A Love Letter to Percussion and the Percussive Arts Society

A few days ago, my percussion duo was accepted to present at virtual PASIC (the Percussive Arts Society International Convention). For the non-percussionists in the room, think about something Midwest, etc. equivalent. Held every year both in-person and virtually, It's often considered a large step for any percussionist's career and is an overwhelmingly exciting opportunity for our little home-grown project.

Now, here's the thing. If you know me, I love to move the finish line on myself. My expectations of myself are often wildly unreasonable. Call it eldest child syndrome.

The moment my husband called me with the news, I was stunned. We had worked for months on our proposal and our product, and I felt like I had come so far only to lose.

My brain immediately went to “.....virtual?”

Not “We got accepted to PASIC.”

Not “This is a huge opportunity.”

Not “People applied for this and we were selected to present in any context for literally thousands of people.”

Literally, my first instinct was disappointment that it wasn’t an in-person showcase. And then, about ten minutes later, I began to giggle at myself in embarrassment, because what a wildly misguided reaction to something that might be a game-changer for us. Rest assured, it quickly dawned on me how exciting this was, and I finally got it together.

The reason I started with this story is because this experience helped me come to a realization I desperately needed this season. I am exceptionally blessed in my life with things I don't appreciate enough, as we all are sometimes. Between serving as California Chapter President for the Percussive Arts Society, multiple teaching jobs, and the performing life of my duo, I’ve found myself feeling something that can sometimes be hard to hold onto these days: genuine gratitude and excitement for what I do as a percussionist.

If you follow me on social media, you've probably seen posts (maybe a few too many) about my event season and my work with the Percussive Arts Society. It's actually the reason that I'm running a little bit behind on this blog, and the reason that I couldn't think of a topic for my next post. I then realized that maybe the perfect topic was sitting right in front of me, because I've been feeling so reinvigorated with love for my field as a percussion educator that it's worth writing a whole post about. It's nice, because with the state of the world and education right now, I think we can agree it's good to be able to feel that way about something. So, here we go.

Let's start with "why?"

I've been getting hit with this question a LOT this season. Not just about my service with the PAS organization, but also about my husband and I's duo project, the amount I pour into my students, etc. And I think it's fair in some respect. All of the educational concerts Metaphor Duo has done this season have been free; my role as California Chapter President is unpaid, and I even pay dues to the organization. I do get paid for my work as an educator, but many people remind me that like most teachers, I could be considered underpaid, so why do all this? Why not go out and "get what I'm worth" and leave it behind? Well, let's pick it apart.

Why do I love Percussion?

Percussion, in my opinion, is a wildly underrated art form. It remains one of the most liberating, creative, and surprising activities I have ever participated in, and frankly, I've been in a love affair with it for most of my life. The thing that is so incredible about it is that despite our ability to push it to its most extreme, chaotic, difficult limits, percussion has one of the lowest "entry fees" for newcomers. It's very accessible, and I love that. If you can tap on a table and have some sense of time, you at least have somewhere to start as a middle schooler.

When I was moving to middle school, fifth graders were ushered into the good old instrument petting zoo to try out and pick an instrument. We were an arts community, so some form of choir, band, or orchestra was required. I had been a choir kid for some time, but was excited about the idea of getting to choose an instrument, if not completely paralyzed with indecision.

Well, the decision was quickly made for me. As I went from table to table, I got shut down from most instruments. Granted, this was the early 2000's, so maybe pedagogy has become more inclusive since then, but most instruments I wasn't able to make a sound on, and if I could, the adults worried I may be too small to carry the larger ones. One by one, they were eliminated from the list until I saw a line of people for the back room, and my curiosity was piqued. My dad walked me past the line of middle school boys to ask the band director if I could try out for percussion, and she was supportive although she explained that there was only one spot left as it was so popular, hence the line. My dad, despite being told by other dads in the line that "his daughter might get her feelings hurt" (yes, that was a real thing that was said), let me do it anyway.

Big surprise, I beat out ten boys for the spot, and remained the only girl in that middle school percussion section for three years. (This might be another post later on).

The point is not to make a statement about gender, but a statement about how easy it was for my friends and I to pick this up and fall in love with it. It was accepting, nonjudgmental, and allowed me to express my creativity.

Now that I'm an educator myself, I see students like my former self all the time. Maybe they're not sure where they fit in, maybe they feel like they're "not good at anything else", or something of the like. It's nice to see their faces light up when they make progress and the relief when things don't fall apart if it doesn't go right the first time. And for students like me who started out shy, it's been the most amazing journey to watch them grow into themselves and find their voice simply through banging on a drum and keeping time with their friends.

