"Don't Assume Anything" (Part 4 of 4)

This is part four of a four part series that chronicles three major tenets of my personal (non-academic) experience. I've developed three new primary mantras. First, “Do it, for you, because you want to.” The second--I’ve learned it’s best to say, “I don’t know,” when referring to my future if I really don't. Finally, I’ve learned that assuming anything is probably the number one error that students can make. So the last is, “Don’t assume anything.”

This entry clarifies the third tenet. “Don’t assume anything.”

My mom and friends were right when they said I wouldn’t know unless I tried. There are so many opportunities of which I could have taken advantage. I was sure that I’d enjoy the experience in DC, but I didn’t think that I’d become this completely new person taking back personalities, inspirations, and impressions that I will not forget from the “big” city.

I learned a lot about myself. I didn’t think that I was such a good dancer until the crowds at Rock and Roll Hotel, Apex, Town, JR’s and DC9 told me so. However, I guess the biggest revelation about myself is...well, I’ll just tell you a story. (I’m sort of teary eyed—jk!) This is the last one.

Monday and Tuesday (April 28th-29th) was the national high school poetry recitation competition with upwards of $80,000 dollars of scholarships at stake. This competition, Poetry Out Loud (http://www.poetryoutloud.org/news/nationalfinals.html) was held at the George Washington University’s Lisner Auditorium. I was there for most of the day running errands and assisting with the National Endowment for the Arts media table. It was really interesting to see these kids from all over the nation (50 states and 2 jurisdictions) compete. It wasn’t so much that I was interested in who won, but I was freakin’ inspired to go stick my face in a poetry anthology.

Later than night, I met friends from my Johns Hopkins class. Of course I look up to these folks who will be graduating from the graduate Government program. We talked about all kinds of stuff, from our challenges with academic lives entering our personal lives, etc. This was a couple of hours before my night class with them. In class each student then presented his or her research about the nonprofit world per our assignment to either design our own nonprofit organization or to research an existing one.

I got home that night (left the house at 8:00 AM, home at 10:00 PM) and just felt completely exhausted. The last thing I wanted to do was sit at the computer and flesh out more thoughts. I wanted to be thoughtless. But, I couldn’t. Although I was tired and just completely not in the mood for any more cerebral activity, I felt compelled to talk to my roommate about the course of the day. I said, “Andrew, I know what I’d like to do for the rest of my life.” It was sort of odd because he’s so quiet and I’m totally not. I run into the apartment, like I used to do the music studies department, and would be hyped to tell anyone who would listen about my day so far. I, too, listen well.

That day was extremely exhausting, yes, but I was interested in every aspect of the day. I enjoyed helping with the students in the competition. I felt inspired by their passion with what they were doing. Well, I guess I’d be passionate about potentially winning $20,000 from just reciting a few stanzas as well. Shoot, get me a poem and let me try. Okay?

I also enjoyed talking about the challenges in academia and listening to lectures by colleagues in this class. I found all of this really, really interesting.

“I want to teach,” Andrew heard me say. Of course the generic questions came afterwards.

“What subject do you want to teach?”
“What age level?”
“Why?”

I didn’t have polished answers exactly. I did, however, know that I was listening to myself and well...I didn’t assume the worst about teaching. I just knew I wanted to teach.

I will return to the University of Memphis a completely different person. If nothing else, the internship allowed me to listen to my interests and get a sense of what it’s like to exist in a 9-5:30 world. It’s different from school--completely different. You get up in the morning and know about what you’re going to do from day to day. If I can help students navigate through these times of transition and attempt to shed a light on what they will face in the world’s workforce, then I will gladly take on the challenge. I’ve just got some specifics to work out.

Have a conviction and run towards it with open arms.

I challenge you.

Just say "I don't know" if you don't. (Part 3 of 4)

This is part three of a four part series that chronicles three major tenets of my personal (non-academic) experience. The primary three new mantras are, “Do it, for you, because you want to,” say “I don’t know” when you really don’t and finally "don't assume anything," because I’ve learned that assuming anything about anyone or any topic is probably the number one error that many students, myself included, can make.

This entry clarifies the second tenet....saying “I don’t know” when you don’t.

Why is it so hard to just say, “I don’t know” when people ask you what you want to do in the future? It’s the question of questions that make us really want to crawl and hide when we’re not sure. I actually had a conducting professor back at the university that required us to delete this phrase from our vocabulary. We couldn’t say, “I don’t know,” we had to say that “we weren’t sure.” Whatever. The point is, “I don’t know.”

However, we do know what we like. We know our dislikes. We still have dreams, but it seems they sometimes get lost between guidance counselors’ warnings, declaring a major and reading about salary outlooks and demand rates for various professional fields. Should I consider my standard of living when I’m contemplating further education? Do I think about my marketability first when I select a field, etc.? Well, my advice is this. Understand that you and your interests matter. You have to get up in the morning and go to work. You may rock out some Gabana’s, but if you honestly “hate” your job, are you taking advantage of the time you have? There’s not much of it, so hopefully you’ll find a way to for your dreams and your livelihood fit to coexist in your career scheme.

You’re doing it. You’ve got interests. Your true interests matter despite the odds. Go for it whatever it may be. And if you still don't know what "it" is, keep reflecting, soul-searching and adjusting your direction as you go along.

"Do it for you, because you want to." (Part 2 of 4)

This is part two of a four part series that chronicles three major tenets of my personal (non-academic) experience. First, “Do it, for you, because you want to.” The second--I’ve learned it’s best to say, “I don’t know,” when referring to my future if I really don't. Finally, I’ve learned that assuming anything is probably the number one error that students can make. So the last is, “Don’t assume anything.”

This entry clarifies the first tenet. “Do it, for you, because you want to.”

It was my initiative that got me to DC in the first place. I wanted to come here, and although I kept going back and forth about my purpose in doing so, I kept making headway to get here and now that I've been here, I have honestly enjoyed the experience. No, this program doesn't fit directly within my undergraduate degree program. I’m a clarinet performance major, but I know that in the future I have an interest in arts organization management. The National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) is definitely the nation’s most generous arts granter and the educational resources at the agency are unlimited. I met directors of the various disciplines and sat in on meetings and panels pertaining to specific grant awards (even before the general public knew about them).

The internship with the NEA indirectly put me in touch with several other opportunities, from potential employment to what I’m considering for this summer. I made a contact with an NEA employee for this summer’s internship program with the Arts and Business Council of New York where I’ll be working with the National Public Radio affiliate WNYC in cultural development and event planning. This internship with the Council’s Emerging Arts Leaders program will have direct correlations with what I want to do. While at NEA I was able to see grant proposals and develop a perspective on what is considered progressive arts programming, etc. Not to mention that I had prime access to the Nancy Hanks Lecture on Arts Advocacy at the Kennedy Center, and I’ll actually be involved as a planning volunteer for the Philadelphia conference hosted by the Americans for the Arts this June.

You can never underestimate your own personal interests for what others tell you what you should or need to do. I found myself attending lectures hosted by Idealist.org, Center for American Progress Action Fund, and opened myself up to new things as well that I may not have been encouraged to attend. To others, I “should” be doing thing x or seeing event z, but because I’ve followed my own preferences and listened to what I, Kofi Martin, wanted to do, I began embarking on independence. Independence is not granted with just the degree (especially when even that is mostly exploratory), nor is it even the first career-oriented job. Independence has to be a state of mind.

Honestly, the tendency you’ll want to combat is to lie to yourself. Just stop it, it’s that easy.

