Jubilee teaches violin lessons, coaches a chamber group, and is always looking for ways to build community through music.

My mother was a piano teacher, and when I was growing up our house was full of extra pianos. My mom was always buying instruments to give away to her students, because she believed that cost shouldn’t inhibit anyone’s access to a quality instrument. This vision of equity in the music field is something that I’ve tried to carry on. That’s why I chose to study community advocacy alongside violin performance.  

As a performer and community-based educator, I’m dedicated to advocating for classical music and finding ways for it to flourish in our society. In 2018, I served as assistant concertmaster for an event focused on racial reconciliation and national peace. I later worked on community-based leadership and grassroots organizing projects as well as initiatives to create affordable housing and improve food security. This work helped me realize that I could not divorce my calling as a musician (someone who sees to emotional needs) from my responsibility to address people’s material needs as well. 

Longy is the only school I know of that offers a pedagogical approach, school culture, and opportunities that deeply integrate the arts with social connection and transformation. In our contemporary times, I can’t imagine music looking any other way.  

My dreams are to eventually start a chamber music and teaching program that’s also a community pillar and creatively supports families and youth. This would include addressing issues in affordable housing, food security, and crime. I feel privileged to have worked with all sorts of students over the years, who have stage fright, tantrums, ADHD, Down Syndrome, and many different backgrounds. Teaching is worth the challenge when I see my students’ passion and enthusiasm for learning about music. At Longy, I look forward to collaborating with peers and faculty who lead not just by their accomplishments, but also by their compassion for the lives they touch. 

Santiago Barragan Noguera is a musician, writer, dancer and content creator. He is Longy School of Music’s first Equity Scholarship recipient and will be pursuing a Master of Music in Jazz & Contemporary Music as a guitarist at Longy.

I feel extremely grateful to be the first recipient of Longy’s Equity Scholarship. So many talented and passionate artists around the world are unable to access their dreams because of financial hardship or other barriers. I’m inspired when I think of the difference that scholarships like this will make in the lives of musicians and educators.

While I was born in Bogotá, Colombia, I moved to France when I was 18 to study at the Conservatory of Nancy, where I received a diploma with special mention. I continued my studies at the Berklee College of Music, in Guitar Performance and Jazz Composition.

I’m so excited that Longy has given me the opportunity to continue to grow as a musician and educator. I believe we should craft learning systems that facilitate the acquisition of new skills and knowledge. It’s also essential to promote the public’s understanding of the arts and to acknowledge the monumental role that artists have as agents of change.

The real magic of music lies in collaboration. I’ve found that working with other artists is a way to create meaningful shared experiences. It’s so important to surround yourself with a team that believes in your art and supports your point of view. That’s why I chose Longy—I’ll be able to curate performances that truly reflect my artistic vision.

After years of performing in choral ensembles, I became a voice teacher. My teaching career is a form of activism; I constantly advocate for my students to be more authentically themselves in both their performances and repertoire. It’s a fundamental need—for educators, institutions, and artists to create space for real representation and inclusivity.

As a queer artist, I think it’s imperative to bring that perspective to my performances, curating more visibility on stage and in concert halls. So many queer artists are still discouraged from being their authentic selves onstage and this creates a toxic and exclusionary atmosphere.

My students have pushed me to be more vulnerable and authentic, and watching them perform is both a privilege and an emotional experience for me. I’m able to appreciate the hard work and time they’ve spent working on their craft. In the end, my biggest inspiration is watching people find joy in their art.

Equity Scholarship recipient Arson Fahim fell in love with music by chance. One day at age 5, in the Afghan refugee camp in Pakistan where Arson lived, he walked into a room where people were watching the World War II film The Pianist. The movie portrays the true story of Holocaust survivor and musician Wladyslav Szpilman, and Arson was captivated by what he saw.

I remember thinking, “Wow, how could the sound of a piano save someone’s life?” All those years, I dreamed that one day I could touch a real piano.

In 2012 when my family settled in Kabul, I heard the piano again at a children’s learning centre in the city. From behind a closed door of a room came this wonderful sound—someone was playing a beautiful piece of music. I knew I should not go in uninvited, but I couldn’t help myself. The teacher was giving a lesson, but he let me walk up to the baby grand piano. I gently touched it and pressed every single key, for the first time in my life. From that moment, I knew I had to learn piano. I had to become a musician.

