I have a few faithful blog followers (seriously… just a few, two of whom are my parents) who wonder why I haven’t posted anything since October. I can finally explain my cryptic message in my last blog post of October 20th. A few days earlier, I began the process of applying for my Ph.D. in Sociology, wishing to conduct formal research into specific aspects of the music profession in Newfoundland and Labrador. My career has seen me work individually with many young aspiring musicians from across the province. This angle of my work wasn’t something I planned. It just happened. I guess it started with one young person more than a decade ago, whose mother told the parent of another young person, and so on. I casually started taking note of all sorts of life experiences of everyone I’ve had the pleasure of working with: The community where they were raised. Their family upbringing and support. Their ambition and attitude (about themselves and their peers). Economic standing. Access to (depending on finances and where they live) and the impact of quality, consistent private teaching and mentoring.

So, in the middle of a sleepless night in October 2011, I e-mailed a dear friend of mine who is a sociologist. She’s refreshingly honest and would have no problem telling me I’m out of my mind for even considering such a thing, or else lend her full-hearted support to my application. It was her enthusiastic support I received. So it began. In October, I started what would be a process of more than two months of preparing a finely-crafted application to the Ph.D. program at Memorial University’s Department of Sociology. I first revealed my plans to fewer than ten people, including my wife, two academic referees, and my sociologist friend. The other few make up some of my most trusted friends. You know who you are and I thank you for your confidence. I didn’t broadcast my plans to more people, not as a matter of trust, but only because I didn’t want to tell hundreds of people that my application wasn’t accepted. I honestly wasn’t expecting to be approved, knowing I was placing myself in a competitive situation at a fairly high level. I was prepared to be satisfied even in rejection, knowing that I at least would submit a thorough and careful application.

The deadline for my application was February 1st. I was so excited to receive the support of my first important contact, that I jumped head first into developing a long, detailed statement of interest required by Memorial’s School of Graduate Studies… essentially, a document explaining to the powers-that-be why they should consider me over anyone else. Then I discovered along the way they wanted a sample of my academic writing. Not comfortable showing them something I wrote in my Masters studies from eight or nine years ago, I began a fresh research paper. Throughout December, I was secretly making regular visits to the QEII Library pulling dozens of books off shelves and writing a paper on performance anxiety, an affliction I know far too well. I completed both documents on December 31st and submitted them online. At 11:00 pm on December 31st, while you were probably at a big party and getting ready to ring in 2012, I was here at my desktop with my wife, proofreading my documents. Once we agreed that every “i” was dotted and every “t” crossed, I clicked the “submit” button, poured a nice, tall glass of wine and quietly rang in what would become one of the biggest years of my life. The remaining month before the deadline would be left to my two academic referees to complete detailed forms hopefully saying something nice about me and vouching for my half-intelligence. They submitted just under the February 1st wire.

That week, I received an e-mail from a professor in the Department of Sociology I hadn’t yet met, asking me to meet him at the University Centre for a coffee. There we were, surrounded by what felt like thousands of yelling kids having their lunches. He was very quiet and pleasant, but began by rehashing my less-than-stellar (understatement of the year) grades from my first years of university. You may not be aware that I was a fail-out, a drop-out and a giver-upper when I was a teenager and into my very early-20s. I admit I got my back up a little when he brought that up, reminding him that if he read my transcript carefully he would see that those grades were from decades ago and that I was a straight-A student through my music degrees. He then asked me why I was doing this at this stage of my life and what I hoped to achieve at the end of this academic journey. He seemed to appreciate my frank response which I remember verbatim: “I don’t know. Nor did I know at the start of my music studies that I would be enjoying such a rewarding career. What I know today is what I knew then: It feels right and I will clear a wide path to get it done.” He then asked me if I would be his piano teacher next Fall. A bizarre question, I thought. I replied, “Well… um… that depends on what I’m doing next Fall. If your Department doesn’t accept my application, then sure, but …” Then he interrupted me and said, “Oh… You’ve been accepted. We like your research proposal.”