Overall experience (Part 1 of 4)

The experience in DC could have been mimicked anywhere else. TWC creates interesting courses, the program is organized and the opportunities to see the nation’s capital city were great additives. However, this was only part of the appeal. The only factor that resulted in making this experience special for me was my own initiative. I remember the first day, during the intern orientation. We were told that we should definitely only use our apartments for, well, sleeping.

I couldn’t agree more.

For me, this experience provided me a sense of mental silence from the very, very, emotionally loud environment that I, and most other twentysomethings, “hear.” We’re thrown in so many directions. “You should look into this,” and, “Oh, I know the perfect next step for you,” and oddly enough, “So, what are you going to do with that?!” if our majors don’t sound trade or career trajectory oriented. Students need the opportunity to hear themselves. If only this could be silenced so that the unsure, such as myself, can learn to listen to themselves.

I’ve never been completely alone in making any major decisions. This seems to be a recurring theme in my previous blogs, this lack of “adult” experience, but it’s because it’s true. I have always lived on or at least close to campus.

I’ve been protected.

Several of my friends hold outside jobs while in school. Thanks to scholarships, etc., this wasn’t a necessity exactly for me. I wanted this faux independent experience.

In DC, it has been a little different. I’ve had the late nights, late papers, neglected cell phone, Facebook, work and mental fatigue and moments when I just didn’t get time to finish things. I had to decide to either sleep or be sleepy when I needed to work. Working from 9-5:30 with evening classes twice a week, it gets a little tough. I’ve never really experienced challenges when time use was a factor in the challenge if you exclude standardized testing. It has always been the issue of me procrastinating because I’ve had so much time between assignments that I’d rather do something the morning of so that it stays fresh on the mind. During this program, you have to do it now or else it’ll be a week late. It’s these sort of experiences, not to forget to mention the overnighters, that have allowed me a completely new perspective.

I've developed three new primary mantras. First, “Do it, for you, because you want to.” The second--I’ve learned it’s best to say, “I don’t know,” when referring to my future if I really don't. Finally, I’ve learned that assuming anything is probably the number one error that students can make. So the last is, “Don’t assume anything.”

These may sound trivial, but just stick with me. Check out the next entry where I discuss the importance of truly doing what you want to do. Shakespeare had it right, “To thine own self be true.”

End of semester 1

The semester is spiraling to its finish. With only three weeks left, I am certain that going back home will take some getting used to. It's not that I haven't kept in touch with people or feel that home isn't cool, but when you go to any new environment it takes a little bit of time to get back in the groove. Arkansas humidity? Okay, NOT groovy. I shouldn't even lie to myself.

Anyway, I'll want to connect with friends, tell them about the experiences—making sure I don't sound too braggy—and go to my favorite places where the employees know me by name. Some of you will be making your way to DC for the first time. It's a challenge; embrace it. More than likely you'll spend a lot of time hanging out by yourself unless you work with several interns in your specific placement or manage to connect with more people. I'm definitely not that lucky, but honestly this has done me well. I've had to go to dinners alone occasionally and I find that I'm pretty darn good in entertaining myself. Nonetheless, I'd like to recommend a few places that I've actually been to and find them great places to go alone OR with friends.

All the Smithsonian Museums and Starbucks: Get some eduMakation. They're free, why not!? I specifically liked the National Museum of Art (Warhols, Rothko, etc.,) and the National Portrait Gallery (Hip-Hop art exhibit). As for Starbucks, well if you haven't been to one by now, there's no hope for you. If you're new to drinking coffee, start with a Mocha; you can't go wrong. Okay, don't hate me because I didn't find the home grown coffee shops, but since it's easy to spot the green awnings and big beautiful white letters glistening in the distance, one must relinquish his/her "staunch" concerns for regionalism. DuPont Area: I like dancing, what can I say? I recommend Town, 9:30 club, Black Cat, Apex, Cobalt, DuPont Grill. It's a very interesting (highly liberal) area of DC and steps away from the Washington Center. There are a few eateries (Krammerbooks, DuPont Kitchen, etc.) and some along 17th street that feature WIRELESS INTERNET for free.

George Washington Library: I'm taking the collaborative course through Johns Hopkins and they provide students with a great ID card that allows you access to the resources at George Washington. I've been there many a late nights to complete assignments, etc. See also University of Maryland, American University, University of the District of Columbia, Johns Hopkins, District of Columbia Public Libraries, and Howard. There's so much information, you'll learn by osmosis...well, maybe not.

Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts: I enjoyed going to a few of the free concerts. They're every single day (YES, 365) and feature very eclectic local and international talent. I saw the George Washington Afro-Cuban ensemble, Alvin Ailey Dance Company, the National Symphony and also the Americans for the Arts Nancy Hanks Lecture.

This list could go on forever. So, if you're in need of more specific information about what to do in DC and where, feel free to drop me an email!

Kofi.martin@gmail.com

Why Classical Music Needs Rock & Roll

Finally.

I have been thinking about the future of classical music for a long, long, long time and this constant undercurrent of second-guessing the validity of my OWN medium got me looking for different career options to better a situation that young practicing musicians don't seem to recognize. Ultimately, this landed me here at the National Endowment for the Arts. In a sense, I needed to have a confirmation that just maybe the future of the arts is progressive (e.g., progressive, fresh, diverse, and most importantly relevant). I found the situation more revealing in how perhaps a rude awakening may be needed.

I got a confirmation that perhaps I'm not the only person thinking about this type of issue. Greg Sandow, a former critic for Entertainment Weekly, The Village Voice, and The Wall Street Journal, wrote an article ten years ago about the future of classical music. I found myself physically throughout reading this article and wanted to jump and scream about this perception of the classical music industry. THANK YOU! I include it here as my blog entry because this is exactly the issue that has been perplexing me this entire time.

Why Classical Music Needs Rock & Roll, essay by Greg Sandow

There's a lot of talk these days about reinventing classical music. Or maybe just reinventing its marketing, but in any case doing something to make it come alive -- and assure its survival -- in an age of O.J. Simpson and Madonna.

There's been some action, too, I know. Record companies offer classical CDs with perky cartoon covers. The three tenors have been marketed almost as a pop act. And, in an unusual but not completely atypical move, the Columbus (Ohio) Symphony -- having discovered that Harley-Davidson riders are as upscale as its usual audience -- built a marketing campaign around the joint excitement of symphonic climaxes and motorcycles.

Some of these approaches might even work, but at best they're experiments. What classical music really needs to do is step back, to attack the problem as a whole. And if anyone really wants to do that, I know the perfect place to start -- Shea Stadium, whenever the New York Mets bring in their closer, John Franco.

Picture the scene: It's the ninth inning, and Franco swaggers in from the bullpen to finish a game. The sound system blares what's virtually his theme song, Chuck Berry's "Johnny B. Goode." The crowd sings along with the famous refrain "go, Johnny, go"…and what's remarkable about all this, from a classical music point of view, is that there's nothing remarkable about it at all. We all know the song, and why wouldn't we? It's nearly 40 years old, a beloved rock & roll classic. This is the world classical music now lives in -- a world in which rock (or, more accurately, the whole range of modern rock-influenced pop, which ranges all the way from country music to hiphop) is part of the air we all breathe. How can classical music ever reach new people, if it doesn't understand the music those people already love?

