I started teaching piano in high school to pay for my own lessons. I kept teaching through college, earning my Bachelor's in Piano Performance—but shortly after, I quit. I never wanted to teach piano again.
It wasn’t until I turned 40, after experiencing life’s joys and sorrows, that I felt called back to music and back to teaching.
You see, I’m a practical, programmatic person, and for a long time, I saw music as a luxury. I wanted to contribute to the world in a way that felt more relevant. That desire to help led me all the way to the slums of Beirut, where I worked with an after-school tutoring program and helped collect donations for an organization serving the poorest of the poor in Lebanon. But, as had happened many times before, I was asked to use my musical skills. Before I knew it, I was teaching music again—forming a children’s choir with students I could barely communicate with.
And then it happened.
As I taught them quarter notes, eighth notes, and Edelweiss from The Sound of Music, I saw something shift. Music empowered these children to dream—to think beyond what is and imagine what could be. It lifted them beyond the necessities of life and gave them a glimpse of beauty and balance.
At that moment, I realized what I had missed all my life: music wasn’t just a skill I had. It was the most powerful thing I had to share. It has the power to restore dignity, to move and inspire, to heal hearts—even the heart of a nation.