I don't remember my life without music in it. My mother loves to sing, so she was always playing pop and country hits in the car, and we all sang along with gusto. I started making my own music as soon as I could figure out how to do it. Turns out, I have a passion for the craft of making music and I've decided to make music production my career. This September, I plan to begin my studies at the Conservatory for Recording Arts and Sciences in Tempe, Arizona. CRAS students learn quickly and intensively, which I'm eager to do, but the tuition is more than my family can afford right now. My mom has been an ultrasound tech for thirty years and just had to have surgery on her shoulder, putting her out of work for at least four to five months this year. My dad is a disabled Veteran who has been unable to work the last three years due to cognitive decline. While they have promised to do everything they can to help me pursue my dream of producing music, I could use some help paying down that tuition of $25,000. Training at CRAS means I will get at least six certifications in sound engineering and finish a three-month internship at the last part of the year that will give me practical experience in a studio or live music environment. Throughout my year at CRAS, I will have access to recording studios and equipment that will allow me to record my own music as well in a high-quality environment. I play guitar, piano/synthesizer, trumpet, drums, and ukulele (and I can sing a little too). I hope this means I can create and market some tunes before I even leave school. Though I'm from a small town in rural Eastern Washington, I plan to go big with my career plans! I would love to intern in New York City or Los Angeles, at the pinnacle of theater, television, and music scenes. I believe that my passion will lead me to the recording studio, ultimately, but until I attend CRAS, I won't know my aptitude for live music and I haven't ruled out working in that environment as well. Have you heard of Benny Blanco? Aside from being married to one of the most famous names in music, Selena Gomez, Benny is now considered, at the age of 38, one of the most influential music producers in the business. Where did Benny get his start? He taught himself how to play several instruments and, on a boombox in his bedroom, he started making beats at the age of five. He refined his craft in a recording studio in New York City. With passion, experimentation, and a true belief in his own songwriting and music production abilities, Benny built the career I dream of having. I would appreciate any help you could give me as I pursue my own path in music production.

I've grown up in a rural area, on a small farm, with three older siblings and parents who are happily married. I've raised furry and feathered, treasured friends. I've breathed clean air. I have skateboarded, shot baskets, and flipped and flopped on the trampoline until I was so exhausted all I could do was look at the stars. What an amazing place to grow up. I know I'm fortunate. But rural places are also often economically depressed. Poverty is commonplace and families, especially indigenous families, are commonly broken. The number of homeless and at-risk youth has doubled in the last three years by recent estimates. I could see this gap: Between the stable home I grew up in and the real struggle that existed for kids less fortunate than me. I saw the opportunity to 'create connections' with these youth through the Foundation for Youth Resilience and Engagement (FYRE). I'm an employee there, but I also have opportunities to do training and volunteer activities outside of work. My work there is part entertainment and 'safe space' for youth accessing FYRE resources. Everyone is welcome at FYRE, no matter how sad their story, how much trouble they might be in, or how different they might be from me. Because of my work, I get to be a mentor, a confidante, and share my many interests: Music, skating, sports, art, among other things. I love the diversity and differing perspectives of the kids I meet through FYRE. They've taught me much more than I thought possible. I'm there for them, but they are shaping me and teaching me who I'd like to be. My uncle is a successful composer and musician, somebody I look up to professionally and personally. From the moment he came into my aunt's life when we were little, I aspired to apply music to life the way my uncle Troels has. Last year, I started to study for my Associate's degree while in high school and I had the opportunity to choose a major. My first call was to my uncle to see if he thought I should pursue music. He told me to study business (a surprising request, but a logical way to earn a marketable degree.) So, I took marketing, accounting, and writing classes. I visited four-year colleges I could transfer to for business. Three quarters into my degree path, it became clear: I do not enjoy studying business. One more accounting class would have actually killed me with boredom. This is where I had to be 'boldly, unapologetically me' and choose how I wanted to pursue my own path. I changed my major. I'm now studying for a general associate's degree. I applied to a school where I can study to become a sound engineer and begin sharing my music creations with the world at least two years sooner. I called my uncle Troels, though I dreaded telling him what I had done. I will never forget his reply, 'Well, Ryder. I'm proud of you. Sometimes the best way to react to others giving you advice is to take none of it.' And it's true. I am ecstatic with the choice I made and I'm so excited to attend the Conservatory for Recording Arts and Sciences and to pursue my career in music.