So maybe classical music should learn a few things about rock & roll. And the first subject rock can teach is marketing. Pop music, everybody knows, is commercial. The classical music world deplores that of course, and might even dream that classical music could be a purer, more artistic alternative. There's only one problem (and this might be the single best proof that classical music has gotten really distant from American life): Pop music long ago developed artistic alternatives of its own.

To people who never leave the classical music ghetto, that may come as a shock, but it's absolutely true. Pop music generates commercial acts, like the intensely sleek R&B balladeer Whitney Houston. But it also produces artistic acts, like the wry, compassionate rock band R.E.M. R.E.M. qualifies as artistic because it started its career with no thought of commercial success, because its music jumps with unexpected shocks, and because its lyrics (shades of 20th century high art!) are often difficult and indirect. Against this background, how does classical music look? How would brainy pop music fans rate the three tenors? Against a pop music background, Carerras, Domingo, and Pavarotti (especially Pavarotti) look just like Whitney Houston -- safe, predictable, and bland.

That's the first marketing lesson rock & roll can teach: The pop audience already has its own ideas about art, and most certainly won't assume that classical music is artistic just because it's classical. The second lesson, which follows from the first, is that the pop music audience isn't just a single blank lump. To understand how varied it is, imagine what life would be at the Metropolitan Opera if Carmen attracted a baby-boomer crowd, La Boheme drew people in their '20s -- and, when the house did Boris Godunov, the entire audience was black. That's the diversity you see if you go to pop concerts every night, though the divisions go much further, as fans fragment not just by age and race, but by social class and even lifestyle. So if the classical music world wants to reach a pop audience, it has to know which pop audience it means. R.E.M., by now, sells millions of albums. (Which, by the way, ought to remind us that America today isn't just O.J. and Madonna. It's also a land of environmental activism, psychotherapy, Republicans in Congress, and a thousand other serious things classical music doesn't seem to know about.) Why isn't classical music talking to R.E.M.'s audience? Why isn't it talking to rock fans with brains?

And now for the third lesson. Pop marketing isn't infallible. Some people in classical music seem to think it is, as if pop marketers were sinister puppeteers, and as a result can sell anything to anybody. But that's not even remotely so. Look at Michael Jackson, look at Prince, look at Bruce Springsteen, all superstars who don't sell nearly as many albums as they used to. All the marketing in the world can't bring their careers back.

What pop marketing does shine at, though, is something classical music marketers rarely seem to think about, something the commercial world might call "product differentiation." Pop marketers assume that every artist is (or ought to be) different. Maybe that's hype, half the time, but on the other hand it's based on something real -- the undeniable fact that most pop music artists write their own songs. They have ideas and thoughts of their own (or at least they think they do), and pop music marketing is designed to make us believe in their individuality.

It does that in every possible way, starting with the art -- striking, contemporary, sometimes haunting and evocative -- on CD covers, and ranging down to tiny details like the look of the CD itself, and the language and design of every press release. What, in contrast, does classical marketing convey? Does it tell us what makes one conductor (or pianist, or soprano, or string quartet) different from the others? With very few exceptions, it doesn't even begin to do that, and if savvy pop fans conclude that classical music has nothing to offer…well, can you blame them? In a pop context, the main message classical marketing delivers is that classical music has nothing to say.

How can we fix this? In the short run, it's more or less easy (in principle, at least). Classical music has to be marketed like pop, which paradoxically means presenting it more artistically. (It could even mimic pop's implicit two-tier system, by selling Pavarotti as a pop-music bimbo, and a refined cellist like Yo Yo Ma as an artist.)

But in the long run, classical musicians themselves have to change. If they communicate as eagerly and pointedly as the best of their pop counterparts, it won't be hard to make the world notice. What that would be like is hard to predict, of course, but rock & roll can at least offer a couple of hints. Take concerts, for instance. Outside the classical music world, everybody knows what happens at a concert. People -- distinct individuals -- come out on stage. They're wearing clothes that makes them happy. They talk to the audience, joke with it, and very often share some serious thoughts about war or tolerance. And if they sing a sad song, they'll turn the lights down, not necessarily because they're trying to manipulate our feelings, but because (and especially in a big hall) it just doesn't make sense to sing a ballad in the same bright glare that suits a hard-rocking cheerful song.

Here, it seems to me, classical music has absolutely no choice. To the world at large, the stiff formality of a classical concert doesn't suggest dignity or art. It conveys just one thing: Utter blankness. Who are these performers? What are they thinking about? Do they even like doing this? You can forget about selling classical music, until you make classical concerts something your prospective audience would recognize as a musical event.

And from here on out, things get adventurous. Everyone in the classical music world knows that classical masterpieces grew -- distantly, but distinctly -- from folk-music roots. Or at least they'd agree that the great classical composers could incorporate folk songs in their works, with results that sounded completely natural and didn't make anyone think they'd betrayed their art.

Today, the musical roots of our culture aren't in folk songs. They're in rock, country, rhythm and blues -- the entire range of musical styles that typify pop music in the rock & roll era (even rap). Classical music won't seem natural in America until both composition and performance reflect that obvious fact. How composers can do this is simple enough, and some of them are doing it. They can embed the sound of rock in their work, along with traits of any other musical style they love.

For performers, of course, the job is much trickier, though are one or two very specific things that current pop can teach. One of these is vocal ornamentation -- singers of past centuries embellished the music they sang, and while the tradition of doing that in classical music died long ago, it lives on in R&B, as anyone knows who's ever heard an R&B star add fanciful twists and turns to the national anthem at a sports event.

But most of the classical repertoire is hard to connect to current pop. Would we add a drum track to Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony? But the spirit of rock, at least, can suggest an idea or two. Beethoven's music once was contemporary. How can we understand what that felt like, unless we know the contemporary music of our own time, which -- if we're talking about music that connects to the spirit of its age the way Beethoven's did -- would have to be rock?

Reality Check: New Arts Advocacy

What's the point in Arts Education? Since reading Daniel Pink's "A Whole New Mind: Why Right Brainers Will Rule The Future," I have a completely different perspective. I would normally say the arts enoble our spirits and also enhance our receptibility to the math and sciences as artist education requires commitment, excellence, and careful attention to detail. Well, this is great, but there might be another perspective that would better dispel any doubt.

Understand that the left brain, which is known to be more analytical and sequential, works simultaneously with the right brain which deals with larger picture and uses more "currents" for creativity and innovation. It's essential to know that both parts of the brain work equally, but certain aptitude tests (e.g., ACT, SAT) actually measure only one sort of skill set. Usually students who are more adept in those skills are considered "better" students when in actuality they simply have stronger impulses and are mentally leftists. The ability to create and think artistically should not be considered less than important. This is the foundation of Pink's book.

Pink uses three key shifts in our society as a means to develop his thesis about the power of the right brained: Abundance, Asia, and Automation. We are a society of abundance with so many different options on life supplies that it will take multidisciplinary arts related skills to develop the "best" products. Asia is where the majority of American's routine work is going; outsourcing to India is the most prevalent. Pink even made a reference to routine work actually becoming completely obsolete in the States. There is no need for a divorce lawyer, go online. There is no need for a tax specialist, go online or buy software to do it for you. Many calculations that accountants were needed for are now simply algorithms fully available via personally accessible technology--automation. So where will these jobs go that many left brained academicians are headed? Will the assessment change for students whose acumen is geared more towards right oriented skills?

