American String Teachers Association Artist teacher Award
I was honored by my colleagues in the American String teachers Association this year with the prestigious Artist Teacher award. The same award given to luminaries including Midori and Itzhak Perlman, there is no more prestigious award given.
Now that the occasion has come and gone, there are a few things I could say about this award.
Leading up to the award, I had been considering ways that I might pivot in my career. The work is hard. Maybe I could do some thing that would just feel easier to do. Sometimes it feels frustrating and discouraging to do this work. Also, do I really want to keep doingAlso, do I really want to keep doing one thing or do I want to take the rest of my career and devote it towards other things.
After receiving the award, I feel motivated and inspired to keep going. And I’m sure there are plenty of ways that I can also explore new work at the same. And I’m sure there are plenty of ways that I can also explore new work at the same time. For example, I can mentor youngI can mentor young leaders more in the field coming up behind me. I can get back into more performing composing and producing if I wantI can get back into more performing composing and producing if I want. I can explore doing work throughI can explore doing work through the social impact film that we are releasing this year and see where it takes me. But if anything, I know that I want to keep doing the work of teaching and influencing the culture of our music education community.
Here is the acceptance speech I gave.
Looking around this room, I see extraordinary educators and colleagues. You inspire me, and I’m honored to be among you.
When I was five, my mom — who’s here — sat with me every day and helped me practice Suzuki violin. She and my dad gave up their dreams of singing careers and promised to give me the best musical education they could. Early on, I played to make them proud.
In fourth grade, I played Star Wars for my class — to make my teacher proud.
Later, I practiced harder so the youth orchestra kids from affluent neighborhoods would accept me.
In high school, I joined a rock band — because I wanted the girls and the cool boys to like me.
That experience changed everything. It showed me how much I didn’t understand about music. So I kept entering new musical worlds — Jazz, R&B, Blues, Latin, and Appalachian traditions. Each time, I was humbled… inspired… and confronted again with how much I had to learn.
And each time, I just wanted to be accepted. To be considered worthy of belonging.
25 years ago I thought: maybe I can help musicians like me avoid some of the struggles I encountered venturing into new musical territories. I had a vision to expand the culture of music education — fostering respect for diverse traditions, people, and communities beyond what we typically call “classical training.”
But I underestimated something.
Becoming a teacher would be just as challenging as learning new musical languages.
Teachers were a community I deeply wanted to belong to. I worked to become a better teacher because I wanted the respect of real teachers. And it took a lot of work … for reasons I don’t need to explain to this room.
For much of my life, I chased legitimacy — trying to be an “authentic” jazz player… or fiddler… or teacher… hoping to be accepted.
But in recent years, I realized something:
We can learn new things about music and the world without abandoning who we are.
We don’t need to become someone else.
We need to bring ourselves.
Now, after teaching my own children Suzuki, I’m reminded:
Belonging begins with belonging to yourself.
When we model curiosity, vulnerability, and humanity, we give our students permission to explore new directions, take risks, and grow.
We show them that music is not only about precision — but about connection, identity, and courage.
And we model this when we keep expanding ourselves — even when it means making mistakes and entering unfamiliar territory as beginners again.
Thank you for the work you do.
Thank you for helping students not only learn music…
but find their voice,
their confidence,
and their place in the world.
Thank you.