All music and instruments are amazing in their own right. But how many art forms can win a grammy (looking at you, Third Coast) AND also offer something as simple yet effective as community bucket bands? How cool is that?

So if I started in middle school, maybe you're wondering what the motivations were to stick with it all the way through to a doctorate? Well, that's where college and the Percussive Arts Society come in.

Why Percussive Arts Society?

Fun trivia fact: the ability to get a degree in percussion at the collegiate level has only been a thing for about 76 years, started in 1950. The first work to be technically be considered a concerto for percussion? 1929. The first person to make a full-time career exclusively playing percussion (who is a deaf woman by the way??? Re: the incredible Evelyn Glennie) did so in the 1980's.

There are two things that are incredible to me about this information: First, think of how far we have come in such a short amount of time. And second, think about how young we are compared to the rest of our colleagues in music, some of whom's craft has been practiced since the 1700's.

When I went to college for percussion, I had simultaneously never been so excited, and somehow yet felt isolated. I had grown up in small towns all my life, and attending a program at a small local university was no different. My professor was incredible, motivated, and was just as invested as I was, but sometimes the creeping fear that maybe there were better things to do with my life would take over.

It might also surprise you to know that as percussionists, despite all of our formalities and scholarly work, people sometimes still get hit with the occasional "I shouldn't have to listen to this, it isn't music" (heard in response to a percussion masters recital), or "I don't believe percussionists need to warm-up, they ruin the intonation of the band" (said at a music educators conference a few years ago).

Thankfully, these sentiments are usually in the minority, but when you're in the vulnerable stages of studying your craft, it can sometimes make it feel like a waste of time.

In my senior year of college, our teacher had worked overtime to get my four friends and I an opportunity to attend PASIC in Indianapolis through a school fund. I had heard a little bit about Percussive Arts Society, and my professor seemed to think that exposing us to PASIC would be a game-changer, but I was still unsure.

Let me tell you, I was floored. Being from a small town and seeing PASIC (the Percussive Arts Society International Convention) was like being Harry Potter and discovering the Wizarding World for the first time. I wasn't weird, out of place, or wasting my time. I just hadn't found my people.

I don't really know how to paint a picture in words, but I'll do my best:

Last year's convention (which was a happy celebration of our 50th anniversary) saw more than 7,800 percussionists from at least 25 countries gathered in one city over the course of a week. Hundreds of vendors filled the expo hall with interactive demonstrations, and over 100 performances, educational sessions, and interactive workshops on every aspect of percussion you could imagine, from drum-set to African Drumming to orchestra to drum corps. Sure, it's noisy, but in the best way.

When we had to eventually go back home, it wasn't quite as bad as going to live with the Dursley's, but going back to my small town and missing that community was somewhat challenging.

The good thing is, not only does PAS host the biggest percussion convention, but they are also the largest percussion organization. I was ecstatic once I realized that PAS has nearly 50 state chapters and has even expanded to around 25 international chapters as well. It sounds like a little bit of a plug, but I can't overstate how much I've enjoyed contributing to my local chapter, even before becoming president.

Not only do they provide membership to professionals, but there are opportunities for educators to provide group membership for their students. We have resource archives, magazines, scholarships, and everything in between. To know that our relatively young field has this massive organization working to move us forward is so exciting.

As an educator, it's provided me with the opportunity to connect with fellow teachers and remember that in a time where educating at all levels can be very challenging, I'm far from being alone. Having taken over the role as Chapter president, I've had the opportunity to help provide scholarships, mentor students, and start to change things for the better and work with communities to bring percussion events to their doorstep.

So, just to cap this off, yes, I’m SO excited about virtual PASIC. The honor to participate at all is overwhelming, and the scope of the privilege isn't lost on me. I hope that our multimedia concert reaches the audience that it's made for, and I'm just excited to be involved.

And if I can come full circle...why again do I spend countless unpaid hours organizing events, mentoring students, building projects, commissioning music, traveling, teaching, performing, and pouring everything I have into percussion education? Is it worth it?

Yes. Unequivocally so. This field gave me a place to belong. It gave me confidence, purpose, community, creativity, and eventually a career that I could have only dreamed of. And the best part is that now I get the privilege of helping create that experience for other people with this amazing organization, and I can't wait to do it for many years to come.

PS: check out everything I talked about and more here at www.pas.org.