Full of love.

Every time I go to a Creative Strat extravaganza, I enter knowing that the incoming class of thinkers will push the boundaries of what this program has to offer. It's like welcoming so many fresh creative minds to our little advertising world that we cherish so much. 
I'm excited for you. 

Today also makes me realize my love for my peers. This group of seniors amaze and inspire me every day. It's days like these that it strikes me that these people around me are the people who will be the leaders in the next generation of thinkers and makers out in the world. 
I'm excited for them, excited for us. 
Because these are the people I get to tackle problems with and have the privilege of learning from. 

We talk a lot about investment, and that isn't just about the work you do. It comes from the people around you. We're invested in our projects and the program, but we're also invested in each other. Over this past week, as we were working hours into the morning polishing our projects for presentation, I heard constant pep talks making the rounds.  You could build someone up, and an hour later then when you we're feeling down, someone else would do the same for you. Not because we were working together, but simply because we are there for each other. 
Helping other people succeed gives you the most power you can have. 

I am full of love, full of hope, and can't wait to get to work. 

My high school US History teacher once told me

He liked reading my timed papers we'd write in class because of my writing, but it was obvious that I didn't know all of the information. And he said that if he had to choose one person to write a paper for the class, that he'd choose me to do it because I was able to sound convincing even though it wasn't necessarily right. 

How telling that moment seems now. 

Month of Musicianship.

Here's what I do and what I care about.  
This video is for my music service fraternity Kappa Kappa Psi of which I serve as one of six district presidents in the country. November is Month of Musicianship and as district leadership, we decided to share some more about ourselves and music to our district.  

What I owe to my sister

Something strange has happened. 
I miss my sister. 

For the first time in my life, I have no family living near me and I can feel it taking a toll on me even though I remind myself it's good preparation for all that is to come in the very near future. I'm in my last year of college and my sister just graduated from grad school. We've never lived more than 20 minutes apart, expect for the two years that she was in college and I was finishing up high school. But I still had my parents and my childhood friends, plus I was an angsty teenager that didn't appreciate the beauty of having siblings. 

I miss being able to call her up when I'm feeling alone or bored or simply hungry and having it be a sure thing that I'd have someone to spend time with. 

The more I look back at the past 20 years of my life, the more I realize how profoundly an impact my sister has had on me. 

I had a realization recently that -- while I have forged my own path in life and ended up in a completely different field and mindset than my sister -- she was the one that has enabled me to get to where I am. Not because she had that intention or really has been that invested in doing that, but because she has been the constant in my life that I have -- mostly unintentionally -- looked up to and copied reliably. 

When we were little, we both figure skated. My sister decided to take a soccer class and I did too. She signed up for volleyball, and when I was able to, I did too. She loved to draw and I tried my best to be just as creative. My sister was an amazing flute player, and the year I could sign up for band class, there was no question that I would. Once in high school, she quit volleyball to focus on band and art, and then, so did I. 
She came to the University of Oregon, and two years later, I was in Eugene too living in the same residence hall and walking the same streets that she did. 

It's really interesting to think about because I remember times when she would be so angry that I was "copying" her and I would always get defensive and say that I just liked the same things and that not everything was about her. Well, too bad younger self, you were probably copying her.

There's always a competitive nature among siblings, but I think I got the amazing benefits from that relationship that my sister may not have. Even though she sometimes has said how it's annoying that I've surpassed her in some of these activities, it's probably only because she did them first. So I hope in some way or at some point, she can be proud instead. 

In many ways, I am not similar to my sister at all anymore -- in location, field, friends, goals in life -- but a lot of the things that have led me to where I am are because of her. 

And I'd like to think these things have also led her to what she is too: a teacher. 

On what means the most.

When someone says, "You don't know how much I respect your opinions." 

So simple, but reassuring.

I want to be someone for those younger than me to look up to just like I did for those that were older than me... And I'm hoping that's means I'm on my way. 

Being a team player.

From a Texas high school band director: 

"So here's the big deal about marching band. Students spend hours upon hours working to perfect a show for performances that will last around 8 minutes. Each performance is a big deal. If someone has a bad 20 seconds, it can wreak havoc on the entire band. If someone is confused, or not quite sure of the next move, there is no opportunity to call time out and get clarification.
The band gets 7-8 minutes to showcase what they've spent hundreds of hours working on. They don't get 4 quarters, 2 halves, or 9 innings- just a few minutes. If someone isn't feeling well, twists their ankle, or gets knocked on their rear, they can't call time-out and ask for a sub. The show must go on.
After the performance is over, not one performer will have their name in the paper, or get special recognition for their outstanding individual performance. Band is a team activity and not one person is recognized publicly for their outstanding performance that week. Everyone works hard, day in and day out, for the team-the group, knowing that they will not be singled out for special recognition. All the work is done for the good of the group. That's extremely awesome."  

