Venezuela Series: Barquisimeto, week 2

I just completed an indescribable week in Barquisimeto.  I'll try to describe it anyway.  Fair warning: this will be a long entry.

On Monday, Elise, Monique, Sara and I got to the Barquisimeto conservatory around 10am to meet with its music director, Luis Jimenez.  Luis was one of the famous original eleven members of the first El Sistema orchestra, and hearing his story was priceless.  He is originally from Barquisimeto, and has been a major part in making the Barquisimeto conservatory the Venezuelan powerhouse it is today.  The part of his story that affected me the most pinpointed the exact moments when music education went from being a privilege to a social right in Barquisimeto.  It reminded me of why I got into this work in the first place, and what my goals are as a musician, educator and citizen.

After this great history lesson, the four of us met with Johnny Gomez, who is the director of the special needs program at the conservatory.  Barquisimeto is on the top of the field of providing music education for children and adults with special needs, it it was amazing to hear the man who started it all talk about how they got to where they are today.  We were all a little weepy by the time he got through with us.  More on this later.

After lunch, seven of us headed to a breathtakingly beautiful suburb of Barquisimeto called Santa Rosa.  Santa Rosa is home of Lara's Divina Pastora.  It also houses a nucleo that is only a few years old, where the children rehearse mainly in and around the town square every day.

Panorama of Santa Rosa's square

We were all anxious to get back to work, and our wish was granted.  Carlos and I began our week-long journey as team teachers for the brass students.  On Monday, we worked with three of Santa Rosa's horn players: Maria, Maria and José Victor.  I should also mention that before we left the conservatory for Santa Rosa, we ran into Mao.  Mao ended up having the afternoon free, so Xochitl and Diogo invited him to hop in the van to Santa Rosa with us!  Mao was a great addition to the Santa Rosa horn team.  He also gave me the necklace I'm wearing in the photo below.

Thanks to Carlos for grabbing this shot!

The nucleo usually ends rehearsal at 5:30 every day, but Carlos and I got the time wrong and ended up keeping our kids until 6.  No one told us to stop rehearsing.  The kids never asked for a break for the entire 3 hours we were working with them; neither did Carlos and I.

After we finished rehearsing, the fellows and nucleo leaders went and grabbed some sweets at the dulceria in the square.  Some of the kiddos joined us.

The student on the far right is José Victor, who Carlos and I met for the first time last week at the audition prep day at the conservatory.  They were working on the first horn part to Mahler’s 1st symphony.  During a rehearsal break, the horn students asked me which horn part I usually play, and I said 2nd.  José Victor ran out of the room, and came back a few minutes later with the 2nd horn part for me to play along with them.  I was very excited to see him again when we arrived at Santa Rosa.  At the beginning of rehearsal on this particular afternoon, his music was completely disorganized.  Carlos told him that we were going to come back (which we didn't actually know at the time), and that he expected José Victor’s music to be organized alphabetically.  Remember this a few paragraphs down the road.

On Tuesday, I did something I never thought I would do: learn to read braille.  One of the administrative team members for the special needs department of the conservatory spent a portion of the morning teaching several of us the basics of reading braille.  We started with the letters and numbers, and then we went into reading music.  She stressed to us to try not to compare reading music in braille with reading it by sight on the staff because they are completely different ways of reading music, and she was right.  The most notable difference is that in braille, there is no staff.  In reading braille music, portions are actually notated with the expectation that the learner will use intuition to figure out certain things, such as which octave the next note in the series is in.  I think it's so cool that there is a literacy system with inherent intuition built in.

I had to leave the braille session a bit early because Mao and I had arranged to have a lesson, which lasted for two hours.  The only reason we stopped was because I had somewhere else to be.  I taught Mao some horn, and he taught me some Spanish.  My teaching skills were exercised in a completely new way working around a language barrier.  Not surprisingly, we had a great time together.  (Side note for you, Cecilia: you made a guest appearance in the lesson via my laptop screensaver!  I got to tell Mao that you are my best friend and you play horn too!).  