My Dad is a Desert Storm Navy veteran and even though he jokes with me that N.A.V.Y means ‘Never Again Volunteer Yourself’, I can tell that his time in the military gave him much of the work ethic and knowledge he carried into the rest of his adult life. He also got to travel the world in a P-3 Orion (a four-engine prop plane that hunts submarines) and lived in and explored places many of us will only dream of seeing. There are so many stories and since my dad’s best friend from those years, Crash (my dad is ‘Burn’), lives close by now, I’ve gotten to hear a bunch. My favorite story involves one of the coldest places on Earth: Adak, Alaska. Dad’s squadron was based out of Moffett Field in Mountain View, California, but he spent almost all of his active duty years either deployed for the Desert Storm conflict or detached when the crew was needed somewhere else in the world. The crew never got a choice in the matter! One day, very possibly chuckling to himself as he wrote the orders, the commanding officer saw things cooling off in the Middle East, so he detached his flight crew to Adak, Alaska so they could keep track of the Soviet submarines off the American coast. What did this mean for the Golden Eagles? On the day of departure, it was 120 degrees Fahrenheit on the tarmac in Saudi Arabia. They could literally fry an egg where they were standing. Orders said to head to Misawa, Japan for ‘foul-weather gear’ and then head out to the tip of the Aleutian Islands. The weather there? Negative 40 degrees Fahrenheit! They were all smart enough to know the transition would be tough. The turnaround time was less than 24 hours away, but they tried their best to mentally prepare. What they couldn’t have predicted was that Adak was cold in ways they had never experienced. The bunkers there are buried underground so they can endure the severity of the weather. The crew thought they had accounted for the cold. They didn’t account for the wind. Dad loved his flight crewmates and he trusted his pilots implicitly. The P-3 is a good-sized plane, but it lacks the luxury of modern jets and airplanes. They hunkered down in their huge tin can, in their little cubbies along the fuselage, and they bounced and weaved their way through turbulence that jumbled their insides. When they landed, their plane slid completely sideways as they skidded to a stop. Grateful to be on the ground in one piece, but eager to deplane, Dad and crew piled off the plane. He pulled his headset from his ears to around his neck but didn’t stow it, in his haste to get on the ground. When he got to the stairs outside, a blast of cold hit him like he had never felt, straight to his bones like he had no clothing at all on. When he glanced down, he suddenly understood what Adak would be all about. His cord to his headset was frozen, sticking straight out. Now that is cold! What an experience to go from the hottest place on Earth to the coldest in less than twenty-four hours. That’s why I love that story so much and wanted to share.

When I was a little kid, my Danish uncle came to visit our ranch for the first time. He wasn't like my other uncles, though. This uncle carried a small recording device everywhere with him. When he noticed our neighbor's beehives, he rushed over to capture their humming. When a storm took hold, he noticed that the screens in his bedroom made a keening noise, so he recorded that and the rumble of thunder. He gave the recorder to my big sister who documented, among other things, the dog barking and panting, a plastic shovel sifting sand, people talking in the distance, and irrigation sprinklers. Out of that, he made software and named her part 'Livia's Playbox'. Uncle Troel's creativity sparked my earliest yearning to create and capture music. From the reverberation of our environment to melodic musical instruments to the thrum of percussion, I can't get enough of sounds and how much fun it is to mix them together. More fun even than creating my own music is collaborating with others who share my passion for music. When I graduate and go out into the world, I want to do what I love, and I want to entertain others with what I've learned. This fall, I plan to attend the Conservatory for Recording Arts and Sciences so I can study Music Production and learn how to put my passion to action, with a tangible, marketable skill set. At CRAS, I will learn how to produce music from the recording studio to the stage to broadcast studios. Intense study for nine months will lead to an internship where I will immediately apply those skills. CRAS has a 'wall of fame'. People who have reached the pinnacle of music production and the artists they support win awards. These are displayed in a shiny, glittery collage at the Conservatory's entrance. I want to be on that wall--I have visualized myself on that wall. That's what success in the music industry looks like. To reach that level of success, I have a plan: Study hard, and then when I've studied enough, go into the studio and learn more. Learn during class, learn after hours, learn at home with the equipment my program has supplied to me. When I'm an intern, listen attentively, watch closely, and emulate, as much as possible, the people who have achieved the kind of success I'm looking for. Network tirelessly with everyone I meet along the way. Make connections and build relationships. Say yes to new adventures and be willing to travel near and far to learn more. CRAS has a 'wall of fame'. People who have reached the pinnacle of music production and the artists they support win awards. These are displayed in a shiny collage at the Conservatory's entrance. I want to be on that wall--I have visualized myself on that wall. That's what success in the music industry looks like. Yes, I will be learning a trade. Yes, I will have a job. But to me, that career path is so much more than both of those things. It's a path to who I've always been meant to be: Someone who follows his passions and brings music to life for the world.

