Why Why Why
Rainy days are for reflections, apparently. It is a showery Monday afternoon in Boston, Mass. The raindrops rustle the leaves on the very few trees around my apartment, creating a whirring that audibly matches the speeding cars and the rumbling T while adding a sense of calm and rhythm to the normally turbulent and humid atmosphere in which I usually work.
In the last month, I have been challenged both by Mama Hope and by an incredibly respected music educator to understand my “why”. This comes from a TED Talk by Simon Sinek titled “How Great Leaders Inspire Action”.
To summarize Sinek’s talk, he relates that people don’t care about what you do, it’s why you do it and that it is important to find that why.

At Mama Hope bootcamp, hosted at a beautiful lake house in Michigan, we spent a whole day writing about why we chose Mama Hope and why we wanted to embark on the journey of international development. My fellow Global Advocates shared stories of loss, of hope, of growing up a certain way, and of finding themselves renting a documentary that completely changed their life.
My “why” comes from a place of pain but I don’t see it as a sad story. It’s actually a story I hadn’t shared with anyone before going to Michigan and being challenged to really find the reason for my desire to invest myself in the world of international aid. So, for the first time in writing, here it is:
Why this work?
I was always a really inquisitive child, to the point of exhaustion for my parents. My mother recalls needing to procure a thesis every time I asked a question because I wouldn’t stop asking questions until I was satisfied — why this? What is this for? Why not? But one moment shifted those questions from those of childish innocence. I remember I was young, about 7 or 8 years old, and it was Hanukkah, a time for celebration and food and family, and my family had put our electric menorah in our window to glow overnight. The next morning, we woke to a baseball through our window, about where the menorah was, and a policeman in our house. This really shook me, nothing like this had ever happened to us before. This was my home, my safe space, and there was broken glass and a uniformed stranger talking to my dad. Now, to be fair, we never found out who threw the baseball and why they did it but I had been learning in Hebrew school about crimes committed against Jewish people simply for being who they were and this incident hit too close to home, literally.
Now, I wondered, why us? Why was my family different from our neighbors who didn’t have a baseball sized hole in their window? Less articulate then, I’m sure, but I started thinking about the artificial and hateful boundaries people put up between each other. The walls, if you will.
Although the incident didn’t occupy my thoughts for much longer, it did significantly develop my headspace. It forced me to challenge stereotypes about people I encountered my life and gave rise to my belief in common humanity. My desire to work in international development comes from this belief that people are people and we should take care of our brothers and sisters and non-binary persons despite what nation they are from, that no human being is “lesser” than any other human being, and that I want to do my part in creating a just and equitable world.
Why education?
During my time at university, I was fortunate to teach for and eventually direct an organization called Global Civics. The purpose of Global Civics was to engage local high school students with the world around them and give them a platform to ask questions. It was really important for me and my fellow (college-aged) teachers to give these kids a space to form opinions. These kids ran with this and started asking their own complex why’s about the world to the point where after one lesson, a student came up to me and hugged me and he told me that he got accepted to a prestigious university. He thanked me for “opening up his mind to the world”. I was flattered but in reality, I hadn’t really done anything. He was the one that got the grades and applied himself, I just asked some questions and prepared some powerpoint presentations on subjects I learned in university. But more than that, he was surrounded by people that believed in him and saw him not as “low-income”, “a minority”, or whatever label he had been categorized as in his life, he was a person, a student with goals and a future.
This experience taught me how a quality education can change a student’s life. It was the brilliant and innovative teacher of the classroom we taught in that believed in her students and saw a need for a more global and interactive curriculum that gave these students the chance to flourish. For that, I am forever grateful.
Now the big one: Why music education?
Just a quick recap, I have been tasked with assisting the development of Flying Kites’ first ever music program. That’s exciting and terrifying and everything in between and it got me thinking about why music was so important to me. I started playing music when I was just 9 years old (that’s over half of my life spent studying, practicing, and playing the same instrument). When given the option to buy or rent my first flute, my parents said you either buy it and stick with it or you’re not doing it — the rest is history. Music has given me some of my best friends and a community of support. It has given me the opportunity to visit and perform in places and for people I never dreamed of when I picked up my first Gemeinhardt. It has gotten me through my lowest lows and been a part of some of my highest achievements. It has taught me lessons that I will treasure for my entire life and given me mentors with whom I will do the same. Being a part of music education definitively changed my life for the better.
More importantly, as a brilliant music educator proclaimed to me just a few weeks ago, music is joy. Music gives people the ability to express themselves in a creative way. Music brings people together, in harmony, and transcends language. To start kids on the path of that joy, of creation, of working together, and of love is an opportunity I still have trouble grasping.
Why? The ever present question of this blog post…
I want to be the right person for the job. I want to make sure these kids are started on the path with the tools they need to succeed which includes a teacher who is both knowledgable and passionate. I believe I fit some of those requirements but I didn’t study music education in university. I’m not versed in the differences between Bach and Beethoven, nor have I taught music classes before. Yet, I do have a passion and people to guide me in this journey. At the recommendation of that same incredibly respected music educator, I have borrowed countless books ranging from the basics of music education and teaching to transgress, to books on caring and power and compassion. Although I lack a formal degree in music education, I do have the desire to learn and ask those with experience for advice. While I’m honestly not sure if that is enough, I will do my best to ensure that I am the right person for the job come October and if I’m not, I will subject my place in the ensemble to find someone who can do everything these kids deserve and more.
That is what music taught me to do.
