As a student, the striking moments in my music classes occurred when my idols, Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven, were featured in class. As a Classical pianist this really captivated me. I was “all ears” and felt special, like the music I was playing suddenly had true relevance, and therefore, I had relevance. But these were my idols, not everyone’s. How can we make all students feel that their idols are equally relevant?
 
             Making historically marginalized students feel the same connectivity and excitement that I felt in my undergraduate music theory classes is one of my primary goals, and I do so by featuring student musical icons in class. I assign students to send me a YouTube link to a piece or song which changed their lives or inspired them to become musicians. Over the course of the semester, I incorporate these works into the class audio played as students walk in, or we analyze and admire the pieces together. For example, in my classes and applied composition lessons at SJSU, we’ve discussed the music of Dr. Dre, Beyoncé, and Seal; Classical composers Osvaldo Golijov, Julius Eastman, Lili Boulanger; and Jazz artists like Thelonious Monk and Keith Jarrett, alongside, parallel, and equal to the works of composers from the Canon. In this way I’m able to draw connections between the class content and the student demographic. But it goes far beyond simply being inclusive for the sake of inclusivity. These musical artists are spectacular and simply worth hearing.
 
            To demonstrate universality in my theory and musicianship classes, in for example, the ubiquitous Augmented Sixth Chord, we study YouTube scrolling scores of works from the Six B’s: Bach, Bologne, Beethoven, Brahms, The Beatles, and the Notorious B.I.G. Neapolitans can be found, of course, in Mozart and Schubert, but also in Snoop Dogg’s Gin and Juice. Through delving into these diverse composers, regions, styles, instrumentations, and characters, it is my objective to make all students feel like their culture is included and respected, their voices are heard, their ideas are welcome, and the music that they identify with is crucial for study.
 
            At Berkeley, I will be committed to ensuring that historically marginalized composers are included in the concert hall. Alongside the works of my own, I would program piano works and premieres by marginalized composers to demonstrate how valuable unrepresented composers are. I would pursue composition projects inspired by poetry, visual art, and prose from Asian, African American, LGBTQ+, and female artists (my current work, The Book of Muses: Nine Preludes & Fugues in the Modes inspired by the Nine Muses from Greek Mythology is one example of a female-inspired, though mythological, conception). I would invite guest artists from marginalized groups to speak in our classes. By the same token, it is valuable to be a university ambassador as a guest in area high schools, community colleges, conferences, etc., where marginalized students may attend so that I can inspire and recruit the next generation of diverse musicians, theorists, and composers.
           
            We are proud Jews in my family. My wife is from Tel Aviv, Israel; I am from Philadelphia. We have been traumatized by the October 7th attack on Israel and we have wished only for peace, or shalom, since the conflict has begun. Every morning that I drop off my son, Boaz, at the Jewish Community Center Preschool, I worry that it might be the last time I see him. I understand what it means to fear violence because of one’s race. Because of this, I am compassionate toward individuals or groups who fall victim to acts and/or rhetoric of hatred. To end on a brighter note, however, I celebrate the rich cultural diversity of my family, friends, and colleagues which defines my daily life.