I had music teachers who made a difference in my life. Some positive and some negative but let's go with the positive here.
By the time I was fully immersed in my music studies, my PTSD was raging. I didn't advance into higher choirs and had a ton of anxiety around this one professor who happened to be my advisor. I was taking beginning conducting from him and struggling with it. I found myself quite nervous every time I got up to conduct the class. I'm getting emotional now just writing this.
One day he called on me to conduct the class. I got up, took my baton and music, started to conduct. As I moved my hands, a dark cloud came over me. Like a dementor from Harry Potter. I got this awful feeling in my stomach. I looked at my professor out of the corner of my eye and I could hear the voice of my narcissistic grandfather who had died several years before. "You'll never make it, you can't do this, you won't go to grad school, what makes you think that you can sing, you can't even conduct, you're just a waste." Hot tears clouded my vision and my hands started to shake. My service dog was attached to my chair by his leash and was straining to get to me. I dropped my hands in the middle of the piece, grabbed my purse and my dog, and fled the room. I don't even know where I went afterwards.
That night I wrote a letter to my professor. I hadn't realized the extent of the trauma from my grandfather and I still realizing what had happened during the abusive relationship. I told him things that my grandfather had said about my original psychology major and how I'd never make it, that I'd be some two-bit social worker. How that it had been transferred to music by my brain. This professor physically resembled my grandfather and wore similar types of clothing. I went to school the next day, put the letter in his mailbox and fled back home.
The day after delivery, I went to school again. I didn't go to class but I decided that I better talk to this professor while this was fresh or I might as well forget about the music program. He was in charge of the two advanced choirs that I was having such trouble auditioning for. He saw me by his office and called me in. I was utterly terrified and almost in tears already. He had the letter on his desk.
The memories are a bit foggy, I was such a wreck and I've been in tears while writing this but I'm trying to accurately remember what happened.
I was shaking in his office. It was packed full of music and was a huge fire hazard. My backpack was on the floor next to his desk, I had left it in the classroom when I fled. He said that he didn't realize that I was holding so much pain as he always saw me smiling and laughing. He had no idea how difficult being around him was. He asked how he could ease the pain. Then I lost it. I started sobbing. Loud, hot tears that burned all the way up from the depths of my soul. He handed me some tissues and I constantly mopped my face. I said that I didn't know. I was just realizing all this plus some other stuff (I really didn't want to talk about the rape) and I had no idea how to deal. He said that he realized why I was so nervous singing solo around him and that my voice coach said that I was ready for a more advanced choir. That put a small smile on my face. But I still had to deal with conducting class, now this choir and other classes. He asked me to stand up and conduct him playing the piano. I was handed a baton, music and a stand. It was an extremely simple piece, I could've played it. I gave him the cue and we started. As we started into the music, that dark cloud descended again. He was looking right at me which didn't help. Suddenly, he gives me this big, encouraging smile. My hands are hardly conducting but he says, "It's just me, Harley, not your grandfather. I want you to succeed and I'm here to help you." He kept playing and I tried to keep conducting. My service dog was nudging at me to alert to my rising anxiety but I tried to keep conducting. My knees shook. He got to the end without me. But we tried again and he kept reassuring me.
When it came to class, I wasn't sure how it would work. But he gave me that big smile and I could see him mouthing words to me. He gave me the courage to keep going. I got a B+ in Conducting!
The next semester came and I was given a clearance code for Madrigals. He came up to me after the first class and said, "Carol was right, you are ready for this level of music."
Thank you Dr. Mulienburg.