DeShaun Gordon-King is a flutist who performs in a variety of genres and styles. He is pursuing a Graduate Performance Diploma at Longy School of Music to help him become a more impactful artist in the modern music scene.

Being a musician means you can talk to everyone. I think of music as a divine form of communication.

I was born into an artistic family, surrounded by a love of music, so my journey as a musician started early. It hasn’t always been easy—I’ve had my instrument stolen, I’ve doubted myself, and I’ve faced rejection. But I know music brings healing. It is important to hold on to the joy that music brings, and keep my mind on what inspires him as I evolve in my art.

I’ve also been transformed by experiencing other musicians’ performances. When I saw Jazzmeia Horn—in the last concert I attended before quarantine began—I was moved by her elegance and stage presence. The performance was so spellbinding that it reminded me of how jazz catalyzed my love of music and how it was always with me even though I’ve departed quite a ways from it. That particular performance showed me that I needed to bring jazz back into my life.

So far in my career, I’ve been able to help children from a variety of backgrounds engage in and foster a passion for music. I was involved with KidzNotes, an El Sistema-inspired program in Durham, and was the manager of the North Carolina Youth Wind Ensemble.

I chose Longy because the school offers a breadth of programming to help me continue my career as a musician. I hope to discover and refine my niche as an artist and bring audiences an experience that transcends genre and leaves them feeling enriched.

Macaulley Whitlock is a cellist and teacher who comes from a family full of musicians and educators. She is coming to Longy from Monterrey, Mexico, where she has been working to develop a strings and community outreach program for local children.

Starting the “Huasteca Adacemy” in Monterrey showed me how easily music can cross borders. I have been working to develop my school’s strings program and reach out to the community around the school. Once a week after school I bring instruments to the kids who live nearby and we learn violin, play games, read books, and eat snacks. In spite of the language barrier, we’ve managed to communicate and learn together. It has been such a beautiful experience.

It’s so special when I get to see the impact of music with my students first-hand. I’ll never forget when my 4th grade small group was setting up for their lesson and I overheard one of the students saying “Yes! Time for violin! I’ve been waiting all day for this—I can finally be myself!” Moments like that fill my heart with joy and show me how transformative music education is for young musicians.

I am inspired by all the phenomenal music educators who I’ve gotten to observe, practice with, and learn from throughout my childhood and career. I chose to come to Longy for my Masters of Music in Music Education because I want to be part of a positive change in education, and I believe in making music and education more accessible and equitable for all children. I always keep that “why” in mind as I grow as a teacher and a person. Being a music educator may be emotionally exhausting at times, but it’s also so magical, joyful, and human.

“Music connects people and you need to share it with all your heart.”

Kateri is an arts educator and a multidisciplinary artist who cares deeply about social justice. Her recent collaborations have included work with the Filipino American Symphony Orchestra, Arts for Incarcerated Youth Network, Gay Men’s Chorus of LA, and the Khalsa Peace Corps, all in addition to her own music-making and teaching.

“I attended the Orange County School of the Arts and Cal Poly Pomona where I studied with Longy alumna and GRAMMY-winning pianist, Dr. Nadia Shpachenko and Mike Garson (keyboardist for David Bowie). When I discovered Longy’s Master of Arts in Teaching program—everything about it felt like me. I’m so happy to walk in their footsteps!”

I think all musicians should ask themselves three questions: “Who am I?” followed by “What am I capable of?” and finally “What do I want to do in the future?” These questions have no simple answer and are dependent on our situations and stage in life, but I know that contemplating my answers will lead me in the right direction for my music studies and career.

My ultimate goal is to make an impact on the world by expressing myself through music. I want to use my knowledge to teach people how to listen to music differently, to promote artistic literacy, and to sow seeds of inspiration in their minds. I have an ambition to be not just a performer but also a disseminator of ideas. I want people to understand and be moved by the rich variety of music that is possible.

“I come from a family of strong female leaders, and every day I’m inspired by them. I want to be an inspiration to other composers and encourage young women and women of color to join this field. My advice to those who are just starting out: don’t pressure yourself to be ‘the best.’ Sometimes when we feel less represented, we put unnecessary pressure on ourselves that can get in the way of our craft.

Use the beginning of your path in music to explore things you’ve never heard—and re-visit the favorites you listen to all the time. Don’t compare yourself with others or worry if other people will like what you’ve written—decide if you like it. Let your journey be your own.”