After my lesson with Mao, I hopped in the van with the fellows.  We drove two hours outside of the city to Carora (note: this is an extremely hard word for a gringa like me to pronounce).  Carora is a stunningly beautiful and quaint pueblo.  Once again, we were joyfully put to work immediately upon arrival.  Carlos and I got to work with the wind ensemble for a short while before taking the trumpeters and hornist out for a sectional.  They requested to work on technique, which was no surprise to us; however, we opted to take a different approach and work on buzzing and sound production.  The young hornist had never had a horn teacher before, and I felt lucky to pass on any knowledge that I could in the short time I had with him.

Students at Carora

After the sectional, everyone went to full orchestra rehearsal.  Diogo was the celebrity of the day, conducting the orchestra through a rousing rendition of Mambo, followed by the ever popular Venezuela.  After this rehearsal, all of the fellows were treated like royalty.  All of the students wanted photos with us individually.

 Carlos getting mauled by small children

New friends from Carora

Wednesday, the fellows split into groups and dispersed ourselves throughout Lara.  Some went back to Corora; others went to Tamaka; Elise stayed at the conservatory; and Carlos and I returned to Santa Rosa.  This time we worked with the horns, trombones and 1 trumpet.  As the students were unpacking their instruments and music, I José Victor had something new with him: a thick white binder stuffed full of music.  He went above and beyond Carlos' request.  He made artwork for the cover.  He put in a table of contents.  Every piece of music was organized alphabetically, complete with tabs to separate the pieces.  All of the music was in clear plastic to keep it from blowing away, as they rehearse outside.  We were stunned.

We made another trip to the dulceria after rehearsal.  José Victor joined us.

He definitely ate the whole thing.

Thursday was the most profoundly emotional day for me.  We spent the afternoon at the conservatory being treated to a workshop and performance by the Coro de Manos Blancos (White Hands Chorus).  This choir is for individuals with special needs, ranging from blindness to autism to motor disabilities to deafness.  Everything about this was astounding.  I plan on writing a longer blog entry within the next few days about this experience.  All I'll say for now is that none of us were shy with our tears this particular afternoon.

Friday was my favorite day of the week for many reasons.  For starters, I decided to get in my morning practice session on the roof of our hotel.

This was my view.  And yes, I obviously played the Short Call.

In the afternoon, Carlos, Xochitl, Monique and I returned to Santa Rosa one last time.  Carlos and I had our biggest brass section yet: 4 horns, 5 trumpets, 3 trombones and a euphonium.  Carlos conducted them while I ran around adjusting hand positions and playing along with the students struggling with harmonies.  The last hour was spent in full orchestra rehearsal, where Carlos conducted and I jumped in to play along with the kids.  At the end of rehearsal, the nucleo director and all of the children thanked us deeply for sharing with them.  We thanked them in return, though I doubt I can express the impact the Santa Rosa nucleo had on me.  To experience kids with such hunger to learn in a seemingly constant state of joy is something I will never forget.  Even though I could barely talk to them, they showed me so much love and appreciation.  Wherever I end up in June, I want my nucleo to be reminiscent of Santa Rosa.

The fellows spent the evening with our new friends from the Barquisimeto conservatory and Santa Rosa.  I received patient assistance with my Spanish, and learned how to salsa and merengue.  It was a perfect way to end a fantastic week in a beautiful city full of kind and generous souls.

We are now back in Caracas for a few days, wrapping up our trip.  We return to the US on Tuesday.  I feel like I just got here, like I just started to understand what Venezuela’s El Sistema is about.  I have so much to think about, but right now my brain can only focus on how and when to get back to this beautiful country to continue growing and learning at the source.

Venezuela Series: Joyful Inquiry

¡Hola de Barquisimeto!

By Monday at lunchtime, we had been out of Caracas for just over 24 hours.  I'll be honest- it hadn't been the best 24 hours of my life.  I'm a pretty independent person, so being in a situation where I need help to do everything is extremely frustrating.  The combination of having only a remedial grasp of the Spanish language and being a vegan in a meat-and-cheese loving country was beginning to feel completely paralyzing.  The other fellows are being fantastic and are helping me so much, but it's the fact that I NEED that help that makes me so uncomfortable.

After a morning of incomprehension and an awkward lunch, I returned to the Barquisimeto conservatory feeling pretty useless.

