A bit of history, a bit of wisdom

I remember it exactly, that day in mid-August 1995. I was standing in the kitchen of the guest cabin at lake where we were staying for the week before the end of the Summer. I had just received my class list for the fall semester in the mail and Mom had brought it from the house with the rest of the mail. I scanned it once, then again, and one more time to confirm my worst fears.

I wasn't looking forward to one single class except Marching Band, and the only reason it qualified as a class was because they gave a grade.

I was disgusted, frustrated, and a little depressed looking forward to a semester of general misery with two theory classes, piano, voice, and a couple pedagogy classes alongside drumline. I think it all confused Mom a little bit when she realized that I wasn't happy and immediately asked what was wrong. I looked over the list one more time and explained the reticence towards returning to WVU for my sophomore year. The obvious answer wasn't so obvious to me, when she said "Change your major."

"Oh yeah Mom, I'll just change my major. I'll just do something else other than music. Right."
"Why not?"
"I don't know, maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm 19 years old and 17 of those years have been spent with music." I truly had spent all that time wrapped in the warmth that was a 4/4 beat with interesting tonalities and some off beat stuff thrown in for fun and interest.
"So?"
"So, what? I can't just quit music. I don't even know where I'd go. Besides, I've put way too much into this to let it all go now."
"I think you're making a huge mistake."
"I don't have any other option. Where would I go, Mom?"
"It's not like you have to be great at what you want to do right now, just pick something that seems like fun. What do you think you'd enjoy?"
"The only thing I can think of is theatre, but that's no way to make a living."
"Who cares? If you like it, you should do it. If you go back and hate this semester, you'll regret not making this decision now. Why don't you go to Morgantown and talk to someone about it."
"The only one I can think of is Harold. I'll go talk to him next week, then we'll see."

A week later I went and spoke with Harold Surratt, one of the professors, acting to be exact. I had met him the previous semester through my girlfriend, at the time. He was directing A Midsummer's Night Dream with an amazing set of actors and I kind of worked security for the dressing rooms while the actors were on stage. He had done an amazing job with that play and Comedy of Errors the semester before. He was friendly and I always tried to say "Hi." whenever I saw him around. The conversation with him was probably a lot shorter than the one I had with Mom. I caught him in the lobby at the Creative Arts Center:

"Hey Harold, I was thinking about becoming a Theatre Major."
"You should."
"Well, that was quick."
"I think you'd be a good fit here, and this is a great department to be in. We're all like one big family."
"...But after I graduate, what will the job market look like? How will I make it out there with a theatre degree?"
"There was one important word there. Degree. It doesn't really matter the degree. People who hire are looking for any degree, they don't care what it is and besides, most people never work in the field they studied in college anyways - so why not get your degree with people you like." He grinned because he knew that the people in the theatre department were infinitely more likable than most of the stodgy professors in the music department. I laughed.
"Okay, but I checked the class lists and yours are full. I'm not coming unless I can be in your class."
"Just fill out the paperwork and sign up for my class. I'll make sure that you get into it." And he did.

He became my favorite, most influential teacher that I ever had. No one was better.

In the end, I made a change I didn't regret. My classes were amazing. The department was wonderful. The professors went by their first names most of the time because it truly was that type of atmosphere and it seemed that they didn't need the title of "Professor So and So". It was like it got in the way of their work which was more important than their ego and that was a refreshing change from the stuffiness of the Music Department.

You know, Mom had always bragged about how I sang before I spoke. I had accolades for All-State performances, all-county, competitions, countless rehearsal hours to go along with every other kid's work load, drum corps, performances in front of thousands, my Marine Music Award at graduation, my friends, my family, my reputation - they all had music melded directly to them. It truly oozed from my pores because I believed it was all I knew. I nearly sacrificed my potential at the altar of familiarity and what may have been worse; I almost forced myself to hate music because of my narrow mind.

The music department at WVU was amazing. There were incredibly talented people there, but regardless, if I was one or not, I felt like it was turning from creative expression to a form of audible math where everything was formulaic and creativity along with individuality was kind of frowned upon. I now know that there's a lot more to music than what I believed then, but I feel that, had I not changed when I did, I would be a in a far worse position in life now. I feel I am exponentially wiser, not only because I was a Theatre Major (I only had one semester), but because I can say that when it seemed like there was nowhere to go, when everything in me said that I should stay, I left. I moved laterally to move further forward than I would have by beating my head against the wall that was holding me back. I did it because I was wise... to believe people who were wiser than me.