I want the world to know what music can do and why musicians devote so much time and effort to it, as music is a language that expresses the things that words cannot. This power really shines when you allow music to move you and tell you something new.

As I studied music throughout my childhood, it slowly drew me in further and further, as I realized it enabled me to share emotions. All my life, I have never been demonstrative. But experiencing emotions through music was somehow liberating. Suddenly, I could share my inner life with SOUND. Although I am much more open to sharing myself with others now, music continues to give me a place to express everything from love and wonder to pain and anger—in short, to communicate with listeners in a different way.

Hollyn is a woman on a mission. As a trumpeter and music educator, she is breaking barriers and empowering others through music equity. Her studies have taken her from the Baton Rouge school system to teaching abroad in Chile and the LA Phil’s YOLA National Festival, and most recently a music education degree at Louisiana State University.

“My passion for social justice has come to the forefront of my goals. I see myself working in existing programs that use music as a vehicle for social change, as well as blazing new paths. I want everyone, regardless of background, to have a positive and meaningful interaction with music, and I am committed to making that a reality.”

I know from my own experience that musicians are agents of change. After joining my hometown music academy, I decided to give a series of free Christmas shows, including one for children living with cancer. I clearly remember, though it was many years ago, that I felt the kids’ sadness and hopelessness as soon as I arrived. Before the concert, one boy seemed especially sad, as if he was tired of fighting, as if all the light in his world had been reduced into darkness. As we started singing the first carol, I was trying—through my performance—to let them him and the other kids know that everything was going to be okay, that they needed to keep fighting in order to survive.

I started to see in the child’s eyes the light of hope as we sang. During the performance, his face suddenly changed into one big smile, glowing with happiness. It looked as if all darkness had disappeared, turning into light. I will never forget that moment, when I witnessed the power of music to move the heart of a person, completely. I then understood how music can transform people, and that musicians are indeed agents of change.

“Longy is the right fit for me because of the intimate conservatory environment it provides and the noticeable kindness amongst its students and administration, and the quality of Longy’s faculty.

My favorite job was probably being on the national tour of a Broadway production. I got to work with so many talented musicians, actors and dancers! My year on tour  reminded me not only of the joy of music in my life, but also the importance of bringing music to the lives of others.

Seeing the impact this production had on 2,000 people every night inspired me.  Audience members filled the house to see important stories being told on the big stage. It was an exhilarating experience to say the least.

Visit Tyler James’ Website 

Emmanuel is an electric guitarist and composer, by way of violin (age 9), piano (age 10) and video games. He received his first guitar at age 11 and developed a true passion. “What appealed to me about jazz was that it challenged me as a listener and a player but retained the vibrancy of spirit found in the blues, gospel, and R&B. Over time I began to infuse my music with more Latin and Classical traditions, while also finding new sonic ground in my trio. Simply put, it was great fun!

I learned that the changes I needed to make to keep improving as a musician—be patient, be a better listener, be more disciplined, and find joy and beauty in everyday life—were the same needed to be a better person overall. Practice is not just about flawless execution. All those hours spent refining our art help us make deep connections and a difference in people’s lives. These qualities enable me to connect with both bandmates and audiences.”

Visit Emmanuel Ramirez’s website.

“Music is incomparably humanizing,” offers Ellie MacPhee, who will be joining the first class of Longy’s new one-year Master of Music in Music Education program this fall.

Ellie grew up in South Carolina and began her path as a musician with traditional folk and bluegrass tunes, which propelled her to study classical violin. She has integrated her strong convictions about prison reform and community engagement—with her own artistry and leadership—to make a serious impact.

“I spent time doing outreach performances in the summer through ENCORE Chamber Music. During my sophomore year at Oberlin Conservatory, I attended a lecture about choir programs inside the prison systems; this inspired me to brainstorm ideas about how to involve strings in this important work.”

“I have always wanted to be a performer and a mentor to others. Having learned from incredible teachers myself, I wish to contribute and give back to my community.

When I was young, I was not taught to read music properly: no notes, keys, nor time signatures. It wasn’t until I moved from Indonesia to the US at age 13 that I discovered how crucial musical notation was! Through effort, patience, and love, my teachers were able to open my eyes to a whole new world. I became sensitive to the significance of each nuance and the enormous effect of the smallest notation.

