Taking Note of the Hillsdale College Community
Written by Victoria Kelly
One of the perks of being home for the summer after my freshman year was that I didn’t have to make what freshman-me had branded the piano-playing-tradeoff. It had been quite the dilemma: if I had wanted to play piano, I either had to make the walk with my music books over to a practice room in the Howard Music Hall, or I had to play in the Olds lobby and accept that anyone who walked by could hear every mistake. Neither was terrible; yet my introverted side could appreciate going home to the piano tucked in the corner of my dining room.
Excited to play for my own enjoyment, I went to grab The Greatest Showman from my stack of music books. I found the dark blue and black cover and pulled it out. That was when I discovered my mistake.
I had never seen this music book before.
My mouth dropped open in shock as I realized what I must have done. Many girls who practice in Olds have the habit of leaving their music books on the piano. The last time I played, I must have picked up someone else’s music book along with my own.
I hurriedly opened the obsolete dorm group chat and sent a photo of the book, asking whose it was, and apologizing for the mix-up. As I waited, my head swirled with thoughts.
Had she missed it? I hoped I could apologize enough. Had she thought someone had stolen it? Thanks to the Honor Code, that had never been a problem any of us had experienced.
I hoped she would forgive me.
Within minutes, I had a reply. Thankfully, the book belonged to my friend Monica. She found the situation amusing and said she hadn’t noticed it was missing. She told me that since she had most of the book memorized, I could keep it until we returned to Hillsdale in the fall. She encouraged me to make good use of it and play as much as I wanted.
My guilt began to subside, and I took a closer look at the book. It was a collection of movie theme songs. As I flipped through the titles, I recognized several, among them “Linus and Lucy” from Peanuts and the Pirates of the Caribbean theme. Both were songs I had wanted to learn. Even though the arrangements were a bit above my skill level, I decided to take Monica’s encouragement and try to learn to play them. And thanks to this mix-up, I also learned about something else—the characteristics that make the Hillsdale College community special.
As I worked with the music, I realized that other people also have to put in the grueling work to do anything well, even if I can’t see their struggles. Throughout my freshman year of college, I struggled with what’s known as “imposter syndrome,” or seeing everyone else be really good at some particular skill or interest and feeling as if I did not belong. The worst part of such a feeling is seeing only finished products or polished skills and thinking they come to people naturally. While that may be true for some people, it is not for most. When I started reading the music in Monica’s book, I noticed measures where she had penciled in the counts, notes off the staff that she had labeled, and other odd reminders to herself about dynamics or the mood of the piece. I recognized that most of those marks existed because Monica—a much better pianist than I am—either made mistakes and did not want to repeat them or because she had to return to the basics to figure out difficult sections.
With this glimpse into Monica’s method of learning music, I also realized that there are far more people to learn from at Hillsdale than just the professors. No longer am I a homeschooler studying books alone; I now study alongside students with hundreds of different backgrounds, experiences, and skills. There is easily something I could learn from each of them. I did not just see that Monica broke down the music to make it easier to play; I learned how to do the same just from seeing her work. I pencil out counts now, too, and have realized that some music is not as hard as it looks. This summer, I became a better musician and rediscovered my love for piano by learning from and emulating Monica’s effort.
And these students I can learn from value kindness and are eager to share their experience. Since our return to campus, Monica has emphasized to me that not only was she not bothered by the incident; she was happy it happened. “Music is awesome!” she has told me, and now I couldn’t agree more. Similarly, so many other Hillsdale friends have proven themselves eager to share textbooks, talk about experiences, and tackle big questions together.
Time is short. Knowing that I would only have access to this sheet music until mid-August, I could have set the book aside in favor of playing something easy that I already knew. Rather, I started right away and could play both “Linus and Lucy” and the Pirates theme recognizably within a couple weeks. Just like my time to work with that music book, our time as students at Hillsdale is limited. Most of us only get four years here. I only hope that having been reminded of this lesson, I can continue to make good use of my time.
But even though time is limited, I know that this community is something I will always have, even when I’m not at Hillsdale. I learned so much from my mistake this summer. And I’m glad that it happened within the community that grows around each Hillsdale student, even though we were all physically separated over the summer months. I did not arrive at Hillsdale confident that I would meet some of my greatest friends and most adamant challengers on my favorite subjects. Nor did I put nearly as much of my concern into finding such a community as I did doing well in classes. But that community found me anyway, and I know these friends (and mentors and professors) will continue to support me even after graduation, perhaps in ways I never expected.
Victoria Kelly, ’24, is a proud country girl from upstate New York. On the rare occasion she is not studying or hanging out with all her favorite Hillsdale people, you can find her debating politics, practicing Tae Kwon Do, or swing dancing, preferably outside under the stars.
Published in November 2021