I went into my interview with Flor Bromley expecting to discuss family music, festival performances, and her creative process. I left with encouragement to pursue my dreams with considerably more audacity. “You have to be, pretend that you belong, be delusional,” she told me. As a college student interviewing artists at Austin City Limits, I felt personally addressed. My inbox and I have certainly been operating on ambition. Bromley’s advice came from experience. During our conversation after her set, she discussed finding her place in children’s music, creating meaningful stories for young listeners, and imagining a future beyond the stage. Her connection with children began early. As a teenager, she was already teaching younger kids and working on performances with them. Although she pursued musical theater, making music for families eventually became a path she embraced. “I feel like my soul is really young,” she said. “I feel 15 several times a day.” That playful spirit carries into her shows. Recalling her ACL performance, Bromley described an audience interaction that brought children into a moving train. Some who had been standing farther back joined in, then stayed for the rest of the set. “It was really sweet,” she said. For a festival audience, she wanted more participation and adjusted her usual show to fit a half-hour set. Keeping children engaged can involve movement, a captivating story, or something to do with their hands. The performance gives them ways to become part of the experience. Children also bring an honesty that occasionally catches adults off guard. Bromley recalled a young audience member asking whether she was pregnant. Her response: “No, I just had a big burrito.” A reminder that performing for children requires musical talent, flexibility, and the ability to survive an unsolicited question about your lunch. Behind that humor, Bromley thinks carefully about what her music leaves with listeners. Her daughter helped inspire Herstory, a project introducing children to women from different continents. The idea developed after her daughter became interested in playing influencer. Bromley wanted to expand the possibilities of who children could look up to, beyond the familiar figures repeatedly featured during Women’s History Month. “We need to find some new role models for girls and for boys to get inspired,” she explained. She hopes the songs spark curiosity about those women and what they accomplished, helping children imagine possibilities for themselves. Her Grammy nomination was another moment when something once distant became tangible. Connecting with the children’s music community helped her see a path toward a dream she hadn’t initially believed was within reach. Still, her advice wasn’t to wait around for recognition. “You have to hustle,” she said. She described unanswered outreach and the frustration of wondering whether a festival booking would ever happen. Eventually, opportunities arrived through her agent. The experience shaped how she views rejection. “Even if it’s a no, right there, it’s a no, for that moment. Try again.” For someone balancing school with creative ambitions, that was the part I wanted to underline. Bromley’s next dreams include books and television, with an interest in helping children explore cultures around the world. She wants that curiosity to build empathy and appreciation for diversity. “I want kids to be curious about the world,” she said. Our conversation made her version of being “delusional” feel practical: imagine something bigger, put work behind it, and stay open to learning. I arrived with questions about her career. Somehow, Flor also gave me homework for mine. Fortunately, this assignment involves dreaming bigger—and I’m considerably more interested in that than another discussion board.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at St. John's chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.