our job to live on and share our memories and stories with the world. My story with loss is full of twist and turns, but ultimately, I wouldn't be where I am now without it. It's so easy to get trapped in loss. It's an overwhelming feeling that drowns you. Some days it can be tempting to give into the waves. In the end it's ultimately up to you to decide whether you sink or swim. I spent a lot of time treading the waters of loss. Although my father passed in 2012, it took 5 more years to find out that he had taken his own life. This news came as a shock after previously being told that he had died to an illness. It was hard to imagine that he would have done such a thing. I never had a memory of dad being anything less than a radiant source of joy. He was the life of the party and the sweetest dad. My best memories of him included painting his nails, watching thunderstorms from the garage, and fishing off the dock. Even though he appeared happy for us all the time, there were things going on below that I could have never known. I think this is the biggest connection for those who have lost someone to suicide, you never see it coming. Coming back from the waves of loss was a struggle, but eventually I found a light house to bring me to shore. In a world full of changes, music was my constant. I joined the choir and band. I volunteered in every ensemble in church. I even picked up ukelele. Music became my outlet for expression in everyday life. I could pour my heart and soul into music, and it asked for nothing in return. My voice through music became my source of hope. The passion for music that I discovered after the loss of my dad eventually brought me to pursuing a degree in music education. This degree path combines two important aspects in my life. As a music teacher, I get the chance to impact other's lives for the better. I can be a positive force in students' lives and help brighten their days. If students are struggling, I hope to be a safe place for them to come to. Sometimes all someone could need is a person to rely on and come to with their troubles. I believe that even if it's small, I can have an impact on the lives of others and help change the statistics of suicide in our country.

*BEEP* *BEEP* I drowsily reach for my alarm. Despite having all semester to adjust, 6am comes quite early. I roll my way out of bed as my blankets drape to the floor. I flick on the lights and flinch away from its blinding appearance. My clothes are thrown everywhere as I decide what to wear. Quickly, I brush my hair and teeth. Although I start the day a bit groggy, I am always ready to go because I know I get to spend the day doing what I love. The sun barely breeches the horizon when I arrive at the Creative Arts Center every morning. The desolate parking lot greets me. The automatic lights flicker in the desolate halls as I head to the practice rooms to begin my day. The school day begins just as it always does, just me and my morning friend, the trumpet. Although I start alone, slowly but surely music fills the hallways as other students begin their day. The clashing of mallets echoes from the percussion studio. The sweet tone of the French horn fills out the hall. The school of music comes alive. The Creative Arts Center is not your normal school setting. Instead of math and science, students learn music theory and singing skills. Days are filled with practice time, ensemble rehearsals, and learning. While the university may have thousands of students, barely a hundred of them convene within the school of music. Students and faculty work hand in hand to create an environment where students can learn and grow together as musicians, educators and people. Although it's the school of music, most students are here for education. In one way or another, a teacher has had an impact on each of our lives. Pursuing education is a life changing career. As a teacher, you get the chance to impact students of every background and identity. Children are the future of our world. They will be our next actors, judges, and engineers. Educators have the rare chance to lead their students towards their passions, especially in the field of music education. In music, students can find an outlet of expression and creativity. The music classroom is a break from math and science. It's a time for play, fun and community. As the leader of this class, I hope to bring joy to my students and encourage them to be their best selves. Even if my students don't become the next big composers or Broadway stars, I hope that I can be a positive force in their lives and help them to find the joy of music.