Then, I met Mao.

I was walking around trying to figure out where to go when I walked past a young man practicing horn in a corner of the nucleo.  He greeted me, and exploded with joy when he saw a horn on my back.  We began to try to speak to each other.  His English is about as good as my Spanish.  We exchanged some pleasantries, but I was concerned that if I stayed and talked with him for too long I would lose the group and not know where to go, so I continued on my way.  Within a few minutes, I learned that I still had about a half hour before any classes started up again.  I heard Mao playing the 1st horn part to the trio from Beethoven's 3rd symphony.  Obviously, I couldn't resist.  I returned to where he was practicing, took my horn out of its case, and asked him if I could play the 2nd part along with him.  He excitedly agreed, but was quite nervous to be playing with me.  We played the passage together a few times, eventually switching parts.  He asked me if I could play some of Richard Strauss' 1st horn concerto for him, so I did.  Then he played some of Mozart's 1st horn concerto for me.  He sounded great, but nervous.  I played it for him, over-exaggerating the phrasing to show him that he could be more expressive.  He understood, and played it again.  It was significantly better.  We then moved on to a book of duets I had with me.  His nervousness began to subside.  Sometimes, techniques would come up in the duets with which Mao had trouble.  He would ask me how to fix them.  I would demonstrate different techniques, and he would try them.  It took a while, but when we got to lip trills I was even able to communicate to him that it took me years to be able to be able to do them, and that I got there by practicing them slowly and moving the metronome marking up one click per day.  We played together for nearly 2 hours; I only ended our session because I was afraid I was supposed to be somewhere else.

I also learned a little bit about Mao as a person.  He's 18 years old.  He actually attends a different nucleo in Lara, and was just at the Barquisimeto nucleo for the afternoon to practice.  He's a university student- I didn't quite grasp his major, but it's something to do with numbers.  He's only been playing horn for a year, though you'd never guess it by how good he sounds.

Mao was also the embodiment of gratitude.  He hugged me about every 10 minutes.  He told me over and over how happy he was to be playing with me, and that my teaching was like magic.  When we were finished, he asked me if he could make copies of the duets we had been playing.  We went across the street to make the copies, and he had me write a message to him on the first page (in English, thankfully).  We took several pictures together.

Mao and Me at the Barquisimeto Conservatorio

This gratitude is common from every student I've encountered in Venezuela.  They are all so gracious for every ounce of help they are given.  This appreciation is a result of their insatiable hunger for education, for improvement, for music.  I have yet to come across an apathetic student.  They will try anything to improve, and are exuberant while doing so.  Every learning experience is one of joyful inquiry.  No amount of information you give them is too much, no challenge too great.

When I return the to US and to teaching, my goal is to figure out how to cultivate this joyful inquiry within all of my students.  They have this figured out here, but I can't yet put my finger on exactly how they do it.  This is my goal for the remainder of the trip.

I'm so glad that I met Mao, and that I was able to make music with him and teach him a few things.  I definitely learned more from him, though.  Mao lifted my spirits with his desire to learn and his love of music.  He reminded me that all experiences can be intensely valuable when viewed through a lens of joyful inquiry.

Venezuela Series: Caracas Wrap-Up

On Thursday, we had the great fortune of meeting with El Sistema's executive director, Eduardo Mendez.  As you can imagine, Eduardo is quite a busy guy, so the fact that we got to meet with him is pretty outstanding.  He got about 10 phone calls on two different phones during our short time with him, but only answered the phone when the caller was Dr. Abreu.

Not surprisingly, this meeting was amazing.  Eduardo gave us so many insights on what El Sistema is and isn't, and how to gain the most out of our experience in Venezuela.  If I wrote my thoughts about everything he said, this entry would be 50 paragraphs long.  Here are a few gems from the conversation (expect later posts on some of these topics):

*You can't buy a teacher; you have to develop him.
*El Sistema Venezuela are NOT the "owners of the truth."  El Sistema will look different in different places.
*You cannot sacrifice quality for quantity.  It doesn't matter how many; it matters how good!  This is how transformation happens.
*Anyone can play at his or her best level.

