When I look back at my developmental years, I have come to realize how important it is at times to have a mentor. Someone to speak to about what direction to take; someone to confide in that you trust. I had a few that made a powerful imprint of what direction my life took and I was so grateful to them. My father had such a small closed conservative world perspective I would often run to do anything that was the exact polar opposite of his views. During my high school years, I became immersed in my love of music and performing with the numerous instruments I had learned to love. My friends and I created a band that covered the music of “Blood Sweat and Tears”, “Chicago”, “Santana”, etc. and we played at various high schools and coffee houses around Queens. There were ten of us, mostly from the same year at our high school and when you added the roadies and the girlfriends, it was like being part of a large tribe. We spend hours practicing together after school, eating lunch together at the same table in the cafeteria, and socializing with each other on the weekends. The trumpet player in the band eventually dated my sister, ended up marrying her, had three beautiful daughters and they are still together. It was this wonderful social unit that protected and nourished me during my high school years and many of us still talk to each other weekly 50 years later.
My high school band leader and music teacher, Mr. Keeler, took me under his wing and I thrived from his patience and direction. I was asked to be part of the first music theory course offered at my high school and I seized the chance. Eventually, I became an assistant music teacher at that high school to help him with his students. I recently saw a meme that stated,
“The Music Department is an alternate universe
where pupils are often unrecognizable from who they are outside of it.
The shy become confident.
The agitated become calm.
The lonely become included
. The quiet become heard.
And the lost become found.
Music reveals the real child.”
That meme touched me and I knew from my own experience that it was so true. But in the back of my mind, there was always this voice saying, “You’ll never be able to make a living from this unless you go to Julliard or some other known school and prove yourself to be exceptionally talented at this.” Often, I would witness in my friends that there were a select few that were naturally gifted. The types of people that were able to just pick up any instrument and being able to wail on it. This always just astounded me. I worked so hard, paid for private instruction and practiced non-stop for hours to get to my level of proficiency. It was frustrating to see someone so naturally adept.
One day, I mentioned this quandary to my dentist. He was an older Jewish man, Dr. Glazer, and he seemed to have this air of practical wisdom about him. He said to me that he had loved the violin when he was young the same way that I loved the trombone. He then said, “You can have this love for this instrument for the rest of your life, but it doesn’t have to be the center of your life.” That advice made such incredible sense to me. I gave up my quest to become a professional musician and moved on with my life. It was a transformative moment and it was greatly due to having someone older share some practical wisdom.
Robert
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