Essentially, Pink says that right brained skills are great for future leaders as innovation in all of these areas will be required to keep up with competing economies. I had the pleasure to meet Mr. Pink this past weekend at the Americans for the Arts annual Nancy Hanks Lecture on Arts and Public Policy at the Kennedy Center. It was fascinating to see so many local tributary organizations in support of such an international cause: the support for arts education. I also met John Legend and Kerri Washington, oh AND Robert Redford at the Appropriations Subcommitte Hearing for the Interior. They all testified in support of this very issue.

Hmm, maybe the MFA is the new MBA!

Reality Check: Self Love

The people we encounter that make a positive difference in the way we live our lives imprint something that is a permanent mark on our "life mural." You and I have one. We're born with this beautiful white space. It may be different in shape, or size, and even clarity, but essentially our palette is the same. The more we live, the more shades of color and brush strokes diversify the picture that takes a lifetime to develop. There is no one-hour development option. But, there's that one person that seems to have a very special addition to our works of art. Jake transformed my palette and made it three-dimensional. Up to that point, I wasn't completely sure of what there was to see. Others' strokes were in their appropriate place, as teachers and adult mentors should, but no other youth made an affect on my image like Jake.

It's late. I've wrestled with a topic all week and I keep getting back to the idea of Kofi –me. This probably sounds completely ludicrous, but it's true. I usually write or at least outline ideas that I'm curious about. I have an "interest" file where I put sticky notes, printed articles, book references, and lists of issues that I want to be, not expert, but at the very least, conversational. I had plans to discuss either the importance of the arts in education, the Clinton-Obama campaign, the lack of leadership in non-profits, or the decline of love in western societies. I prepared to write a glowing paper full of my interesting theories, anecdotes and essentially bullshit. We were assigned to discuss some sort of topic that either really affected us in some way or was an introspective look at an issue. These issues and situations, I definitely have my opinions about, but opinions are like infectious diseases; there are lots of them and they don't do any of us any good, or at least not for everyone. Jake would probably roll his eyes, snap his fingers and think, "Well I don't know about you, but I'm for damn sure my opinions matter!"

In an extremely conservative southern town, Jake was ridiculed often for being "out." He and I would walk the halls and were constantly reminded that we were different. Taunts came from the very people that experienced the same classes, the same bathrooms, the same lockers, the same teachers, the same generation, the same cafeteria, the same social development, the same gymnasium, the same locker room, the same supervision, the same pep rallies, the same Prom, the same football games, the same school—but yet no matter how hard I tried, because Jake didn't give a damn, we could never ever be the same. We were the fags, the queers, the gays, the feminine boys, and I was also the white black guy, the nigger, and never black enough. Thank goodness we had friends that thought we were awesome despite these "differences." Jake, for me, was special because he was so visibly happy in his own skin. I wasn't and still continue to live up to the maturity he exhibited so much earlier.

Recently, I've been interested in my own personal emotional development. It's not the cerebral sort of concerns about my degree or career mapping, but instead this type of personal content that I rarely share. Daily my interactions affect people, as theirs do likewise, and at times I wonder if I display the uncertainty that I experience. Do I honestly love my self? "Only when you truly love yourself can you ever be able to love others," says Eric Fromm in The Art of Loving. If Jake was having an especially bad day either everyone knew about it and refrained from too much interaction, or he'd grimace privately and smile despite the odds.

I feel pretty level headed. I work diligently, but I abhor compliments and usually let them to roll off as comment over compensation. If because of competition a friendship is at stake I'd rather avoid it by purposefully doing worst. I'd declare all those competing as the winners because I don't like the idea of ranking people's achievements—or losing friends because they're my lifeline. Besides, how do I know what it took for anyone else to deliver in a given moment? Is it the process or the product? In high school, I purposefully did not want to compete in arenas where I felt the "post-competition" pressure would be too unbearable. I did, however, attend a high school with this sort of underwritten nepotism issue that manifest into isolationism. I had to be careful not the upset the powers that be, sometimes those powers were my own classmates.

Being involved with band was a completely different issue. Competition was great because of the mutual support, or "team" ideology in creating a sort of temporary democratic experience where all people (instrumentalists) were on the same level—artistry. Jake was unabashedly happy for me in every regard if I succeeded at anything. He didn't challenge whether or not I deserved the recognition. Okay, so he was a little jealous that I got to go to the Interlochen Arts Summer Institute, but only because he felt left out if I came back with stories to tell. Thank goodness I was able to share with him the pictures and memories of an unforgettable summer. Jake definitely took his acting career seriously and we both challenged each other in our commitment to our crafts. Jake was determined to succeed no matter what.

I was so jealous that he could flounce his gold locks (he had great hair, everyone told him so, he knew it) and let people's comments clog the drains. He openly debated in class, and sometimes expected my cooperation. I didn't back him up. Jake would look in my direction for mutual support, but I'd always become mute. I remember one specific incident where I actually decided to adjust my walking pace in a crowded hallway just so I wouldn't be lumped in the same category as Jake as being flamboyant or "out and proud" by association. I was insecure, and not very proud. I was ashamed.

Jake didn't wear homosexuality on his sleeve. Yes, he was obviously undoubtedly gay, but it didn't necessarily define him. It was a facet, or a different hue to his mural, if you will. But don't be fooled, he could "strut it" with the best of them. We did a few fundraising fashion shows together for our local mall's Gap and people were convinced Jake was a natural. He owned the runway stage and the actor's stage. Three times we shared this musical theater environment: Footloose, Pippin, and our community theater's production of George M! He definitely had what it took. My roles were usually minimal. It was Jake that encouraged me to put down the clarinet for a second and experience what he loved so much. I found so many similarities. It's true that all the world's a stage and everyone plays a part.

Jake made his exit too soon. We were entering out sophomore year in college; he at Arkansas State University and I at the Rudi E. Scheidt School of Music at the University of Memphis. We were definitely committed artists. I was working at the Stax Museum SNAP! Summer Camp and he was acting in ASU's Summer Children's Theater program. We talked about seeing Wicked in Memphis in the same theater where he took me to see RENT two years before. I had said it was my turn to take him out! We spoke on the phone infrequently as our collegiate years brought new experiences, different friends, and busy schedules. I vowed that I'd try my best to stay in contact with the people who were responsible for molding my characteristics and, well, me—my friends. Our plan to hang out for his birthday was our last conversation.

Jake would say some of the best one-liners and make an entire room collapse in laughter. Don't make the mistake of crossing him because he would no doubt put you in place. He quoted Hamlet and Beyonce in the same breath. He loved Karen from Will and Grace and was especially authentic in Jack's "Cher" voice. He introduced me to the Baz Luhrmann Love Trilogy: Strictly Ballroom, Romeo & Juliet and Moulin Rouge. He also took me to see Jonathan Larson's RENT for my birthday. I had never seen RENT before and Jake scoffed and we laughed and he took me to see it on my birthday.

I went to visit the hospital and it was too late. He was declared brain dead. I learned later that he was actually going to a dress rehearsal for The Elves and the Shoemaker, but he was in a car accident. He would have graduated this May (2008). His funeral was my first. The entire time I felt numb. These liquid parcels that fell on my clothes weren't enough of a response to the situation. What could I do? Jake's funeral was at least a confirmation that indeed I did at least feel the love response emotion of mourning. In music, I feel pretty emotionally sound. My performance comments from music professors usually come back with, "Wow we really understood the emotional intent," etc. It's rare that I tap into this sort of deep touch in an open display of raw emotion. Why was I crying? Jake had other friends who maybe he was closer to and I didn't want it to seem that because I cried that we were on the same level that he was with them. How dare I?

