artistic expression

The University of Navarra (Madrid, Spain), with co-organizer Boston College, is gathering artists, scholars, psychotherapists, and practitioners from around the world for the 2027 Art & Character Conference (June 3–5, 2027).

What can we learn from people who live in one of the most constrained urban environments in the world—and still find ways to make life possible?

Singing (really, any artistic act) is an act of vulnerability. Your voice is you—your breath, your body, your emotions, your story. When you sing, you offer all of that up; even after a lifetime of performing, I still feel that fear when I step on stage.

If performing can be scary for us educators, how much scarier must it be for teen students still discovering their identity—for whom “fitting in” can feel like the most important thing?

One of the most memorable experiences from my time in Vanimo was helping the students prepare music for a truly special occasion: the visit, last August, of Pope Francis. With only three weeks to prepare, the students were able to put together both a fully recorded concert for the Holy Father and a few live pieces for his visit to the IVE Fathers in Baro.

At events like these, it’s easy to think about the word “community” as the people in the room. But El Sistema USA’s nifty trick was to upend that idea. Rather than celebrate our professional community—the connections we form with colleagues—the ESUSA leadership team explored the ties that bind us to larger, more diverse communities—of families, of activists, of scientists, of lawmakers, and of the folks that lawmakers tend to ignore.

Few would disagree that imagining and constructing something good for humanity, in a place where vast harm has been done, is a creative act. Therefore, the completion of The Ensemble House in Srebrenica, Bosnia and Herzegovina can be seen as one of the world’s great creative triumphs in recent years.

When I learned that the organization Equity Arc was presenting a wind symphony concert and learning intensive that brought together under-represented youth musicians and the USMB, I was ecstatic. This was a chance to stand beside my idols, the individuals I’d looked up to since first discovering them. I prepared like never before. And, eventually, the hard work paid off: I was selected. It felt surreal; finally, a chance to perform with my heroes, my mentors, my friends.

The excitement grew for weeks…until February 24, when I received a dreadful email that stated: “In accordance with recent Executive Orders impacting DEI-related programming for federal agencies, the Marine Band has been instructed to cancel our collaboration.”

It’s 3:30 on a Wednesday afternoon at the Neutral Zone, a creative arts and leadership center for teenagers in downtown Ann Arbor, Michigan. Twenty-four young people and six staff gather in a circle of chairs in the B-Side Venue (a multi-purpose program space that also serves as a 400-person concert venue). As a disco ball glimmers overhead, Ash, a teen participant and high school sophomore, volunteers with an opening question: “What did you like to do at recess when you were a kid in school?”

The Lewis Prize for Music (TLPM) has supported our field over the past five years by granting significant awards to programs across the U.S. In addition, TLPM sometimes brings students from the programs they support into the organization’s leadership development projects.

TLPM recently brought two of these young leaders into conversation about the impact these professional experiences have had on their learning and their lives.