It takes a lot to cause my jaw to drop and no words come out. That was one of those moments. After we said our farewell, I called my wife who nearly jumped through the phone with excitement. While talking with her, I was walking across campus to a rehearsal with a young singer I trust more than anyone. He was next in my path and I couldn’t help but tell him. He immediately started calling me “Doc.” I have a lot of work to do… several years… before I earn the title, but I want you to know that a title and prestige are not on my spectrum of reasons for making this move. I’ve thought and talked for years about my sometimes-casual-sometimes-professional observances of young people and their aspirations as career musicians. I’ve hypothesized for so long, I want to formalize things now and see if there are any correlations I can draw. I can tell you that the entire Department of Sociology has been exceptionally warm and welcoming both to me as a person and to my proposal. They’re excited to work with me and the feeling is mutual. I’m equally excited to don a backpack, go back to the library, sharpen some pencils, register for courses and, for the first time, conduct what I hope will be meaningful, enlightening research. If my work leads to another career opportunity down the road, great. If it doesn’t, it really is a simple matter of choosing between returning to what I do today… or retiring as a very happy man. The only possible outcomes are all fantastic.

When I received that informal acceptance from my new Sociology professor friend, I revealed my news to a select few others. One of them, another wonderful friend, said, “Congratulations! I hope that you make some judicious allowances in your busy life for this, and not just add it as another demand/commitment…” His advice is well-taken. As I type this post, I’m in the process of making some very difficult decisions in order to carve out this new road. In the wake of my choices, some people will be disappointed. I simply will not be able to manage all of my private students or all of those wonderful young people I accompany. I will hang on to my choir work as best I can, reassured that I will have the full support of those two amazing ensembles. I’ve let one of my Board of Directors commitments go, regretfully saying farewell to the fabulous organization that is Waypoints. I’ve reluctantly let go of my involvement in the annual Piano Camp. More tough decisions to be made soon.

Whoever you are out there reading this… I hope you also get a little inspiration in what I’m doing. I have a Commerce degree, two Music degrees and now am working toward a new thing to hang on the wall. Those aren’t bragging rights. I simply think it’s fun, exciting, rewarding, life-changing and rejuvenating to keep re-defining yourself. Give everything you have to what you do. Then when you feel like you have done your very best and have little creative else to offer, and have maybe helped a few people along the way, be proud of yourself and try something else, especially if the challenge of your work is diminished and you’re a little bored and in need of a change. Look for a new way to use your skills and talents and you will learn more along the way. You will also gain a lot of respect and admiration of the people around you and constantly add to your list of friends and admirers. There’s no shame in looking out for yourself once in a while.

My formal letter of acceptance finally arrived in the mail today, March 29th, 2012. Five-and-a-half months after that initial middle-of-the-night e-mail to my sociology friend… who is now my colleague. Tomorrow, I head to the bookstore to purchase my readings for my first sociology course taking place this Spring and Summer. I haven’t felt this energized and good about a decision since I started my music studies at Memorial in 1998.

I’m beyond excited about waking up every morning to new work with new people, while keeping forever the best friends of my life from my performance and teaching years. Yet another friend said recently, “We’ll miss you in music!” I don’t look at this as a career change, just so you know. It’s just an expansion of my knowledge and new applications of my experiences. I’m not saying good-bye to performance, my music colleagues or friends. I want all of you to stay with me through this next chapter. In fact, I’ll be kicking off this transition with a June recital. The long-delayed Mozart, Beethovin, Chopin, Ginastera program. Meanwhile, keep checking in here for more regular blogs which will offer some interest and perhaps even a little inspiration.

I’m a guy who once flunked out of university. Not allowed to register for an entire year because of dismal, rock-bottom grades. Last month, there was an argument among high-ranking professors to decide who would get to serve on my research committee. My mind is blown. If I can pull this off, anyone can.

Whether you have words of support or if you think I’ve gone off the deep end… Drop into the Guestbook on this site and leave me a note. Maybe you want to share your own life-changing career experiences. I’d love to hear from you.