Now I know better. His example of empathy for others, the characters he created, and the friendship we shared is one of the primary sources that I try to tap into when I need to be conscious of an indefinable element of my own emotional environment. I guess maybe I review somehow my experiences with Jake as lessons in love for myself, others and craft. At Jake's funeral, actors and actresses from the Arkansas State University theater department joined and performed "Seasons of Love," from the musical RENT. The song asks,

"Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred moments so dear. Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred (525,600) minutes – how, do you measure, measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes – how, do you measure a year in the life? How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of love. 525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan. 525,600 minutes - how can you measure the life of a woman or man? In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried. In bridges he burned, or the way that she died. It's time now to sing out, tho' the story never ends let's celebrate remember a year in the life of friends.
Remember the love! Remember the love! Remember the love! Measure in love.
Seasons of love! Seasons of love."

There, I've written this assignment and I hope that this serves a purpose not only for you, but for me. It has been three years. The two of us would normally be looking for opportunities now that we finished our first degree. One idea was to move to New York. Clearly they have been waiting for such a long time. We've been in the twilight zone of our surroundings and stuck out—"out." Ha, Jake, if nothing else, taught me that it's okay to love myself. Now, even since his passing, I'm still learning to do just that.
Thanks Jake. I miss you.

Starbucks at Eastern Market 7th and G

Shaken Iced-Tea, and Banana Nut Bread Loaf

Midterm Assignment: "Who are you? Who do you want to become and how are you going to get there?

"Peaceful Solutions," a TWC course taught by Colman McCarthy, challenges my honesty and integrity about myself! That's a pretty serious observation. I enrolled in the class after doing a closer look at all the TWC course offerings. I was looking for a set of classes that would, well, first maximize my full credit status, but also reinforce one another (e.g., reading and research, etc.). After briefly flipping through the entire catalog, I narrowed it down to my preferred courses, but needed more information. All of the bios of the professors sounded really great; impressive tenure track and actual career field experience. I searched LexisNexus to seek any articles they'd published and Google'd (yes, now a proper noun-verb?) them for their current activities. Colman McCarthy had written for the Washington Post for thirty plus years and I found out he directs the Center for Teaching Peace. This class definitely made it to the top of my course requests—thankfully, I got a spot. I began reading his material and I felt completely reassured that this "Peaceful Solutions" would match well with "Non-profit Management," a Master's-level course I'm taking through TWC at Johns Hopkins University.

I was in for rude awakening because I took the class on the guise that it sounded good. For me, I was hoping for some sort enlightenment just by sitting in his midst. I thought that maybe through osmosis I'd become a great writer because I thought he'd read our writings with fury as did editors for him for thirty years. I wanted him to challenge me to read as much material as possible because I need to be "learned." You know, I think I was a little jaded in what I believed to be a good professor. It's almost embarrassing to admit this, but I thought good professors were the ones who challenged you with a lot of busy work. I definitely am familiar with the ones who don't and also feed you Powerpoint chapter summaries; aren't we all. McCarthy doesn't teach this way.

The midterm paper assignment's topic is left for us to determine. We decide the project type, the tenets, the medium—everything. I chose myself. I think it's the hardest topic to write about. I've been burdened with not wanting to sound preachy, stuck up, and self-righteous. I still am. It's due on Thursday, March 18 and I still haven't started yet. It's not easy being brutally honest with your self. It would be so easy for me to write a typical "impersonal" personal essay, but my gut says no one will care, it's way too deep and won't he just take without care, a nonchalant glance, and not consider it as serious as I? How many does he have to grade? Will he grade mine last?

You laugh, but these are the things that have been keeping me from digging deep. I'm scared to. I've never really been completely open about my views concerning my past, present and future. My responses have been somewhat programmed for those probing questions from people that probably would probably care less about you. You know, the people who walk near you, ask how you're doing and before you actually respond, they're not even in hearing distance. If you don't care, why'd you ask? JK. I don't expect McCarthy to teach me to better understand myself—I expect that from me. You see, this is an example of a great teacher (no, I'm not sucking up, he probably won't read this blog); the one who makes you think for yourself so that you self-learn.

However, I do know that my cup is empty

Reality Check: Arts Education and Technology

I broke my computer and lost my iPod.

That sentence alone could be the makings of a novel. Despite this deplorable chain of unfortunate events, I have been able to remain steadfast in being without Facebook and my music collection at my fingertips. You know this "absence" of resources is new territory for me and has made me think of my previous stance on the argument of our generation's dependency on the essentials: cell phone, laptop, some sort of portable music player, and accounts with MySpace and/or Facebook, which are now almost like political parties.

I'll admit I have been apart of two major factions about the issue. I have been on the side where people scoff of the idea of Facebooking and have said things like, "Why would people walk around with their brains in a music closet." This was most likely referring to people who go to restaurants with their iPod buds in their ears. Mind you, there is music playing in the establishment—loudly. Maybe their earphones were noise-canceling, etc., but even so wouldn't that have been a hazard?

The other side of the argument is that Facebook, and other networking sites, actually have merit because there are many positive uses: contact information, event planning, and now with the new developments on Facebook, people can do everything from buying/selling textbooks to planning student rallies. I'm serious! I advertised my Junior Clarinet Recital with Facebook. As for the iPod, it works as a major mood enhancer while completing brainless activities from jogging to even riding the Metro. Both sides of the argument have their strengths, but a bigger question is--why can't the arts deal with the use of technology if it's such a major component of the human experience?

The arts cannot compete with something that is now so imbedded in how we experience life. Instead of wasting our time being upset and persuading people not to use their equipment, maybe we should think of ways to participate. Now, I certainly don't mean to be preachy at all. I also hate that young generations are usually the root of all select problems when clearly the development of these issues has something to do with those who are responsible for us. Who might that be? Yeah, our parents and teachers! Oh, and we're totally not the only people who are a little unhealthy with our contact and protection of our cell phones. In fact, there was a Blackberry outage that ruffled the feathers of many, many business folk who even threatened with a legal action against their service providers. (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/02/11/AR2008021101947.html).

Wow, if I could file a lawsuit for all the things that irk me. I'd always be in the court room. "Ugh! You stepped on my toe on this overcrowded Metro; I'm suing you!" "Wait, what, you don't have this in a 28? You're going down; I'm calling my pro-bono!" Folks, give me a break.

Mind you, most influence comes from our media intake. How many commercials, if you admit to watching television, are geared towards us? Disclaimer: The rest of this is hopefully not to seem coming from a self-righteous technology junkie all-genre music loving musician. My craft aside, this is just my opinion laid out for you. Technology Rocks!

1. Technology offers dissemination and immersion.

There are a plethora of iTunes albums that I've purchased because I just happened to check out an iTunes only band, a friend recommended them, or I read a blurb about a group. I've also prepared for auditions from the materials that I find online; YouTube, Facebook, and other music downloading/ sampling programs have their merits for much more than stifling the record label industry. Thank you record companies for publishing CDs with little royalties to the artists, but most especially for allowing an influx of self-starters who have proved that their opinion of their own art is sufficient to share with others. With self-publishing capabilities from our desktops, now, we rule.

2. Technology expands performance opportunities.

Multi-genre performing artists and major symphony orchestras are beginning to utilize technology to enhance their work. Projects, broadcasts (podcasts), and other streaming services allows there to be substantiation to an ensemble not performing in Carnegie Hall. I could set up shop in my basement and stream anywhere making it accessible to people across the globe. This year, Michael Jackson's "Thriller" was re-released by Sony BMG. It's totally guerilla marketing, but now more people involved in this project have jobs. It's an interesting look at how arts and advertising can collaborate. Check out this story about dancers who literally perform on a Metro.

