As a young child, some of my earliest musical memories are of me creating my own songs or singing myself to sleep while trying to remember all of the words to the Twelve Days of Christmas. It was the 1980s, and I lived in Brooklyn, NY in government housing with my older brother and mother who had migrated from the Dominican Republic a few years prior.

At the time, most of my music education came from the merengue and bachata that my family blasted on the weekends, or the latest Madonna hits entering my window from the boomboxes outside. For me, singing was a gateway to my own world of imagination, where I could escape some of our difficulties, or express the complicated feelings I had day to day.  

Years later, we moved to Florida where my mother remarried, and I witnessed physical and verbal abuse for the first time in my life. I was in a constant state of anxiety, trying desperately not to anger anyone. I joined a choral program at my high school which quickly became a way to cope with what was going on at home and allowed me to express myself in a safe and welcoming environment.

I had the great fortune of being mentored by some pretty amazing humans (shout out to my high school choral director Harold Bradley, voice teacher Sonia Santiago, Coach Wood, and many others), and through them, my innate gifts were nurtured, and my musical skills were sharpened, leading me to receive a full scholarship to study voice performance and music education at Florida State University.  

Being a part of a choral program provided me with a place that felt safer and more stable than my actual home. It was a place where I could show up as myself and feel confident in knowing that I was offering something of value to those around me through not just my singing voice, but my perspective, my story, my life experience. And my chorus peers offered the same. Becoming friends with them showed me that I could make better choices for myself and that there was a different way to live life.  

This is what stands out for me when I look back - the importance of being in a community with people who were different from me. It was all of us achieving together something greater than ourselves. It was all of us learning from each other and approaching our relationships with more awareness, empathy, compassion, and understanding.

I went on to earn music degrees from FSU and the University of Miami with a very clear personal mission - to give back what was given to me and empower young people through choral music.

In 2011, I started The Children’s Voice Chorus (CVC) in Miami. Our nonprofit uses high-quality music education to positively impact the lives of young singers of all cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds.

What started with 21 singers in 2011 has gone on to serve 400 students, birth through 18 in three core programs: year-round choral performance, early music education, and summer camp. Our vision is to unite diverse students from across Miami-Dade County through the universal language of music, teaching them to sing beautifully together and to express and appreciate the difference and value in our individual voices. It’s been so amazing to watch our students form lasting bonds with each other through music. No matter what they are arriving to rehearsal with on any given day, they are welcomed into a space where we invite them to be fully and bravely themselves - just as I was when I most needed it.

In addition to the community aspects, our students have performed all over Miami-Dade and in choral festivals in New York City, New Orleans, and in Hawaii. In February of 2020, we sang at Super Bowl LIV with Yolanda Adams. They had an opportunity to make music with top-tier celebrities and record in Miami’s famous Criteria Studios. The energy of the stadium was palpable. All of the students were over the moon with excitement. Here we were, wide-eyed, performing in front of thousands of fans and an estimated 96.4 million tv viewers, and I could not help but think about the first students we had in 2011 who were now seniors, who had grown into wonderful musicians, standing on the 100-yard line alongside Demi Lovato. I felt immensely grateful for the opportunity that CVC afforded every singer that day. All of their stories were vastly different, but there we were, together, on a national stage.

When I first started singing as a child, or in my high school chorus, I didn’t know that I’d be where I am today. I didn’t know where CVC would be when we first started. But I knew how much being in a chorus changed my life for the better and, 10 years in, I see the impact that it has had on our students. I see myself in their stories. I see the child who has innate gifts and needs a space to nurture them. I see the child who was lonely and didn’t fit in until they joined our community. I see the child who has struggles at home or needs stability. I see the child who struggles with their mental health. I see the child who was told that they would not succeed and persevered anyway. I see the child who is in utter bliss while they sing in harmony with others.

I see them because I was them, and I know that in nurturing them over the last 10 years, we’ve not only instilled musical skills that set them up for success in future endeavors, but also life skills that prepare them to be upstanding citizens in diverse communities.

Without my childhood experience with singing, I wouldn’t have nearly the understanding of the ways singing can make children feel seen and heard when they need it most. But I am grateful that my difficult experiences led me to that understanding, and hope to continue paying it forward as we navigate our changing world.