If this is how a mid-life crisis feels, bring it on.

Let me see now…. The last time I blogged was June. More than four months ago. I was on a roll for a while, but stopped. I was planning on a slight delay of my next blog anyway. Just not this much of a delay. I was on the verge of officially announcing huge things and wanted to wait for the right time to announce them, then drum up excitement. I recorded a demo CD to supplement a detailed grant application for funding to record my first solo classical full-length CD, which in turn would be released in a big, splashy recital. It was all planned out, right down to the guest list (by invitation only), wine, snacks and candles.

The grant application was turned down. The CD, as a result, is on ice. Nothing worthwhile to blog about. Bring on fresh thoughts of another career change.
Carpenter? …. No… I barely know how to hold a hammer. Chef?…. No…. I’ve had too many years of eating out, or taking out, or relying on my parents. Boiling water has become an event in my kitchen….

Off I went to South America with Lady Cove Women’s Choir. That surely would inject new life and energy into this exhausted, frustrated musician. Yes indeed. My Better Half by my side as we wind our way through Argentina and Brazil, en route to a part of the world I had never seen and performing for audiences who might see some value in what I do. Lady Cove, needless to say, stole the show at the World Symposium on Choral Singing. The women, deservedly, were the talk of this prestigious conference. Only one little issue… Not a single conference organizer thought to provide a piano. The accompanied pieces, therefore, had to be ditched for most of the appearances except for one, thanks to a 15-year-old volunteer who loaned me his keyboard. I was very proud to be with Lady Cove who represented Newfoundland & Labrador brilliantly. My personal musical morale, however, hit bottom.

Accountant?…. No…. I tried that before. Loved it so much, I ended up going into music….
Psychologist?… No… That would mean taking science courses. You wouldn’t want to know what happened the last time I took a science course. Maybe another journal entry for another time….

After South America, I did reflect positively on the experience for Lady Cove’s sake and for the sake of me and My Better Half enjoying tremendous quality time throughout what turned out to be a lengthy vacation for my part. Upon returning home, I eased back into private teaching, but avoided the piano. Closed the books on the recital pieces and reluctantly returned to accompanying a handful of MUN School of Music students.

The period of feeling sorry for myself came not only on the heels of rejection in those instances above, but also after bidding fond farewells to young musicians with whom I had worked for years. Kids who are no longer kids, now well on their way down their own paths… and happily so. One of them is actively pursuing a performance career in another province. Three of them are doing something far removed from a music career.

But then came some very pleasant, invigorating surprises. Ironically, all of them because they chose different paths are working harder than ever to keep in contact with me, now that we’re not making music together all the time anymore. To a person, all I’ve been hearing and seeing is their renewed energy, excitement, determination, vision, ambition, and downright outward happiness I saw in myself just one time before…. the time I decided to go into music. They’re all into something new and intrinsically rewarding.

Inspired by their robust energy for their new lives and grateful for their loyalty to me, I too am seeking new, rewarding paths. The recital scores are open again and the solo practicing is happening anew. The CD isn’t, but what odds? I want to prove to myself and to my invited guests that I can still find my way around a piano. So I will in April. It’s not another career I need, but rather a fresh flavour in a career that’s tried and true. This crazy profession has too many rewards to ignore. I’m not talking about money or trophy rewards. I’m talking about the profound pleasure of seeing Newman Sound grow from a ragtag team of 20 singers seven years ago to the spectacular 40-voice group of friends it is today… and wondering what’s around the corner for them. I’m talking about those young musicians with whom I worked for years who now drop over to my house, frequently with little or no notice, just to hang out and make some music. I’m talking about this spectacular ten-year-old girl whose solo voice be introduced next week in my first gospel concert in nearly two years, and she’ll bring the house down. Just when I thought the well had run dry, increasingly more doors are opening up.

I’ve been working as a teacher/mentor/pianist/adjudicator for more than ten years with countless young artists and it’s time to start documenting my ongoing experiences in urban and rural Newfoundland and Labrador.

Stay tuned.