3. Technology aids in Arts Education.

I know that as a clarinetist, many musical concepts can feel very esoteric and confusing and I'm even more certain it would be mind-boggling to a non-musician. Electronic keyboards, aural and music theory can be foreign if there is no way to display examples and reiterate their definitions without hearing and experiencing the terms. Technology allows this to happen. Interactive components to encyclopedias, websites, dictionaries, and other research materials can create lifelong learners and deliver information more efficiently.

So, no, all technology isn't all bad. However, the time we spend keeps us from enjoying other enriching activities. Obviously people should find pastimes other than checking Facebook for two hours and then spending the afternoon playing Guitar Hero, but if they choose to, that's their own prerogative. Heck, I'm guilty as charged; Facebook research is a craft. Nonetheless, they (we) aren't the reason arts suffer. Should they decide to go to a symphony, and never go again, that's okay. If they never have a single arts experience, it's apparent that we've failed to make them interested. If people feel welcome and don't feel they're treading on exclusive snobby arenas, then they'll become frequent patrons. Doesn't that make sense?

I could only suggest one change. Arts education in schools is the biggest opportunity to instill in children an appreciation (not obsession, mind you) for the arts before it's too late. And, it's not just important to include the arts in the schools so that as adults the children will buy season tickets to a symphony. The aim should be to actually mold them into more sensitive beings that are competent to at least enjoy art on some level. New artists are a by-product of this process, not the primary purpose.

Dana Gioia, the chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts, mentioned something in a discussion with the University of Wisconsin-Madison Bolz Center for Business graduate students yesterday (3/12/03) that solidified my pursuit to teach music in a school. He gave us an anecdote as to why it is important to have arts courses in schools with a description of a student using art as a means of coming of age and being accepted. I've captured the essentials in the following narrative:

Imagine that Juan is a student who is smart, but not exactly completely dedicated to his studies for competitive reasons. He may even be smarter than those that received accolades for their abilities. In fact, he may underperform to purposefully not be in the limelight. He feels as if maybe people would be jealous and say negative things. He just wants acceptance. You know, this Juan could go to an extremely culturally monolithic type of school and be "odd" looking to both his peers and his teachers. Then, he finds out about the school production. He auditions, gets a part, and feels more comfortable with his surroundings. He joins a supportive community. He performs and the audience who gives him a standing ovation includes his sometimes unfair teachers and his bully classmates. For Juan, this is gaining acceptance and for once he feels like everyone else. He is a better person, a respected person, a talented person, a smarter person, a more loving person, and most of all, an artist.

Without arts in schools these opportunities are lost. Believe me, I should know. I am Juan.

Java House: Dupont Circle, 17th & P Streets

House White Mocha & Jumbo Choco-Cookie

Java House is a great pit stop near 17th and P which is very close to The Washington Center headquarters.

Doing homework at the Java House Café in the Dupont Circle business district.

Nonprofit Leadership=Self-sacrifice?

If world business leaders were on a "fierce" reality TV show and challenged in effective staff development, the panel, which would undoubtedly include a celebrity guest (me), would first say, "Nonprofit leaders, please go back to your apartment, pack your bags, and go home." It's a sad day for the nonprofit world, or so they say. The Eugene and Agnes E. Meyer Foundation, Idealist.org, CompassPointNonprofit Services, and The Annie E. Casey Foundation projected a poor future for the nonprofit sector by asking 6,000 next generation leaders about their experiences in the nonprofit world.

I've considered my future in the nonprofit sector, but the results are sobering. Should I promote a cause and potentially suffer sacrifice myself by submitting wholeheartedly? When do I begin to consider my own life development? Which comes first? Reva Price said lifestyle considerations always come first. Price, minority Advisor to Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, spoke to my Johns Hopkins Nonprofit Management course (through TWC) at the Capitol this Monday (3/3/2008) about the state of the nonprofit industry the day the Washington Post published news of this report. Price has twenty-five years of experience in the nonprofit sector. She also switched to working for the government, and stressed the importance of considering ourselves and our need for change. Price mentioned that people enter the sector with the wrong image in mind and quickly change into different careers. This is a statistical malady, I think, because it covers the hard workers enjoying their work at the grass roots level. Regardless, the study warns that the sector has long hours, little pay, poor advancement opportunities, and little diversity in leadership. I also considered the issue of women and diversity in the sector. Like government, it is a white male-dominated arena. She told us about her issues with this problem which didn't stop her despite the obvious injustices in this system. This is very true. Leadership is a problem. I'm sure it's even more of a problem considering the nonprofit sector's few resources. The report does highlight positives. The workforce behind the nonprofit industry is extremely motivated. In fact, it may be the most motivated network of people dedicated to their causes. One in three respondents, despite the harrowing economic realities aspires to become an executive director. Higher percentages of these individuals are people of color. All the above feel prepared to lead within five years.

Fellow TWC interns at the Johns Hopkins Nonprofit Management course meeting at the Capitol.

Office of the Speaker of the House balcony view overlooking the National Mall.

I'm so concerned about the state of the Arts community in terms of education and minority audience development. Now, I'm really considering the ramifications of such a career choice. "What type of lifestyle do you want?" The question feels a bit too foreign. Price summarily told us that she just wanted something different and so she found that something in her work for the government. The idea that I should focus my energies on attaining the type of lifestyle that I want just doesn't sit well with me. It's funny how we use societal influence on the choices that should involve our own personal reflection. Honestly, I feel a little defiant right now while writing. "RING THE ALARM!" (Obviously I had to throw a little Beyonce in there.) Nonetheless, if I decide to enter the nonprofit sector, I've really got to consider my role as a leader. Peter F. Drucker gives beautiful examples on the essence of good leadership in his text, Managing the Non-Profit Sector, required reading for the Johns Hopkins class. He asks us to consider a different question, "What do you want to be remembered for?"

…before I continue, my cup is empty.

Reality Check 2: Living in the Moment

Listen to this entire blog entry.

Coffee with Kofi: Espresso Hot-Chocolate, homemade.

Today I learned about William Grant Still (1895-1978). He studied music composition at the Oberlin Conservatory before moving to New York City; a rite of passage for most musical careers at the turn of the century. He became the first African-American to conduct a major symphony orchestra in this country, the first to conduct a major orchestra in the deep South, the first to conduct a radio orchestra in New York City, the first composer whose opera was televised over a national network, and the first to have an opera produced by a major company in the United States, Troubled Island c. 1949. It has never been performed again.

Despite these pioneering efforts, his presence in the orchestral music scene wasn't and still isn't preferential in standardized classical programming. After being rejected by the Metropolitan Opera, which has to this day never performed a work by an African-American composer, he began to focus exclusively on chamber music. I've actually performed a piece by him, Summerland for wind ensemble.

Today, I heard his granddaughter perform.

Celeste Headlee, a lyric alto and Detroit NPR correspondent, performed several of Still's art songs in the West Building Lecture Hall at the National Gallery of Art in a concert series honoring African-American History. Art songs are performed as mini movements without applause until the end of a cycle of four to six songs. Typically art songs are collaborations between vocalists and pianists offering composers' music to libretto, or prepared text.

Friends from DC Twenties, a collegiate social group.

