Two weeks ago I was in NYC having just finished up a great conference.  I was in the city that literally doesn’t sleep.  A place where you go out for dinner AFTER the show @10:00 p.m. and hit the sack @midnight.  A place where on a Wednesday or Thursday night, performing venues are packed with people.  A place where all night long you hear sirens and honking outside your hotel window.  All. Night. Long.  One night I swear someone dropped a truck outside my window.  A place where the airport (one of three) is ridiculously busy and a cab or Uber ride will easily cost you $50 to get you through a parking lot that professes to be traffic. I love it.  I love the hustle and bustle, I love the subway. I love that there are things to do all the time, everywhere.  I love the amazing food, the fantastic music and the beautiful art.  It’s a wonderful place to visit, but I don’t think I could live there.

Today I’ve just finished my 2nd day of a conference in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.  No flight this time.  It would take longer to get a plane from Lincoln to Chicago to Sioux Falls than it would to drive.  It took my friend all day to fly here from Ohio.  So yes, I drove to Sioux Falls.  Once past Omaha, I took I-20 straight north for a couple of hours.  The rolling hills and fields were covered in fall colors and the cloudless sky was bright blue.  They don’t call this area of the country “big sky country” without reason. In those couple of hours I encountered very little traffic, I saw very few buildings, except for in Sioux City Iowa where, for whatever reason, the highway is always under construction.  I made a stop for gas in a little bitty town(?) just across the South Dakota line, with a restroom stop where the sign on the ladies room door said something like “sorry – the lights aren’t working.  Come see us for a flashlight or use the men’s bathroom”.  I made my choice.  The rest of the trip was uneventful, arriving at a place where the pace is slower and the people aren’t in a rush to get anywhere unless it’s to greet a friend.  And sure, there’s not a Met or Guggenheim here, but there are those who are just as passionate about making music and sharing it with kids.  It’s a wonderful place to visit, but I don’t think I could live here.

Day after tomorrow I fly to Orlando for meetings.  I won’t lie to you, I’m REALLY looking forward to the warm temps and I’m excited to be visiting somewhere new.  I’m sure there will be more contrasts to the places I’ve been lately – differences in culture, geography, cuisine – but what all of these places have had in common are people who are PASSIONATE about music education for all kids.  These are MY people.  This is my community.  Whether at a busy place like the Met or in a sweet little South Dakota town, I feel comfortable with my music family.  I don’t know if it’s like that for other disciplines.  Do engineers get together and talk passionately about their “art form”?  How about doctors and lawyers?  I don’t know.  All I know is that I can go anywhere in this country, with music people of like mind and no matter where it is, it’s home. At least for a little while.

Why wouldn’t I want my students to find this for themselves?  What a wonderful thing, to be able to go anywhere and find like minded people.  People who accept you right off the bat because you understand the experience, the emotions of having been a part of making music with others.  People who will be your friends for life.  Whether it’s in the heart of Manhattan or in a pretty little town like Sioux Falls, I hope music can help you find your people.