Choosing a college major can feel like navigating a maze. If I’m being completely honest, music wasn’t a conscious, deliberate choice for me at George Fox University initially. Like many students, I explored different paths, switching majors, adding minors, even briefly declaring two majors at once. It felt like I was constantly redrawing my life plan, yet somehow, I always found myself drawn back to music. It’s almost funny, considering I wasn’t particularly known for my love of rigid practice, strict discipline, or always following instructions – traits often associated with collegiate music programs. Despite this seeming mismatch, George Fox’s music program kept pulling me back.
From Sibling Rivalry to Center Stage: The Allure of Being Heard
For me, two powerful forces drew me to the music program: the promise of community and the genuine opportunity to be heard. Growing up in a large family with nine younger siblings meant constant competition for attention. Life was a race for leftovers, a fight for the best car seat, and a shouting match to make your voice heard above the din. George Fox offered a different experience. Suddenly, I didn’t have to yell to be heard. Instead, I was given a stage, a microphone, and the incredible opportunity to share my songs – songs I had written from my own experiences – with an audience that was genuinely there to listen, to understand, and to connect with my story.
Stepping onto a stage, alone with just my guitar and the glare of a spotlight, was incredibly vulnerable. For the first time, it felt like everyone was truly listening to what I had to say. This feeling led me to join Epiphany, a songwriting and storytelling group on campus. Within Epiphany, we shared deeply personal stories, weaving them into original songs, sometimes individually, sometimes collaboratively. We weren’t just performing; we were sharing our art and our hearts in diverse settings, from local nursing homes to high school auditoriums and church gatherings.
The program thoughtfully provided each of us with a dedicated space within our sets to perform solo and present a song we had written. It was a daunting first for me, yet the experience quickly transcended simply wanting to be heard. I discovered a profound joy in building community through the act of sharing my story through music.
Fireflies: A Song That Sparked Unexpected Connections
As high school graduation approached, I was overwhelmed by the bittersweet emotions of leaving home and stepping into the unknown. To process this transition, I wrote a song called Fireflies. It was a song about the poignant feeling of leaving behind something deeply loved as you prepare for something new and uncertain. In many ways, it was a quintessential “high school song,” and while I was personally proud of it, I honestly didn’t expect it to resonate widely beyond my immediate circle. Despite my doubts, I decided to perform Fireflies with Epiphany. The response was genuinely shocking. I could never have predicted how many people would deeply connect with its themes, with the universal human desire to be seen, understood, and to feel less alone in their experiences.
After performances, elderly residents at nursing homes would approach me, their eyes often filled with tears, to share how deeply Fireflies resonated with them. They spoke of their own life transitions, of coping with loss, of watching time move forward while feeling left behind. These were individuals fifty years my senior, decades removed from their own high school graduations, yet my song touched a chord within them. Mothers from church, teenagers in high school, people from all walks of life came forward to express how much they related to the emotions within Fireflies. Sharing my music felt terrifyingly vulnerable, yet it revealed a powerful truth: so many others carried similar feelings, similar experiences, and I would have remained completely unaware of these shared connections if I hadn’t taken the risk to share my song.
Music as a Bridge: Sharing My Story, Hearing Others
The George Fox music program has given me far more than musical skills; it has gifted me a space to share my story authentically. And in sharing my story, I’ve been given the even greater gift of connecting with a diverse tapestry of people from all walks of life. Initially, my motivation might have been simply to have my voice heard. But through this journey, I’ve come to realize that everyone carries their own unique experiences, their own wellspring of emotions, their own stories yearning to be told. And through the vulnerability of sharing my own music, I can help create spaces for others to share theirs.
This realization has shifted my perspective entirely. Music, I’ve learned, isn’t meant to be a selfish pursuit or a solitary experience. I initially entered the program with the somewhat narrow view that music was about performance, about striving to be the best, and while those aspects certainly have their place, the music program at George Fox has illuminated a deeper truth: music is fundamentally about community. It’s about the profound human connections we forge when we dare to share our hearts with the world through our art.
The “Risk” of Music: A Path Truly Worth Taking
I won’t sugarcoat it: choosing music as your major, as your career path, feels inherently risky. It demands immense courage to step into the unknown, to embrace discomfort, to pursue a path that isn’t always clearly defined. Yet, I’ve discovered it is a risk immeasurably worth taking. I could have remained in the safe confines of my room, playing my songs solely for my cat, shielded from judgment, criticism, or the sometimes-uncomfortable feedback that pushes you to grow. But in that isolation, I would have missed out on the incredible people I’ve met, the artistic growth I’ve experienced, and the realization that my passion could take me far beyond the four walls of my room.
Perhaps most importantly, staying in that isolated space would have deprived me of the invaluable support system and vibrant community I now cherish. The music community at George Fox is a constant source of encouragement, pushing me to expand my creative boundaries, try new things, and reassuring me that this sometimes-challenging journey is, ultimately, deeply meaningful. I know now, without a doubt, that it is worth it. My initial desire to simply be heard has evolved into something far greater. I want to use my music to empower others to be heard. I want to harness the vulnerability inherent in songwriting to cultivate community, to foster a sense of belonging, and to create spaces where everyone feels seen and valued, wherever my music takes me.
