Biking For Band – Post 2

• This isn’t about me.
• It’s about your students.
• It’s about YOU.

Admittedly, my experiences with Mt. Kilimanjaro and Everest Base Camp helped. I had become ill on those quests, but persevered. That resolve came into play here, but once I accepted and adapted to my riding conditions, the fact that I was being selfish became clear. This crazy ride, on a route that I knew would be tough, was about bringing attention to the incredible importance of both what we teach and what our needs truly are. What really surprised me though, were the people I didn’t expect to be a part of this, yet who have become the biggest part: the people I’ve simply met on the road. I’ve had so very many conversations with people who resonated with the importance of both the impact of music education on themselves, their children and their grandchildren, as well as those special teachers who are no longer in the profession. Perhaps most amazing was the length to which folks spoke to those things. Sure, I often get asked where I started from, where am I going, and where’s my team (I get a good laugh out of that one), but when folks take a look at my riding kit (jersey and shorts) or directly ask me “why”, the chat takes quite the turn. It is exciting, saddening, invigorating and heartbreaking to hear their stories, the difference music has made, the difference that one teacher made – the same difference you’re making right now through what you do. But in the end, how to move forward? How to figure out a path, a route that leads through the challenges our vocation and we are facing? For now, the best that I can do is to keep moving, keep climbing, keep facing into the wind and the heat. I believe the answers are up ahead, just like what’s beyond the desert, or the next climb, or beyond the heat: the answers are waiting. I just need to keep moving, trying, searching and doing what I set out to do . . . just like you.