I don’t remember how old I was then, but when the Barbie Princess and the Popstar movie was released, I put it on every day in our household, grabbed my toy mic, put on my sparkliest shirt, and jumped on our living room ottoman, mirroring the popstar protagonist onstage with sparkling eyes, imagining myself doing the exact same thing. Fast forward to college me, in my first year of music school, performing my first paid gig as a drummer in a friend’s band, it’s my turn to do a drum solo, and everything is coming out of me naturally. The fills, the groove, the improv, for the first time, nothing is going on in my brain when I’m playing. I’m not thinking about what to play next, or if I’m following the song structure, I’m just vibing, having fun, and my eyes are sparkling the same way they did on that ottoman all those years ago. That feeling I got from the music I was playing, I wanted to recreate it, but I didn’t know how until I discovered video game scoring. One of the first games I played that made me fall in love with video game music was Genshin Impact. It had just come out, and for the first time, my heart raced when the music changed for a battle or stealth scene, my brain gearing up to focus on something challenging. In the same way, when I played Persona 5 Royal years later for the first time, the music was so homey, easy-going, and comforting that it became my study anthem all the way into college because it was the only thing that could get me to focus on homework. The realization that music had a physiological effect on me, especially in the zone of interactive audio, was so compelling that it made me want to pursue it in my college education. That pursuit led me to Berklee College of Music and their first year abroad program in Valencia, Spain, where I found influences I want to impart on my music. Spain’s large Latin cultural identity made its music a core part of our curriculum, and upon being immersed in it with school and the local festivals, I got to see music as a symbol and representation of culture. That exposure led to the studying of my own cultural roots and music as a Filipino, as I fell in love with OPM (Original Pilipino Music) and found myself wanting to emulate it with my music going forward to honor and share my culture. While in Valencia, I took a Live Sound and Stage Craft class covering live music mixing, signal flow, and stage setup for live music performances. It was so fascinating to learn how electricity turns into a signal and a signal turns into sound. My favorite moment was when I got to actually be the mixing board operator during one of the school’s live performances. It was so nerve-wracking and exhilarating to be compressing drums live, or adding reverb to the singers’ voices in real time, but it was addicting hearing my actions have an effect on what the audience is hearing. The combination of all these experiences up until now has brought me so much joy in music and reminds me of the young girl all those years ago dancing, singing, and imagining a life in music on that living room ottoman. Except now, her eyes are not sparkling with dreams of what could be; they’re sparkling with the reality of living that dream, and understanding how it all works.

Ever since my mom died, my dad held down the fort that was our house. The lessons he taught me have led me on my educational journey today, and inspired me to pursue my dreams of creating music that comforts and heals. As a public speaker, he always liked to tell me that it doesn't matter if the room is filled with 100 or one million people; if you can touch the heart of one or impact their lives just a little bit, then you've done your job. It made me realize that's the goal I have with my music: to make at least one person who listens to it feel my emotions and hopefully relate and find comfort in it. I want my music to help people know that they aren't alone in their feelings and to bring them comfort in their dark times, like music was for me when I lost my mom. Like my dad, I want to share my story in hopes of reaching the person who needs it the most. When my family was bombed in an airport terrorist attack in Brussels, Belgium, in 2016, it cost my family our physical and mental health from our wounds and the trauma, but most notably the loss of my mom. Going from having both parents to only one, the loss felt inexplicably painful, but my dad gave himself a new mission. He raised us and loved us with the strength of two parents, pushing through his own pain of losing the love of his life. It was hard, but we made it work as we realized we were all each other had left. I love my dad and credit him for being one of the reasons I am where I am now. Getting into Berklee College of Music, where I am fulfilling my dreams of being a music composer, wouldn’t have been possible without my dad’s unwavering support. My mother was always the musical one in the family, but that didn’t stop my dad from learning everything he could and being as involved as possible in my activities so that he could help me in any way he could on my musical journey. He signed me up for drumset and vocal lessons, brought out and cleaned his old drumset for me to play on, and came to every one of my gigs so that I had a smiling face in the crowd. He always tried his best to fill the gap that my mother left, and because of his consistent presence in my musical journey, I had the courage to audition and eventually make it into my dream school. Always following my dad’s mantra of “hard work will never betray you,” I put hours in the practice room and my studies to work towards my dreams. I want to honor my dad’s support and hard work by accomplishing my dreams because without him, I believe I wouldn’t have the strength to still be pursuing this path. Without my mom, I thought my musical journey would be bleak and lonely, but every step, my dad was there with me, holding my hand. Even though we didn’t have my mom, we had each other, and that was more than enough. Because of how he impacted me growing up with his lessons and support, and impacted other people through his speeches, I want to continue his legacy in my own way: by creating music that comforts and heals just like he did to me.

