As the world fast approaches its end, or not, it gives rise to our personal, chosen path. Do we wait, in angst, to kiss our asses goodbye or renew the vow of solstice, looking toward spring for longer days and nature’s song.
Similarly, my favorite institution, Cuesta, has suffered its own Armageddon, of sorts. Imagine a small city losing one third its population and infrastructure, not by natural disaster, but by societal choices and human error. Knowing instructors personally in the music department has made the reduction in staff more painful. We are not only letting fine instructors go, but the musical talent they avail to this county as well.
Without music, there is no common denominator to draw humanity together. Multiply this loss by hundreds. Never would I have suspected that such a fine institution could fold like a cheap umbrella when I graduated from Cuesta in 1976. I left for New York a better person, under the tutelage of Warren Balfour and Nella Girollo. In returning, I have continued to grow through its excellent instruction. We stood back and watched it happen, but how can we help its future?
I would encourage the adult population to consider investing in their local college, while affording themselves the opportunities of growth that Cuesta has to offer in its post-apocalyptic state.
Take a class; it’s good for you.