This is not the article I originally set out to share with the world. Life, like it so frequently does, altered my plans. Wednesday evening, we as a Denison community were informed of the death of a fellow student. While I cannot claim to have known him, I certainly can feel the affects of him being gone. It seemed like a muffler had been stretched over campus; everything was muted– laughter, crying, yelling. Thursday passed in paradoxical fashion, simultaneously excruciatingly slow and terrifyingly fast. In this fragile state Dee Dee Bridgewater’s jazz concert seemed like an explosion of sound. This Grammy and Tony-winning artist had been on campus for a scheduled performance, deciding last minute to rework her entire set list to try and give a little comfort to the Denison community. And so many people came, packing Swasey Chapel, looking for a place to remember but also to forget. They came because they believe in the power of music.
There are countless studies done that can speak to the science behind the power of music. They that show how effective musical therapy can be and how impactful it is, how exactly the notes and melodies effect your body and brain. But you don’t need the science to tell you what you already can feel. Music moves people. It moves me. There are certain songs that I cannot hear without crying, cannot hear without getting up and dancing. Certain songs transport me back into my memories, reminding me of treasured moments both happy and sad. I turn to music for everything and these last few days were no exception. I turned to music to help me find the light in the world again. I let myself cry listening to Dee Dee’s rendition of “Besame Mucho.” I let myself laugh again listening to “Hasa Diga Eebowai” from The Book of Mormon. I let myself be mad as Dear Evan Hansen’s “Requiem” played. I turned to music to help me through. Everyone has been effected differently and everyone grieves differently. I hope that, whatever form it takes, you find your music to get you through.