Back in 2016, my family was bombed in a horrific airport terrorist attack in Brussels, Belgium. It cost my family our physical and mental health from our wounds and the trauma, but most notably the loss of my mom. Going from having both parents to only one, the loss felt inexplicably painful, especially for my dad, who was a military officer with severe PTSD. So when she passed, my dad had no clue how to parent and did so in the only way he knew how. He disciplined us and held high expectations of us, like we were his soldiers. However, it didn't work the best, as what my siblings and I needed was not a commander; we needed our dad. Over the years, my dad softened and learned how to teach with care and compassion, and my siblings and I got used to and learned to love our dad's gruff nature. It was hard, but we made it work as we realized we were all each other had left. Ultimately, I love my dad and credit him for being one of the reasons I am where I am now. I am at Berklee College of Music, where I am fulfilling my dreams of being a music composer. I credit my dad for this achievement because he taught me a lesson that I will abide by for the rest of my life: hard work will never betray you. Since I started drumming at the beginning of high school, and for a little bit wasn't taking professional lessons, when I finally did, I felt behind my peers. I didn't let that stop me. I practiced and put the hours in and ended up becoming part of my music school's prestigious house band and playing at the world's biggest music festival, Summerfest, in two years. Following that, I got injured and wasn't able to play for a period of time and prepare as much as I wanted to for my Berklee audition. I was so scared of not getting in because of that. However, the lesson my dad taught me showed results when I was able to finally play; all the hours I put in came back naturally as my body remembered, and I ended up aceing the audition, leading to me studying at Berklee now. Even now, as I'm here, this lesson still rings true in the way that my hours in the practice room are the reason I get picked by my peers and teachers to record, perform, and work with them. The hard work and consistency show, and even if I don't achieve this one thing now, putting in the work will only get me there, not pull me back further. I also credit my dad with the reason I am here: to make music that touches people's hearts and tells my story. Since he is now a public speaker, he likes to say that it doesn't matter if the room is filled with 100 or one million people, if you can touch the heart of one or impact their lives just a little bit, then you've done your job. That's the goal I have with my music: to make at least one person who listens to it feel my emotions and hopefully relate. I want my music to help people know that they aren't alone in their feelings and to bring them comfort in their dark times, like music was for me when I lost my mom. Like my dad, I want to share my story in hopes of reaching the person who needs it the most.

22 March 2016 – Brussels Zaventem Airport Terrorist Attack. I, along with my three siblings, my mother, and my father who had just returned from his fifth combat tour in Afghanistan, were at the Brussels Zaventem Airport when a three-man ISIS suicide team attacked the airport killing 35 people and injuring hundreds of civilians. The first of two bombs detonated less than two feet from my family and me. In that attack, my mother Gail Martinez was lost instantly and I along with my siblings and father suffered life-altering physical/emotional injuries that we continue to suffer from to this day. From the tragic loss of my mother to enduring unimaginable pain from the shrapnel, blast wounds, third-degree burns, and subsequent medical procedures to help myself and my family heal, I had to become the very definition of resiliency and strength for my family in my mother’s place. As the only one able to walk, I watched over and cared for my family while they were in a coma and/or incapacitated. I would sit by their side and talk to them, hoping and praying that they could hear me. I would call on nurses and doctors when I heard them wail in pain or need medical attention. I did everything I could to soothe their wounds and be the pillar of strength they needed in their recovery. Yet, despite that horrific event, I have not only persevered through the tough years of physical and emotional rehabilitation but also achieved well beyond any expectations for a survivor of a terrorist attack. In the eight years since that fateful day, I have succeeded academically; currently in the top 2% of my class of 850+, as well as excelled in extracurricular activities: I have become a highly decorated student leader in Junior AFROTC in only my first two years, and finally, a drummer and a lead vocalist for the performance band of the nationally recognized School of Rock. Most recently, I was selected as the 2024 Military Child of the Year for the Air Force for all I’ve done despite losing my mom 8 years ago. I continue to bear both the physical and mental scars of that tragic day but rather than allow it to crush me, I use the pain to fight on and make my mother proud as she would have wanted me to do. I also took on the role of caregiver to my 100 percent permanently disabled father – a combat-wounded veteran and Purple Heart recipient who suffers from severe PTSD and depression as well as a litany of physical/mental effects of the injuries suffered in the attack at the Belgium airport. With my two older siblings now grown and out of the house, I have assumed the responsibility of caring for my father and younger sister. As I realize how easy it is to lose someone dear to me, especially my family, I want to spend every moment making them proud and achieving dreams worthy of my mother's sacrifice.