Through the years I have had the privilege of
being taught by some pretty amazing people, including many high school teachers
and various professors. Many gave me much-needed support from an unlikely
source. While I was busy trying to get support from my peers, these adults gave
me more support than I could ever thank them all for.
I want to take a few moments to thank a few
people before bringing up my vocal professor.
In high school I found solace in speaking with
my teachers. While it may have seemed that I was being a teacher’s pet or brown-nosing
(not saying that I wasn’t, exactly), I simply found that they understood more
of what I was going through than anyone my age in school. When they found out
that I had a form of IBD, they knew what that meant. They knew what kind of
challenges I might face. And so they were understanding immediately – instead of
needing any extra explanations. There were teachers I would see early in the
morning before class so that I could catch a quick nap in their classroom.
There were teachers I would go to during the lunch hour when I just needed to
sit instead of try and be active. There were teachers who I knew could help me
handle a sailing trip or a volleyball tournament. I could be honest with them
without facing criticism or judgement. I could actually tell them what was
going through my head without being made fun of. I could say that I was having
issues with a medication without someone responding: “huh?”. I had countless
teachers who became friends long before I reached adulthood, and I would not
have become the person that I am without those teachers.
The one very special professor I want to bring
up today was my vocal professor in University. I had previously met him and his
wife at several IBD awareness events, as she also suffered with IBD, though I
did not know him very well. I only KNEW OF him, and what I had heard about him
was that he was extremely tough, demanding, and expected the very best from
every student, to the point where people would often leave his office crying
after a rehearsal. So, when I started my combined degree in Music and
Psychology, I was terrified to be placed with him as a coach. Contrary to what
I thought, having him as my coach is probably one of the only reasons I got
through that program. Yes he was tough. Yes he expected excellence. Yes I cried
a few times. But he was also caring, compassionate, passionate about music, and
supportive in more ways than I can count. He knew my struggles. He did not let
me use my struggles as an excuse, but also allowed for some odd concessions to
be made. For instance – I could not perform sitting on a chair, but if I needed
to, I could sit down after my vocal performance so that I did not waste more
energy. He taught me how to channel my energy into worthwhile endeavors and how
to achieve excellence in spite of all of the medical issues that I was dealing
with. He helped me become a stronger individual – musically and personally. He
also proved to me that having to adapt to new directions – not by choice – was not
necessarily a bad thing. I could not perform in Operas. I could not be involved
with a specific choir. Why? Realistically, I could not be relied upon. I was a
very diligent student and my efforts were always to improve and to learn, but
my diseases made me unpredictable. He taught me that I also need to be
accountable and reliable, and showed me that it would be unfair to others
because of my situation. The most important part of that is that he taught me
that it doesn’t mean I cannot become excellent. It simply meant that the
direction I took my schooling would have to be in more of an independent
direction – and that that is perfectly fine.
That music program was one of the toughest programs
that I have had to face. The grueling schedules, the memorization, languages,
nit-picking, criticism, competition, and the exactness that was expected were
all incredibly difficult. With the support of this vocal professor, I was able
to ENJOY this process. When I graduated, I really felt like I had accomplished
something amazing – especially considering the health complications I was
facing at the time. I would not be where I am today without this particular
professor, and I am eternally grateful that he didn’t expect less of me because
of my illness, but instead expected the same level of excellence despite it.