Elaine, Elise and Xochitl before our meeting

In the afternoon we went to the nucleo in La Rinconada, an area of Caracas owned by the government.  This nucleo has three different buildings, and serves children from the ages of 2 - 18.  We observed many different sectionals and rehearsals, in an experience similar to the one we had in Montalban.

Inside one of the La Rinconada buildings

After our nucleo visit, we went back to the Center for Social Action to attend a concert by the Simon Bolivar Wind Ensemble.  The age range of this group is somewhere around 16-24.  This wind ensemble also includes full cello and bass sections, which I have never seen before.  They performed several exciting works, my favorite of which was an arrangement of Johan de Meij’s Extreme Make-Over, which is based off of several Tchaikovsky themes.  It brought back fond memories of when I performed this work with the JMU brass band several years ago, though I’ll admit my heart sank when some of the most thrilling and challenging horn parts from the original brass band version were given to the alto saxes in the wind band arrangement.

On Friday, after a morning and early afternoon full of swimming, sunshine and horn playing, I had my favorite experience in Venezuela thus far: our visit to the Sarria nucleo.  This nucleo is at an elementary school, though not all of the El Sistema children come from that specific school.  The level of playing was phenomenal.

These young trumpeters have only been playing since September.

These students have been playing their instruments for 2.5 years

After observing several sectional rehearsals, we all got our hands dirty in the beginning orchestra rehearsal, comprised of children who have only been playing their instruments since September 2012.  We were all sitting in the sections with our specific instruments, helping out where we could.  After a while, the conductor pointed to me with his baton and beckoned me to the stage to conduct the orchestra through Pomp and Circumstance.  I’m convinced the conductor somehow knew that I was the least capable fellow in the room for this task.  After a quick “hola, me llamo Rachel,” we dove in.  When we reached the end of the piece, all of the children applauded for me.  I was stunned.  Then the conductor came back on stage, and I returned to the brass section.  The trumpets and horns had only learned the introduction to the piece, and were sitting and listening intently to the rest of the orchestra after they had played through the part they knew.  Carlos decided to take over the trumpet part, and I followed suit on the horn part.  This did not go unnoticed by the rest of the orchestra.  Once again, when we reached the end of the piece, the entire orchestra turned to the brass section and applauded Carlos and me.  At the end of rehearsal, girls from the violin section ran up to me to hug me.

My new friends in Sarria

I left this nucleo feeling so loved and appreciated, even though I was barely able to communicate verbally with any of the students.  They were so hungry for musical help, and so loving and affectionate.  The “vibe” at this nucleo cannot be put into words, but the fellows left feeling amazing and yearning to spend more time there.

Most of the nucleos around Caracas were taking the day off on Saturday for various reasons, so Rodrigo took advantage of the free time to show us around.  We went to the top of La Avila, which is the highest mountain in Caracas.  The view from up there is breathtaking.

After a great walk, we stopped for lunch in a nearby town.  One of the best things about Venezuela is the juice.  Every restaurant has several different kinds of natural juices, which taste infinitely better than our chemical-laden juices in the US.

Strawberry, Blackberry and Peach Juices

We wrapped up this beautiful day with a concert of Verdi arias by the Simon Bolivar orchestra and guest vocalists.  This is not the same Simon Bolivar orchestra that tours the world, but is comprised of the more senior members of El Sistema: “Abreu’s kids."  It was an honor to be present in the audience, and to bear witness to the product of Abreu’s early years of building orchestras around the country.

Thus ends a fantastic week in Caracas.  I am posting this blog next to a sleeping Elaine and Monique in our hotel room in Barquisimeto.  I’ve been told that there is amazing brass playing happening in this city, so I am extremely excited for what lies ahead.

See you in a few weeks, Caracas!

Venezuela Series: martes y miércoles

Tuesday was the day we have been waiting for all year: our first visit to a Venezuelan nucleo.  We spent the afternoon at the Montalban nucleo, on the west side of Caracas.

This nucleo houses 16 different ensemble programs for around 2000 kids between the ages of 3 - 18.  We observed a variety of classes, including general music for the 3-4 year olds, a cello class, a beginning violin class, choir, woodwind and brass sectionals, the youth orchestra string sectional and youth orchestra winds sectional.  