The process was not easy and my teachers’ persistence and trust in me means more than words could ever describe. These teachers are the people I most admire—and I wish to inspire positive change, as they do.”

I have always believed that music can help heal people. My mom was a music therapist for most of her life, and she has told me many stories of how music transforms the lives of her clients, including students living with disabilities. Though it might take months to reach certain goals with her practice, the families of these students would express they were overjoyed with their progress over time.

My mom often speaks of an instance when she played a Bach Cello Suite for an elderly man who had not spoken a word in years. He unexpectedly got up and told her to stop; he wanted to hear some disco instead! She brought in a CD player and started to play disco, as requested, and he started dancing—it turns out he was a Vaudeville dancer back in the day! After hearing how music could make a person who hadn’t spoken or moved much in years get up and dance, I started to think about how my music could move people.

Authenticity and honesty are essential to communicating the intentions behind the music—and how I want the audience to feel during a performance. 

The moment my career goals crystallized was Musica nelle Marche’s summer program in Urbino, Italy, where I studied La Bohème’s Mimi and performed her aria “Donde lieta usci.” I’m always amazed that people can relate to this opera from over a hundred years ago, in another language, but it’s because music has the power to share stories and messages in a way that makes them feel immediate and relevant.

By the third performance, I connected to Mimi in a way I never had before—it felt very natural, as if I were just showing another part of myself. Afterward, the audience and my teachers told me how much the experience affected them emotionally and how genuine my embodiment of the character was. Before that night, I had never felt my impact on an audience in this way—it makes the work really fulfilling!

The artist’s role in society is THE reason I was drawn to Longy.

Art has given me the freedom I need to express myself and what I believe in. It isn’t just a product of creative thought and ideas but is also a world-changing tool. Though art can seemingly stand apart from the world, it can also address worldly issues and give voice to the cries of the people living in it.

Leading up to Longy, my four years at the Boston Arts Academy (BAA) were not only focused on my development as a musician but also as an artist-scholar-citizen—aiming to be successful in a professional music career while being engaged as a member of a democratic society.

My sophomore and junior year I held open dialogues at the Haley House Bakery and Cafe in Dudley Square (now renamed Nubian Square) on mass incarceration. I used these nights to create a platform for victims—and family members—impacted by institutional racism, enabling them to express their feelings and share testimonies on how they have overcome a system that has disenfranchised them.

After submitting a proposal to the school, I received a grant to further expand this platform and incorporate more art into the healing process, specifically for Black and Latino men of color. The new event included original music and spoken word pieces from Boston-based artists who had been affected by these issues.

January of my senior year, I wrote a song for Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley, based on her first speech in Congress. In the song, I addressed relevant social issues, such as the impact of crucial decisions made by the current administration I also spoke about those in positions of power, who stand in opposition and dedicate their lives to making positive change in our communities, just like Ayanna Pressley.

I hoped this song would be heard and bring unity to our community. “We’re On Our Way Up” realized that dream—as it was formally recognized by many listeners including the Congresswoman herself.

Elise Hill is a saxophonist, clarinetist, bass clarinetist, contrabass clarinetist, and Longy student from Norco, California. With an interest in music at an early age, Elise joined the school band in eighth grade, originally on clarinet. Music helped her find her identity as an adolescent, recognizing its ability to create a safe space to feel, emote, and exist in one’s truth.  

I’ve been teaching children clarinet since high school while working two jobs to fund myfull-time undergraduate education. After moving homes several times in my younger years, I see music as a stabilizing presence in her life at that time. It wasn’t until I picked up the clarinet for the first time that I found something that I truly loved, and it changed the trajectory of my life. I’m inspired by the freedom of making music unapologetically and its ability to express a person’s true identity. 

I came to Longy to learn more about how to use my talents to help create a voice for others as I develop and refine my own. Music helped my find my identity as an adolescent, as a safe space to feel, emote, and exist in my own truth. I was inspired to become a musician by a Lady Gaga concert, during which I felt seen for the first time. This wouldn’t have been possible without the performing artist’s ability to create a space of safety and belonging for her audience to celebrate as individuals and as one. 

At Longy, I can connect my musical ambitions, values, and social change goals directly with my education. I believe in individuality and expression through art and music. My message to future students, musicians, and professionals: do not lose sight of what makes you unique because sometimes when you least expect it, it can make all the difference.