Although most of Still's works were composed for a soprano, Headlee chose works that were executable for an alto with an extended range. I fell more in love with her emotional intent than with her artistry. It was obvious that maybe some of the songs should really have been performed by a soprano. Nonetheless, I enjoyed the intermittent discussion about the composer with whose style merged staunch classicism's strict form and functionality with the raw emotion in Afro-American themes.

For each art song Celeste completely changed her character and lived in the moment. I felt that this was most represented by Still's accompaniment to Poeme by Philippe Thoby-Marcelin.

Poeme

Dawn had not yet broke,
but I arose,
rubbing my eyes.
'Round about all were sleeping.
The banana trees beneath my window
shivered in the calm moonlight.
Then, I took my head in my hands
and thought of you.

"Living in the moment" is now my motto. It has been a struggle to ignore precariousness and worry about my future.

Poeme is so simple, and so relevant. The character is just enjoying the moment in what seems like a very relaxed atmosphere; they're thinking about his/her loved one. Just this past week I've witnessed a lot of artists just living in the moment: Alvin Ailey: American Dance Company, the 21st Century Chamber Players, and today's gallery concert with Celeste Headlee. You know there's tons of stimulation here in DC. I also went to my ballet class as usual at the Capitol Hill Workshop, an Arts Career Fair at Studio Theatre, a lecture on the African-American and Latino Vote int he 2008 Presidential Election at the Center for American Progress Action Fund and I heard Kevin Klose, the President of NPR speak to TWC students. Whew!

Dancing with a few classmates after Ballet Technique at the Capitol Hill Arts Workshop.

DC has made me "think in the moment" about my future plans. It's not that I was completely decided before and now I've experienced an earth shattering intervention; it's just that now I'm more aware my true interests, dislikes, talents, challenges, and aptitudes. I have been required to completely be responsible for myself while I've been interning at the National Endowment for the Arts and form my own existence, here, in DC.

…my cup is empty.

Soho Cafe near DuPont Circle at 23rd and P

Features: Collegiate scene with a decent (not comprehensive) menu and free wireless internet.
Drink: House roast blend and double egg croissant.

My cell has the worst batteries ever and can you believe I can't get any reception! Why are those people so loud on the Metro? Is it that serious? Why can't my iPod battery last all day!? My computer was charging overnight and it still needs to be plugged up? Now, I've got to walk all the way across the room to plug it up. Gosh! Yeah, so I bumped into you, so what? Get out of the way!

After a day of perpetual thoughts like this, now, imagine if you woke up tomorrow and saw absolutely nothing. Pitch black. You could feel, you could smell, you could hear; you just didn't see anything. No longer could you see the view from your window, you couldn't read the newspaper, you couldn't maneuver around your bedroom without bumping into things; you had to guide yourself with your arms. You couldn't pour yourself any milk or make coffee or turn the radio on to your favorite morning station. You'd hear, "good morning" from someone close by, but their face could only be remembered.

Imagine if you were blind.

Growing up visually impaired is severely different from sudden blindness. There are accredited schools across the country that ensure the same educational opportunities as students without visual impairment. Deaf and dyslexic students are accommodated similarly. However, these teachers need supplies. How does a student with these varying maladies use textbooks or other tools?

At left: A student using RFBD instructional materials.

Photo Courtesy of RFBD Public Relations

Organizations like Reading for the Blind & Dyslexic (RFBD) help supply this need. DC is home to one of the few regional centers in the immediate Maryland area. I volunteer here. I can choose to volunteer either evenings or weekends to record texts for students at all levels –even post-secondary. Footnotes in legal practice texts are already difficult to understand, now imagine recording a concise explanation. Let's not forget the student that has to then transfer this sound into useful material for exams, etc.

I definitely began to see how little emphasis I use in normal conversation to allow all vowels and consonants to breathe. It's a working process because I talk pretty fast. I can't help it, being away from home takes a lot of energy to transfer over the phone. I have so much to unleash when dishing with friends.

Recording a text in a booth at the RFBD-DC Center at Friendship Heights.

When I started to volunteer at RFBD-DC, I felt ashamed. There are so many things that I take for granted. Since this past Saturday, my first volunteer session and orientation, I have found a change in the way that I interact with others. I've found that I am now a rebel in social interaction. On the metro, I make it a point to make eye contact with people I do not know. Obviously this is a bit uncomfortable for some. In most cases it results in conversation. You know, why is it so hard to smile? Isn't that something inherently apart of the human experience? Why can't I strike up a conversation with someone I haven't met? Why do we make it difficult to fellowship with each other? What is to fear?

I challenge you to meet someone today that you've never met before. Smile, and above all else, listen.

…my cup is empty.

Reality Check 1

It is understood that we are products of the influences in our environment. As a musician, I am a product of arts organizations with good leadership and cultural initiative. Arts agencies supported me in the beginning. Arts groups and patrons bought my first clarinet; they also provided for me amazing experiences at arts festivals, camps, and competitions. Arts organizations have supported me in college. These organizations have purchased my textbooks, supplies and even bought food. Leaders and teachers in these organizations inspired me to continue pursuing a performance career in the arts despite the harrowing realities of a lifetime pursuit of excellence. They provided means for me to creatively contribute to my community and become an effective citizen. It is these arts organizations that I blame when it is difficult, that I go to for help, and that I thank for their existence. I have a debt to repay and I know it will accrue interest in the future. My life's work may be the only way to give back.




Me and my roommate Armando at the National Gallery of Art.








The world environment, however, is changing. Our society spends more time with technology than we do with the people surrounding us; the people with perspectives, the people with stories, the people with dreams, the people with talents, the people living. It is easy to be distracted by our environment. We find ourselves spending less time in the performance space and more time as consumers of electronics. This current of behavior is not an obstacle for the arts, but will definitely require arts organizations to adjust. This is where I want to help.

As a classical clarinetist, I have performed in different capacities with the symphony orchestra, wind ensemble, opera, musical, and even in marching band. The audiences of each are very, very different. People will go to the events where they feel they are welcome to experience something that is meaningful to their existence. They want to feel included, they want to feel entertained, questioned and essentially subjected to an arts experience. They want to feel needed. Not all arts organizations see the need to diversify their audience, yet many commission new music, for a traditional audience. Who will continue to listen?

I believe the best way to do this is to diversify programming that is outreaching for diversity—inclusive of minorities and youth. Multidisciplinary arts programs would be more effective and would involve many arts, artists and more reception.

I attended a production of The Whiz as performed by the students at the Duke Ellington School for the Arts in Washington, DC where I am currently interning with the National Endowment for the Arts. I watched a kaleidoscope of cultures as teachers, parents, and friends entered the auditorium. I saw the presence of pride and appreciation as they were all so very excited for what was about to happen on stage that collaborated all of the school's arts departments. Smiles and laughs of fellowship permeated the experience. As "Glenda," the good witch, descended from the sky of the stage to tell Dorothy that the power was within her self, I glanced over and saw a little girl mimicking the motions of the talented student before her. The two connected. She became the actress that, to her, represented something that she wanted to become—an influence in her environment. I only hope that my future in arts management and leadership may inspire others to be inspiring.

I must repay.

Curtain call at the Duke Ellington School for the Arts.

Starbucks at Eastern Market near 7th and G

Features: It's the same on most corners.
Website: www.starbucks.com
Drink: Dark Roast, black, no sugar, and an Odwalla Citrus C monster

It was at Starbucks back home that my closest friend and I talked for five solid hours before I boarded the plane the next day to take the town here in DC. I miss her so much. It's rare that you find that great friend who knows what you're thinking before you say anything.

