Nurture

Cait Nishimura

When I reached out to Cait to commission this work, she and I spent a long time shaping and molding the framework that became the inspiration for this piece. Cait and I share similar beliefs in many aspects of life, and our fundamental trust in the goodness of human beings is what led to Cait ultimately using Mr. Rogers as the primary inspiration for Nurture. Cait and I both have been shaped and influenced by the family, friends, mentors, and even the occasional caring stranger that have positively impacted our lives.

Fred Rogers was a man of habit and ritual. He would go to sleep at 9:00 p.m. every evening, and wake up at 5:00 a.m. every morning. Every morning, he would go for a swim, and after every swim he would stand on the scale, look down at his weight, and he’d smile. Because Mr. Rogers would always see the exact same weight - 143 pounds - and that, for Fred, was a sign. 143 were the same number of letters in the words “I love you” and Fred took great care to see that same number every morning that he woke up.

Mr. Rogers was an extremely genuine individual. He made sure to live his life according to the teachings that he programmed for his show, Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood - that every individual, no matter how small or insignificant to the rest of the world - felt loved, that they mattered, and that they were special just the way they are. He received more fan mail than any single person could read daily, however he had assistants to help him sort through the messages, and he always made sure to take care to address the concerns brought to his attention. When a young, blind fan wrote in, concerned that the fish in his fish tank weren’t being fed, Fred made sure to not only feed the fish every episode, but to announce to the audience that he was doing so, in order to make sure everyone knew that even the smallest lives in his neighborhood were being cared for.

I have spent much of my life trying to live up to the ideals of Mr. Rogers. This is a task that I fail often, and more than likely at least once every day. My greatest fear is that I will reach the end of my life, and I won’t have made a positive impact on the world that I have inhabited for so long. And it is largely because of this fear that is the reason I went into teaching - I knew that music was the best vehicle for me to positively impact as many lives as possible. It is because of those with whom I have studied and learned from that I feel so strongly in my beliefs that music has such an immeasurable ability to help others.

There are many people that I consider key characters in the world where I am the protagonist. Family members and friends have continually supported me and helped me through the adversity that I can now thankfully see firmly in my past. One of the most consistent and steadfast individuals in this story has been my percussion teacher in both my bachelor’s and master’s degrees, John Dorsey. Professor Dorsey has worked with me for almost 15 years now. Throughout that time together, he has demonstrated patience with my struggles, my flair for the irresponsible, and the anxiety that has often played a prominent role in my lessons and time spent with him. Oftenxttimes, Professor Dorsey is challenged with the unenviable task of reeling in my imagination, and helping me bridge the gap between my dreams and the realities of my life.

When I had my traumatic brain injury in 2009, Professor Dorsey was one of the first to come and visit me in the hospital. In a sea of dark memories from the year following my injury, one of the highlights was when I was sobbing in the hallways of the music building during a drumline sectional, and he caringly offered to buy me a pop. I politely declined, but later accepted his offer to get a drink of water. I don’t have any idea if he remembers this moment, and many would consider it an extremely insignificant moment, but it is a moment that solidified my belief that teachers are more than the educators of the subjects for which they are hired. When people ask me about EMU, and what makes it stand out, I often reference the willingness of its teachers to help their students beyond what is expected of them, and the many ways that Professor Dorsey has helped me throughout my life is the first reason that has cemented that belief in me.

Nurture is a piece about helping others, but it is also a tribute to those that have helped us. And it is with this idea in mind that I would like to dedicate my graduate recital performance to Professor Dorsey, for the patience, knowledge, and care that he has shown me for so long.