Morning thoughts.

People should just sit and listen more. Sitting on my couch with my clock ticking away while the birds chirp loudly and the cars whirl by outside is putting me in a serene, rhythmic place. 

I'm [not really] getting old.

Despite my only being 22-years-old and a youth in the eyes of the majority of people in the world, my pool of human interaction is quite small and thus makes me feel ancient. Living in a college town, most of my encounters are with people between the ages of 18 and 24 with the exception being professors and employees who are still very outnumbered. 

So when the freshmen show up to campus each year and I am further and further from being able to relate with them, it is entirely apparent to me how simply being 18-years-old does not whatsoever, in any way other than legally, make you an adult.  

Because my roommate is still in the marching band, we had a couple freshmen staying with us until they were allowed to move into the dorms. In terms of being a young adult, five years makes a HUGE difference, and I was confronted with that the minute these freshmen were sitting in my living room not knowing what to do with themselves or how much food they would need or what to pack for an extended stay. 

Missing items included: a towel, any blankets or pillows whatsoever, accessories for the instrument they were supposed to be playing all week, food, money for food...  I could go on. 

Questions I received regardless of the fact that I had never had any experience with the topic (but I still was able to figure it out): how do I buy an Amtrak ticket online? What classes does my major require? What time should I leave? What should I do now that I ran out of food [after the first night]? 

I bet they'll be just as annoyed as I am in a couple years. 
I think my almost #adulting abilities have made me cynical...

On conditioned fear (no matter how reasonable):

I set out alone despite all of the concerns that from friends that going anywhere long distance by myself would lead to my inevitable death. Since when did being alone become so scary? I headed out of Eugene through the beautiful trees with sunshine dripping in between the cracks of the leaves, and I was reminded of how much I love the state that has been my only home.
How could this beauty do me wrong? I thought. I drove and drove until it had been a couple hours and I reached the city where my friend had told me that I better fill up my gas because there was nothing between here and the next city. I drove toward the city until at some point I was heading toward the highway and not the city. I had missed it (I blame Google Maps). Oh no, this surely will leave me stranded out in the middle of nowhere. 
I had faith in my little car that I loved so much and that I bragged about getting "insanely good gas mileage," so I kept going, convincing myself that my three-quarters full tank was nothing to worry about. Soon enough, the road that I was on turned into a dirt and gravel mix that made me slow from my slightly-too-fast 60mph to about a 15mph crawl because a mix of feeling that surely this would be where I'd meet my end and because again my car was my baby that couldn't be tarnished yet. 
After about 2 miles of thinking that my tire would pop or a piece of gravel would hit my windshield just right and crack it or that my almost full tank would disappear, I made it to the highway and set off, driving far too fast. But hey, there was no one in sight, who would know. 
Turned out that my friend was right. Central Oregon is filled with a big ol' sight of just about nothing. I convinced myself it was pretty and serene for a while, but after three hours of dirt, my mind kept wandering to places where I never found relief from the nothingness in the distance. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

...will continue this later. 

Wisdom written beautifully.

Unknown author, but much appreciated.  

Who says being a band geek is bad?

In fact, it's probably the best thing that could've happened to me. 

I say "happened to me" simply because when I was starting elementary band as a 5th grader picking up a clarinet for the first time, I had literally no idea that it would be the one thing that made me who I am and that I credit for my intelligence, social skills, leadership ability, passion and a whole hoard of other things that have been a direct effect of my being a band geek. 

When I was ten and squawking out Ode to Joy over and over again, I did not know that I would meet some of the best people in my life because of being a band geek. I didn't know that I would be part of -- not to mention a leader in -- a band that performed on national levels and took me to California, Texas, Nebraska, Nevada, Washington and other states that I can't even remember because we got to travel that much. When I was twelve and having anxiety over having my first solo, I did not know that I would stand in front of 60,000 people each week and direct my university's marching band. Even when I was fourteen and my sister was teaching me to forward and backward march in our driveway, I did not know that I would become a leader in an organization that represents the best of the best in band. 

I think of how I got here and it seems almost chance, even though if I thought hard enough I could describe perfectly the hours spent running, marching, practicing scales; the tears after failed auditions and fights with members of my section; the thoughts constantly running through my mind about how to make my band better and how to make my chapter better. 

Yes, it took work, but also, I am so lucky.

Lucky that I chose to be a band geek and lucky that my work was directed toward these amazing people that surround and inspire me every day. Lucky for all of the opportunities and the failures and the obstacles and the love. 

Why everyone should work a service job at least once in their life:

Customer service can drive you crazy, but it's one of those essential skills in life that will humble you and also make you better at every job that you have later in life.