We text daily.

I will definitely miss her and many other friends' graduation ceremonies this May. It was a hard decision to take this opportunity. However, I had to convince myself that graduation is the last thing to look forward to in the cycle of collegiate study and to commit to experiencing as many career oriented programs as possible, especially while I have university support. This opportunity couldn't hurt. It just postponed graduate school, not my life. Plans changed, not my intentions. My priorities changed and I allowed myself, and my heart, to follow.

This week has been very reflective. I've learned the most about myself every day just since the last time we spoke. What did I do? What happened? Well, I definitely exposed myself to quite a bit of art that dealt with issues about the human experience and I too experienced something new.

Last weekend I went to the Rosslyn Theatre where I saw a silent production of Romeo and Juliet by Synetic Theatre. I didn't think I would be artsy enough to get it, but I totally did and really enjoyed it. The production wasn't exactly completely silent. An electro music technician was involved in creating atmospheric sounds for everything happening on stage. The sounds, of course, were pre-recorded, but they had to happen at just the right time to make the scene work and accompany the actors on stage. Check out the DCist review.

The Clarice Performing Arts Center at the University of Maryland hosted the 25th Annual Choreographers' Showcase. The choreographers competed to get into this competition. I particularly enjoyed a piece involving only one dancer. The choreography created a sense of paradox between the world of our work lives and the intimacy that we experience alone. This was most represented in a segment where the dancer placed a suitcase on the ground and looked inside where a video camera displayed her image on a scrim behind her. So, as she's looking into this suitcase, you see an enlarged version directly behind her. I don't know, I just thought it was really brilliant. It said to me that we look to live as we live to work. Do you get me?

Only this past Wednesday (02/06/08) co-workers of mine and I headed up Pennsylvania Ave. to catch a free (yes, free) dance performance at the new Shakespeare Theatre. Their concert series is every Wednesday offering performances from contemporary music groups to poetry readings. This particular performance featured traditional Indian dance betwixt several contemporary pieces. Indian dance would be great for the youth. The dance tradition is a mixture between an early form of dance technique and simple storytelling. The dancers became various characters in Indian mythology.

Just from a few days, one can get exhausted attempting to see all of what DC has to offer artistically. I'm going to miss this educational prism. No matter where I look there is some type of culturally enlightening experience waiting for me to take advantage.

What I meant earlier about learning about myself had to do with my first ballet class. Yes, that's right. I took a beginner's ballet class at the Capitol Hill Workshop at Eastern Market. I needed to do something that I felt was for me and for just the sake of learning something new. As a clarinetist attempting to survive in an extremely competitive job market, I can easily say that I have had somewhat of a psychological revamping. In this field, you cannot be mediocre. There is no exception. To survive as an artist of any medium, perfection, and excellence is always the goal. Our performance teachers tell us that daily. Let me preface that by saying this is a great tool for success in other fields. Imagine if you went to a basketball game and 9 players performed at maybe 75% accuracy. Now put that statistic in a concert where 9 musicians played only 75% of the right notes. Would that be acceptable? We would allow for some artistic "of the moment" mistakes, but generally speaking, it's not just overlooked.

Back to how this relates to my taking the ballet class. This environment was comfortable because it had to accept my failure. I walked into the room with absolutely no clue what I was about to get into. Initially I kept staring at myself in the mirrors laughing at how ridiculous I looked. I caught myself thinking that I was a fake. I thought that I needed to stop, that I should be doing something else, that I shouldn't be there. After twenty minutes I began having fun, smiling, and well, living. I plan to study ballet through the rest of the semester.

I suggest you start doing something you have no knowledge about. You'll learn something new and most importantly learn about yourself.

…my cup is empty.

Tryst: 2459 18th Street NW (Woodley Park Metro Stop)

Features: Hip crowd, free WiFi, full menu
Website: http://www.trystdc.com/
Drink: Chai

You will not believe what I just did. I thought it would be cool to call the blog “Coffee with Kofi” because NBC will want to go ahead and start the pilot shows of my soon-to-be talk show, but also I thought it’d be fun to go to different coffee shops and recommend fun locations. I love coffee and coffee shop environs and so thus the concept. Mind you, Tryst is completely decked out with mod art, eclectic furniture, MAC users 2-1, emo music, and customers who are obviously students with textbooks and newspapers abound. I took out my camera and snapped a shot of the place—with the flash! The beacon of light from my camera made time stand still. Heads, scarves, necks, and ponytails flipped to my direction with angst. I deserved it. Nonetheless, I do recommend the shop with its productive aura and full table service. I’m drinking a Chai served in a two-handed cup and enjoying the atmosphere, but mostly I’m excited to tell you about my first week here in DC.

Although the flash ruined my inconspicuous photography skills, I still managed to snap one without the sun’s help.

Getting from the Reagan Airport to my apartment in Rockville was an interesting experience. I always manage to do simple things the hard way. See aforementioned photography skills. I’m sure someone sent a video of me hauling my two oversized luggage, clarinet, backpack, side satchel, and rolling duffel bag on the Metro to “America’s Funniest Home Video.” I demand royalties. Hopefully the media won’t find it nor splash it on the screen when “Coffee with Kofi” hits the charts. I made it to the apartment and the word “shuttle” was the last thing I wanted to hear. Ha. I met another TWC intern who said we were lucky to be in Rockville as this was the first place he requested after interning the year before. I saw the apartment and felt he was confirmed. Love it! I’m actually housed with another person from northeast AR as well. Those housing people must be on to something.

My backyard; Leachville, AR

Dupont Circle Area; A fun, hip neighborhood near where I’m taking courses at Johns Hopkins and Massachusetts Ave

I can’t deny that gut feeling of my own room and space. Home is always a special place. Home for me is literally an open plain where neighbors are more than a walking distance apart. As a student in Memphis, TN the transition to “the city” didn’t render culture shock, but DC is unique in many ways. There are a plethora of arts events that you could actually spend hours deciding on what NOT to do because if you’re like me, you want to do and see everything. I admit to suffer from chronic interests and I know with schoolwork from Johns Hopkins and the internship that I’ll be plenty busy. Each weekend I plan to explore as much as possible. My first weekend here I saw the National Symphony perform at the Kennedy Center.

Outside the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts

A view from the Balcony of the Concert Hall as symphony members warm up.

I’m a Communications intern at the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) (http://www.nea.gov/) housed in the Historic Old Post Office Building. This building is also home to the National Endowment for Humanities. I was thrilled to be offered a position here because I feel like I am a product of non-profit arts agencies that NEA funds regularly. In high school, I was involved with community art outreach programs, theatre and as a Clarinet Performance major in Memphis, TN I really see that I am supported by arts organizations through the NEA. For example, just recently the Interlochen Academy and Center for the Arts, where I was a camper in 2003, received recognition in arts excellence from the National Endowment.

Soon I will be involved in learning about the grant writing process, and more specifically I’ll be directly involved in preparing materials for grant writing workshops to help individuals and organizations to win competitive grants. This would be great for me as I actually am a director of a mini organization that performs benefit concerts for non-profit agencies. Most recently we performed a concert for the Court Appointed Special Advocates and the Jonesboro Literacy League.

We convert admission fees into supplying needs.

Outside the Historic Old Post Office Building at the Federal Triangle

Later I’ve got to tell you about why I decided to do this internship the semester I would graduate! Stay tuned.

...my cup is empty.