Not long ago, my best friend, Adam, came out to me, letting me know that he was gay. I was the first person that he told, and for a long time I was the only person that he told before finally coming out publicly some months later. This was especially difficult to process because we were both working for an evangelical church at the time, which by and large does not condone homosexuality. Moreover, we were roommates living in a conservative area of California so the opportunity to engage in meaningful community with LGBTQ+ folks was almost nonexistent. Ironically, in the span of the same month, I had a former student that I mentored as well as a worship leader friend of mine in Nashville share with me that they too were gay. This was mind-boggling and somewhat overwhelming, but I took it as a sign that I was meant to confront this subject. For the first time, the issue had become personal, impossible to ignore, and I was forced to wrestle with what I really believed. This was honestly the most difficult time of my life. My faith means everything to me, and so I was truly shaken mentally, emotionally, and spiritually when those beliefs were challenged. You see, I was brought up thinking that to embrace homosexuality essentially meant rejecting God. But now I was beginning to find that it was not so black and white as all that. In fact, the grey area was growing larger and larger every day. I had many late-night (often, tearful) conversations with Adam. I experienced firsthand his struggle with reconciling his relationship with God and his relationship to himself. Whether he knew it or not, it had become my struggle too. The same unanswered questions that haunted his thoughts also haunted mine. He wasn't alone. There was one conversation in particular that I'll never forget. Adam was wanting my full support as an ally, but I hadn't yet reached a point where I could give it. I remember him saying, "Well, I guess this is where we go our separate ways." I was offended by this and told him that I wasn't going anywhere. To throw in the towel of our friendship would only mean my return to ignorance and wouldn't get me any closer to love and understanding. Whether he liked it or not, we were in this together. In those moments when I felt like my faith was slipping away, there came a night where I was simply overcome by distress. All I could do for catharsis was put my feelings into music. It started with a whistle, which (contrary to the way I was feeling) was a prayerful attempt at something hopeful. I added some melancholic guitars and swirling synths, and the resulting loop became the sonic backbone of my song, "Starry Eyed." The song summarizes my journey with Adam, and is about sticking together through hard times, holding on to hope. One of my favorite lines repeats in the bridge: "Your secrets are heavy / But I'll hold 'em til you don't need 'em anymore." Fast forward to now and we've made it through the storm. What I thought would hurt my faith has only helped it. My best friend is still my best friend, and my heart and community have grown in immense and beautiful ways. Funny enough, most of my closest friends now are gay. Looking back, I can attribute that to my initial willingness to be uncomfortable and seek understanding. My path to allyship was not easy, but it was so incredibly worth it.

Not long ago, my best friend came out of the closet. This was difficult to process because both of us worked at an evangelical church. I really had to wrestle with what I believed in, and there were moments when it felt like my faith was slipping away. One night, I was overcome by distress, and all I could do for catharsis was put my feelings into music. The resulting loop became the backbone of "Starry Eyed." The whistle intro you hear was a desperate attempt at something hopeful. I then doubled that with a warm, melancholic electric guitar, before adding some swirling synth textures. I played that loop on repeat, over and over again. A peace began to settle over me. I was okay.

As a freelance musician, I might be more readily considered a jack of all trades than a master of one. I am a self-taught pianist that took bagpipe lessons in middle school, picked up his first guitar in high school, majored in saxophone for his undergrad, yet makes his primary living as a vocalist. In many ways, this has afforded me the ability to work across a wide range of projects in the entertainment industry, from acting as the piano-playing stand-in for the Burger King to singing in the choir for the La La Land film score. However, in almost every situation I find myself being hired to perform someone else's brainchild, bringing someone else's vision to life. I would really like to turn those tables, and to be the driving, creative force behind such high-profile productions. A quick look at my resume might lead you to believe that I am a moderately successful background singer, but I am a much more well-rounded musician than that. I have worked with some of the best composers, producers, and artists in the world, and I have my own dreams to realize. In the last two years, I have slowly amassed a modest fan base while playing covers on YouTube under the moniker, Vân Scott. In that time I have also been collaborating with a host of talented producers and songwriters, from Nashville to Los Angeles, honing in on a definitive sound and building up my own original repertoire. I am very excited to be working on my current project, which is a full-length debut album due out in June of this year. Thematically, the music highlights the ups and downs that I have encountered since leaving my full-time church music position in 2018. A number of these songs take on a more melancholy tone, and address the doubts that I have experienced in my own decision-making, even in my faith. However, even in the midst of these challenges, I have always found a gleam of optimism and hope. That is what I long to bring to listeners through my music: positivity and encouragement for when the world seems unnavigable and unbearable. As confident as I am in this new music, I also recognize the fact that my songwriting and production skills could be even stronger. I believe that my recordings are above average, but they aren't quite yet at the Grammy-worthy "master" level. Part of what speaks to me about this scholarship is the thought of being able to "Master Your Craft." I am a student of life and I am constantly looking to improve my skills and reach my fullest potential. Reflecting on my days as an undergraduate student, I soaked up every opportunity to better myself, and I thrived in that learning environment. I went above and beyond the requirements for my major to become the best musician and creative asset that I could possibly be. It is in pursuit of this top-notch craftsmanship that my attention has been captured by the inaugural Songwriting and Production Masters program being offered at Berklee School of Music's New York City campus this fall. It is an intense one-year program that I believe will help elevate my skills to the highest level. I anticipate that it will be incredibly demanding and challenging, but, ultimately, immensely fruitful, inspiring, and gratifying. Given the current state of the world and the unsteady landscape it presents for emerging artists, I see this as the best chance to attain the next level in my career as a songwriter, producer, and an artist, to invest in myself, and to truly become a master of my craft. Not only would I leave this esteemed program more self-reliant, but I believe it would create incredible networking opportunities that would open up the doors for me to spearhead larger projects, with grander visions that would, in turn, employ and inspire others in my field that share the same love and affinity for music as myself.