I cannot wait for my senior golf season to start because I know there are more lessons to learn, but here is what I've learned so far from golf: The smell of fresh-cut grass invites me in like spring after a long winter. The rustle of leaves in the trees tease me as much as I try to avoid smacking my ball toward them. The turtles inhabiting water hazards peer out and seem to poke fun as we wander by. On one course, we made a large swath around the rattle snake that occupied the green. Golf connects me with nature in a huge way. But that's not the biggest lesson. Golfing at night is extraordinarily challenging. The giggles from my brother and my best friend as we bump through the night blind (and dumb) lighten my heart far more than any birdie ever could. Golf builds unforgettable memories and friendships. Golfing at night, however, is not the best way to get better at golf. But that isn't the biggest lesson either. Golf isn't fun when it is raining, snowing, or windy. Windy golf courses can be scary if there are a lot of trees--one should avoid being under them if possible. Golfing in warm, dry climates is preferable. Planning vacations around golf makes total sense to me. Still not the biggest lesson, though! Being part of a golf team is both challenging and elevating. The spirit of competition amplifies learning. Someone on your team will always be better at something: driving, putting, even navigating! If I pay attention to how someone is doing it better, my game will improve. Mostly, if I admit that I don't know everything and remain receptive to the advice I get from other players and my coaches, I'm going to benefit from being part of the team. Believe it or not, this is still not the biggest lesson I've learned. The biggest life lesson I've learned from golf is this: Respect. Golf rules and etiquette are steeped in rich tradition. Men (and women) have, for centuries, developed strict rules for dress and behavior. There is order required for taking shots and for how I treat fellow players. My conduct pays homage to golf's robust history and all of those who went before me. Don't get me wrong. It's fun to whack a ball 250 yards and indescribably satisfying when said ball goes straight toward the green. But etiquette requires respect and quiet while my opponent tries to do the same. Respect makes me leave the course as much as possible the way I found it. I feel like this is the lesson I can most apply to the rest of my future: Respect applies to my personal conduct and how I react to the conduct of others. Respect is broad: Whatever situation I find myself in, often there are people around me who've encountered the same situation before. If I can respect their experience and apply the lessons they've already learned and shared with me, I can save a lot of time and grief. Respect can be simple too: I can dress appropriately for events, arrive on time, conduct myself with consideration for others at all times. If I apply respect throughout my future experiences, I will be applying the biggest life lesson that golf taught me.

Growing up on a ranch has been peaceful and fun, but it also means that I've lived a long way out of town my whole life. Yet, skateboarding captured my heart and imagination when I was twelve. We have concrete out here in places, but once I mastered flat surfaces, I was out of luck on how I could improve my skills. So, I drew up a plan and recruited my handy dad to create a box with me made from pressure treated wood, plywood, and steel we had sitting around the ranch. I mastered ollies and manuals and shuvits on my six-foot box. Then I asked my dad--could we build a full-blown half-pipe ramp? I made another plan and we started building again--framing, decking, siding, and painting--and now our barn is part hay barn and part skate park! I live in the country, but I've never lacked a way to build my skills thanks to creativity and hard work. As I've gotten older, skateboarding has become a way to connect to youth in the community as well. I work in a youth empowerment center providing safe space and activities to engage kids after school and during breaks. Skateboarding is a language we can speak together. Another of my passions is creating and producing music. My inspiration was my uncle Troels, who is a composer in Hollywood, and spent most of his creative life building the sounds of the world into software that can be used in soundtracks and recording. He has taught me a lot about sound quality and production methods. He even let me intern for him for two summers in California. I've used what I've learned so far to create 'beats' which are shorter snippets of music than a full song, with many sounds spliced together to create drama and evoke emotion from whatever they accompany. The beats I create have always been useful for class skits and videos produced by my friends, but now they're a source of fascination for the kids I work with. Music, like skating, is a common language. Kids want to know how they can create their own beats to accompany creative projects, like videos and presentations. Some of them can sing or rap and need the music to go along with their efforts. If I had the money and resources, I would create a music production studio at our center so I could make music with youth participants and build with them a marketable skill set. I would try to inspire them like my uncle has inspired me. Not only would the studio give them a productive activity to pass the time, the music they create could be used in school and to share with their peers and online. Youth would be empowered in a whole new way.