Music and singing is how I’ve processed emotions, calmed full-blown panic attacks, quelled anxiety, how I’ve celebrated my loved ones, and how I’ve felt most connected to them since their deaths. I’ve sung at their funerals, including my brother’s and my dad’s when I was just 15. I’ve performed days (once it was hours) after losing a loved one because the music calmed my jittery nervous system and always helped my breathing become consistent. Whenever I feel my breathing start to get shallow, or if I become overwhelmed by memories or pain, I’ll start to sing and it grounds me. The low, focused inhale, the feeling of connecting to my body, the vibrations of my own voice in my head and ears brings me out of the anxiety spiral and back to reality. 

Music is made to express the human experience. Pain, anger, love, hate, heartbreak, laughter, happiness, loss, and grief. All of these things are written into the notes, the phrases, and the harmonies intentionally by the composers. It’s our job as musicians to bring these things out and communicate them with the audience. Anyone can experience music as a coping tool, by allowing themselves to be enveloped by the sounds, the patterns, the beautiful soaring voices, which takes them out of the present moment and creates a bubble of beautiful vibrations.

It’s my goal that the recipients of these memorial scholarships understand the role music plays in dealing with grief, even if they’ve never experienced the loss of a loved one. Grief is a universal feeling and can affect all of us in different ways. It could be grief for a lost loved one or a pet, for the ending of a friendship, for a previous version of yourself, for the world/humanity as a whole.