Sure, the customer isn't really always right, but having to deal with so many different personalities and hopefully have them leave happy after your interaction is over is probably the real key. They don't have to be right; they most likely just want to feel heard. And that's important to any person. 

If you can make people feel heard, feel valued -- while not giving up your initial goals or beliefs (unless you should) -- then you have learned something. 

Also, simply working hard is really devalued these days and it shouldn't be. Having to work two jobs just to make some sort of living can give you a completely different perspective than someone who has had everything paid for. In my opinion, a better perspective. It teaches you some life lessons that you wouldn't find elsewhere and makes you appreciate other people's work a lot more too. Appreciate the people who do the work that is necessary for us to all get by because sometimes they do the hardest work of all. 

Ambiversion.

People like labels. I'm sure you've labeled yourself as either an introvert or an extrovert at some point in your life. Am I right? 

I think we're sort of missing the point here though. Just like a lot of other things, people usually aren't just one thing or another (please if anything, remember this). 

In terms of extroversion versus introversion, I fall somewhere in between, as do most people despite our need to label. The very center of this spectrum is deemed ambiversion, a term that I just recently learned. 

I'll explain in terms of how this relates to me personally: 
I gain energy from being around people. I like to go out, be around people, hang out with friends and basically be the center of attention every once in a while. But then, after I've done this for awhile, the need to recharge is almost overwhelming. I need to go home and not be around people for a long time to sort of recover, and again, gain energy. Then this drains me, leaving me with little energy, at which time I crave social interaction; it almost instantly can make me feel better. I'll have a headache and go hang out with friends to make it go away. It's a sort of strange paradigm. 

I suppose balance is key everywhere. 

On moderate depression.

As I start writing this, I feel like I am starting a confessional, simply because of years of built up stigma regarding mental illness. We all act like even saying those two words is a taboo and then, as we do so often in America, we ignore it because 1) we have a fear of offending someone and 2) it makes us feel uncomfortable. 

Mental illness is not offensive. 
Mental illness comes in many forms and degrees. 
Mental illness affects over a quarter of American adults in any given year. 

We often place a lot of importance on physical health only to leave behind another key part in what makes us healthy individuals: mental wellbeing. Particularly in my line of sight, students are forced to their breaking points all around the country, and this is undoubtedly because mental health is largely ignored. Not only does mental illness make simply living difficult, but it also contributes to addictions, school dropouts, chronic medical illnesses, homelessness, and suicide. All of which are becoming larger problems in our country. 

I've been especially thinking about this a lot lately because it's become increasingly apparent to me that over the past year, I've had a sort of slight to moderate depression. I also think it's important to note when discussing this the difference between depression and sadness. Sadness is a temporary state of emotion, while depression is a state of being. It follows you around like a weight that you can't shake. You'll know what it's like when one moment you're content and then the next, you can't help the tears that are welling in your eyes. It's a tightness that grabs hold of your heart and won't let go until the positive emotions are all but drained. 

I'm thankful at the very least that I have recognized this because it really does take a conscious effort every day to not sink into the pit that is looming there. I'm glad that I'm only peering into the abyss, and one day (hopefully in the near future), I can simply walk away from the edge. 

But as I look back over this past year, it makes me sad to think of the things I missed because I was distracted. Despite all of the amazing things that have happened to me -- conducting my band at the National Championship football game, getting elected president for an entire district of my fraternity, getting a spot on our amazing advertising team for next year -- my state of wellbeing does not match. You'd think I'd be on top of the world leading into my last year of college, but when I ended out my spring term sitting on my couch crying with overwhelming anxiety for no apparent reason, you might think differently... and also maybe wonder what's up. I know I did. 

I think the scary thing about any sort of depression is that it's not entirely clear why or when it began. And then also, how exactly to emerge from it. Luckily, for me, it's recognizing the problem and then deciding every day to not let it overwhelm me. To make the conscious effort to rediscover why I'm here and what purpose I've deemed for my life; to realize what I'm passionate about and rather than hurting myself working hard to get there, let myself appreciate the opportunities and the people that those passions have surrounded me with. 

I hope one day I don't have to feel afraid to write a post like this. And that one day, we -- as a community of people all going through our own shit -- can look beyond stigmas and simply help each other out. Believe when someone says there is a problem. And give our understanding. 

#ILoveMyEric

I can't believe a year has gone by. As a writer, I usually can express whatever it is that is on my mind, but I simply don't have the words to say how much Eric meant to all of us and how good of a person he was. He had such a pure, kind heart and a spirit that was unmatched. 
We miss you, but you are always with us. 

In memory of Eric Humphrey; Trumpet Section Leader of the Oregon Marching Band who passed away after a two and a half year long battle with cancer. His impact on the band, and how they supported him.