Eight horns for Tchaikovsky 4? Of course!

My main take-away of the day occurred in the beginning violin sectional.  This group of approximately 40 children, somewhere between the ages of 6 - 9, just began their studies four months ago.  Bow holds have been mastered, and after working exclusively with open strings for a few weeks, they have started utilizing the fingerboard.  They are working on the most basic concepts of violin playing, performing very simple tunes.  During the rehearsal of one of these songs, the instructor paused to express to the students the importance of presence and emotion during performance.  She told them, "you need to know how to draw a smile from the audience."  The connection with the audience and the meaning behind why they are playing music is taught to these kids at the same time as the fundamentals of basic musicianship.  It's no wonder why the Simon Bolivar orchestra is so captivating: they learn to convey an energy and a love for what they do from the very beginning.  They know that the performance isn't just about what happens on stage.

Wednesday morning was spent at Caracas' Centro Academico de Luthería, which is the main training school for El Sistema luthiers.  Housed in a vocational school, the workshop is run by El Sistema luthiers who teach students between the ages of 14-26 how to build and repair orchestral and traditional Venezuelan string instruments.  Once the students are certified- which takes an average of two years- they are then hired by El Sistema to either work for one of its 30 existing instrument workshops, or to start a new instrument workshop in an area of the country that doesn't yet have one.

Inside the Centro Academico de Luthería

We got to talk to many of the luthiers and apprentices, who were extremely gracious in sharing their expertise with us.  The highlight of the morning was when four of the luthiers performed for us, which resulted in an impromptu dance lesson for Monique and me (stay tuned for videos once Carlos gets his blog up and running!).

Wednesday afternoon was spent at another branch of the Academico de Luthería.  This particular site is a pilot program in partnership with the Venezuelan Foundation for the Cure of Paralysis.  All twelve students in this nucleo have varying degrees of limb paralysis.  At this center, the students learn how to make and repair bows, as well as complete basic repair on string instruments.  Just as with the other academies, once the students are certified they are employable.  

This partnership is a lovely realization of El Sistema's ability to create equal opportunities for access and inclusion.  The luthier at this shop had never worked with students with physical disabilities; he learned how to do so on the job.  This required him to learn how to do all of his work sitting down, as his students have to do.  He also fashioned special tools to aid his students who have hand impairments, and came up with games and exercises for them to build dexterity in their hands.

It's important to note that the main cause of lower limb paralysis in Venezuela is gunshot wounds, followed by traffic accidents.  Most of the students at this academy received their paralysis through a traumatic experience.  With that in mind, the luthier explained to us that while he is not a therapist, this nucleo serves as a sort of group therapy for the students.  It gives them a supportive social network and a trade.  In alignment with the words of the luthier, all of the students present expressed their joy and gratitude for the opportunity to be involved in the program.  Several of the students travel two hours one-way just to get to the center every day.

What a beautiful embodiment of everyone's favorite fundamental of El Sistema: Every human being has the right to a life of dignity and contribution.

The rest of this week in Caracas includes a meeting with El Sistema's executive director and additional key staff, 3 nucleo visits and endless beauty.  Stay tuned!

I am being spoiled rotten.

Venezuela Series: Day 1

¡Hola!

I'm writing this post safe and sound from the comfort my hotel room in the Euro Building.  Apparently there are a lot of people staying here this week, and all of the twin bed rooms were taken; thus, we each have a room to ourselves during our stay!

Yesterday was a long but exciting day of travel.  We all arrived at Logan Airport around 2:30PM EST.  The exhilaration was already tangible.

Clearly, this is Carlos' "excited" face

Our first flight to Houston was delayed due to snowy and icy conditions, though none of us seemed to care too much: we knew better weather was just around the corner.  I was lucky enough to be seat buddies with the lovely Xochitl Tafoya, with Heath, Monique and Elise just across the aisle.

This was also my last Instagram blast from the US

After a long but smooth flight, we touched down in Houston.  We were looking forward to a mere 3 hour layover since our previous flight had been delayed, but no such luck: the flight to VZ was delayed as well.  Heath kept us entertained with a quiz on the Oscars, which he conveniently happened to win and therefore didn't have to follow up with the prize he was promising.  At around 1AM CST, we were finally en route to Venezuela.

