Growing up in a small town, the arts were woven into the rhythm of my school years. So when I heard that my hometown middle school no longer has a music class, it honestly made my heart sink. Music wasn’t just another subject for me — it was a doorway.
I still remember the teachers who opened that door.
Johnnie Elrod, with her musical plays in elementary school, letting us sing and perform like it mattered.
Jennifer Lynn, who had such a genuine love for music that she stayed after school to help me learn the clarinet, one squeaky note at a time.
And Bryan Henson, my 8th-grade band teacher, whose energy made being part of something bigger than myself feel exciting.
Even though I didn’t continue marching band, the spark they lit never went out.
It stayed with me through high school and college — teaching myself guitar, taking piano lessons, and filling quiet spaces with sound. Music has been the rhythm that carries me through the highs and the lows. It’s a language all its own, one that lets you express things you can’t always say out loud.
That’s why it hurts to know students might not get the same chance.
The arts aren’t extras. They’re lifelines.
They teach confidence, curiosity, and creativity. They shape how we see the world. They give kids a safe place to belong.
Every student deserves access to that kind of magic — the kind that stays with you long after the last bell rings.
