“No man is more unhappy than he who never faces adversity. For he is not permitted to prove himself.” -Seneca
There is so much more to being a mature man than being strong and wealthy. And I’m not just saying that because I’m relatively weak and poor; the truth is, I have been able to objectively look at my life through the lens of time and see where I was wrong. I spent a lot of time in my youth chasing dreams that were a wisp of smoke, and trying to get away with things I knew were wrong. I was full of myself, full of energy, but had nowhere to apply it. I had no Great War to serve in, had no Mission to accomplish. Nowhere to prove myself that I thought mattered.
Somewhere around 1993, when I was 19 and in the throes of self-discovery, I was approached by a man in his 20’s whom I respected a great deal. He was a musician, someone who always seemed to have his act together (which is rare for musicians). He asked me if I would be interested in starting a fraternity chapter for men of music. Like-minded men, who were young, but wanted to be involved in making the world a better place through music.
Of course, I couldn’t wait to accept! I had given up the possibility of becoming a financially secure Mechanical Engineer to follow my dream of becoming a professional musician. Of course I wanted to change the world with music. I was all about music. I spent hours every day practicing, performing, teaching, learning. It was my life.
And so after struggles and a long learning process, in 1994, a group of us managed to establish the Omicron Beta chapter of Phi Mu Alpha Sinfonia, a National Fraternity for Men of Music.
But we were young, and sadly lacking in mentors. Not to downplay our mentors, they did the best they could. But they were few and far between, and had quite a difficult job with no established presence or precedent there. Most of the time, it was one guy trying to teach twelve of us. We still had a lot to learn.
But what struck me about the whole process was the ideals of what it meant to be a man. Things that aren’t really taught today. Professionalism, responsibility, nobility, and so on. It was a call to step up and be something more than just a consequence of your environment. A call to arms, through music. It wasn’t about being “macho” or “tough” or anything like that. It was an appeal to apply ourselves for the greater good, using the tool we were most familiar with: music.
Looking back, I now see that I didn’t even begin to realize the importance of the vows I made that day. They were noble. And like all worthy goals, it wouldn’t be easy to attain them. But they forced us to become better musicians. Better members of society. Better men.
I can’t say being a Sinfonian singlehandedly transformed me into the man I am today. What it did do was give me a solid set of virtues to live by, before I went on to discover God’s plan for my life. Over time, I learned more about what those virtues meant, and achieved great leaps and bounds towards them. Sinfonia was the basis for what I thought a mature man ought to be. I recognized those qualities as ones that would help make me who I wanted to be.
The years since have been long, demanding, and rewarding. I have seen the good that music can do in people’s lives, and I have done my best to use it for that purpose. And yet, on nights like tonight, I feel as though I have barely scratched the surface. There is so much more yet to come. It truly is a lifetime journey.
Finally, I would like to encourage any and all men who are reading this to consider what is shaping and influencing your life direction. Do you have a set of values? Do they exemplify the kind of person you want to be? Have you started down the path towards following them? The basis of Sinfonia was laid down more than one hundred years ago, and it has stood the test of time.
Once a Sinfonian, Always a Sinfonian. Long Live Sinfonia.