I have no recollection of the flight to Caracas, as I was passed out the entire time.

Upon arriving at the airport and sailing through customs, we were met by the smiling face of Rodrigo Guerrero, El Sistema's International Affairs Officer and personal assistant to Dr. Abreu.  We made the journey from the airport to the hotel in a mammoth-sized van, being completely overwhelmed by the beauty all around us.

The view from my hotel room.  Not bad.

After a nice lunch at the hotel, Rodrigo met us again and took us to Caracas' Center for Social Action Through Music.  This building has only been operating for two years.  Filled with practice rooms, small and large rehearsal spaces, performance venues, masterclass rooms, libraries and computer labs, approximately 2500 kids and young adults utilize this nine-story building every day.

The upper photo is the stage of the Simón Bolívar Hall, which is the largest performance space in the building, seating 800.  The lower photo contains the hall's comfortable and eye-catching seats.  Did I mention that all performances in this space are free?  Oh yeah, and the view from the 9th floor isn't so bad, either.

Is this real life? Who am I to deserve this experience?!

While the nature, architecture and scope of the Center for Social Action is breathtaking in itself, the truest form of beauty happened in our candid discussion with Rodrigo in an office space (which, of course, doubles as a rehearsal room) inside of the building.  We were talking about El Sistema's developing stages of assessment and evaluation to gain hard data revealing the program's success.  Monique asked Rodrigo to speak not of numbers, but what it was that made him believe the program was working in terms of strengthening communities.  He told us a story of a doctor in Barquisimeto who grew up in El Sistema playing the trumpet.  While he did not pursue music as a career, he valued the importance of music and El Sistema in the lives of the people in his community.  Barquisimeto is also home to one of the larger sistema programs for children with special needs, including deaf children.  Over the past several years, this particular doctor has arranged for deaf students from the nucleo to receive cochlear implants FOR FREE.  The doctors and nurses donate their time, and the cochlear implant manufacturers donate the devices.  This is how Rodrigo knows the system is working.  It has nothing to do with improved grades or school attendance (though the numbers do stack up in those categories); it's about the impact sistema has on molding citizens who care about their communities.  It's about creating a culture of love, respect and service.

After only a day, I find myself completely inspired and renewed.  I look forward to the coming days of conversation, observation and pedagogy.  Tochar y luchar!

Peacemaking and First Horn Playing

Throughout the year, the fellows have been lucky enough to receive a series of classes focused on leadership from NEC president Tony Woodcock.  A theme that popped up on a number of occasions in these classes was the concept of leading like a great second horn player.  This obviously resonated with me, not only because I am a horn player, but because the second seat is my favorite.  I love the fourth chair too, but there is just something about sitting second that challenges and inspires me every time.

The main job of the second hornist is to make sure the first hornist sounds like a million bucks.  If the first horn player is 10 cents sharp, the second hornist had better be 10 cents sharp too!  The second hornist must also be able to match the first hornist's note length, volume, articulation, and phrasing.  She must know the first horn part and player intimately.  Eventually the second hornist develops an intuition, and can anticipate how her first horn will play a certain passage.  This perfect union between horns 1 and 2 is also essential for the accuracy in intonation, blend and style for the remaining members of the section.

I'm a second hornist, musically and personally.  I'm uncomfortable in the principal chair.  I've never liked the spotlight.  My favorite thing to do is help other people shine, which would explain why I love teaching so much.  I believe my purpose in life is to love everyone, and in turn to let everyone know that they are loved by someone.  I'm not always successful at this, but I do try my best.

My second horn-ness is apparently noticeable to other people, too.  In a recent group exercise, the fellows had to come up with a word or metaphor to describe each person's role within the group.  Some people ended up with cool metaphors like "Galileo" and "Friendly Wise Goose" (100 points to you if you can figure out who that is!).  Mine was simple: "Peacemaker."  This made me incredibly happy.  That's exactly who I want to be, not just in the fellowship, but throughout all aspects of my life.

The next task of this same exercise was to come up with a word or metaphor representing a quality of which the fellows would like to see more from each person.  My amigos were trying to think of some way to express that they wanted me to feel free to stir things up a little more often, rather than always keeping the peace.  My dear fellow Diogo found a way to express this with which everyone agreed: "More first horn!"

This fit in with the theme of this year: step out of your comfort zone and do something completely different.  How do I do this?  How do I continue to embody my second horn harmonious and peacemaking values while not being afraid to take the lead and set the tone every now and then?  There was a point in time in my life when I played a lot of first horn (literally and figuratively).  I liked it then, and thought I was doing a good job.  Looking back, I was actually doing a terrible job and had no idea what I was doing.  What can I change now to make sure that I know I'm doing it well?

As I embark on this journey to Venezuela, I feel like I am further out of my comfort zone than ever.  I'm getting ready to go to South America for the first time, to a country where I don't speak the language, all the while trying to figure out my role in Sistema in the US as a musician, educator and leader.  I'm equally excited and nervous.  I can only hope to come home with a heightened sense of clarity and purpose (and a completed lecture-recital text, but that's another topic entirely).  Perhaps all of these exciting and unfamiliar experiences will help me channel my inner first horn, too.

Getting Comfortable in the Grey Space

Today's post is a bit of a change of pace.  It's not a direct report on all things music and sistema, but instead a more detailed and honest look at the scary inner workings of my brain.

I'm an all-or-nothing thinker.  I always have been, and probably always will be.  All-or-nothing thinking (also known as polarized thinking) consists of looking at things in absolute, black-and-white categories with no middle ground.  It's sort of the "second place is the first loser" mentality; you're either perfect, or you're nothing.

I'm acutely aware that polarized thinking is my default setting, for better or for worse.  Though it may sound like an unhappy place to be mentally, it does have its usefulness- it keeps me working really, really hard all of the time.  I want to be a horn player.  I want to be an El Sistema program director.  I want to be a teacher.  I want to be a scholar.  I want to be an innovative, entrepreneurial musician.  I want to have it all, and I want to do all of it extremely well.  I never want to be anything but perfect, because anything less is failure.  (As an aside, this is why my blog posts are so sparse.  Try to find a typo in any of my entries.  I dare you.)

The other fellows and I are all considering many great opportunities for next year.  Some are concrete employment options with other candidates applying for the same position.  Others are really great projects waiting to be realized, currently only existing in theoretical space.  Additional part time jobs are available, allowing ample time for freelancing and other music making.  All are great options, and all allow us to follow our passion.  However, at this point in time, none of these are black and white opportunities; they are all in grey space.  Grey space doesn't exist in my default setting.  With all of these grey options, how can I be expected to make a decision? More urgently, how can I get through the anxiety of the next several months caused by not knowing where I will end up?

This is my biggest struggle this year. As a black and white thinker, I don't do well with theoretical opportunities or with having to wait and see what happens. Grey space makes my skin crawl, my heart race, and my brain speed into overdrive.  I'm a fairly spontaneous person, but when it comes to my career I want solid and stable answers.  Grey space makes me feel like I am directionless, like I will not be able to accomplish anything if everything remains unclear and undecided. 

I haven't come up with any magic answer for this yet.  I'm trying to be patient and take the advice of wise people. I received a particularly useful nugget of wisdom from President Obama's inauguration speech on MLK day: "We must act, knowing that our work will be imperfect." Another wise (though slightly less famous) man, Rey Ramirez from Soundscapes in Newport News, provided the Breaking the Fourth Wall conference attendees with these words of hope in Philadelphia: "We're changing the world just by being here."

Grey space has come up in conversation a number of times lately, ranging from career goals to cultural considerations to personal life.  Though it's uncomfortable for me, I'm learning that most situations are nowhere close to black-and-white; there is usually an infinite amount of grey space in between, leaving plenty of room to celebrate small victories, learn from minor setbacks, and give people the benefit of the doubt.

So, the wait continues. We are all working hard to figure out where we will end up six months from now, while simultaneously striving to build community through love and music. We're getting as comfortable as we can, believing that the world can be improved even when we're operating from the depths of the grey spaces.