Teaching, for me, grew out of a love of learning — one that was sharpened and challenged by the academic study of history. After receiving a Bachelor's from Wellesley College and a Master's from Georgetown University, I resolutely headed towards law school. But Providence stopped me.
Looking back, there was always a throughline — sharing the joy of learning with individuals at the heart of it.
My past has taken me across continents and over a decade of teaching — elementary classrooms in Mexico and Beijing, studying in Taiwan and Peru, research in the Arctic, and mentoring first-generation college students in the DMV area.
As of late, I have been co-experiencing something quietly extraordinary about every stage of learning. The pleasure of being there when your toddler student suddenly connects a sound to a word. The warmth felt conversing with the senior who picks up something new with a sense of wonder. I am convinced that learning is about loving — and that it flourishes in relationship.
At the end of the day, the subject is just the doorway. You are who I'm here for.
My violin story began in elementary school when a visiting teacher let me attempt “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” Something sparked. But by the time fifth grade came around, I wanted to quit — my mom said no, then never mentioned it again. That boundary gave me the freedom to make the instrument my own.
Over the years, I have discovered that the violin can articulate what words sometimes cannot — grief, joy, delight, and more. Although I have performed at Segerstrom, Walt Disney Concert Hall, Irish churches, and the House of Blues with a Beatles tribute group, one of my most precious memories is sharing my grandfather's favorite hymn, “Blessed Assurance,” at his funeral.
In college, lifts and practices as a varsity Track & Field athlete gradually took over, and the violin quietly faded into the background. During the COVID pandemic, however, it resurfaced — and reminded me exactly why I had never been able to let it go.
I teach the approaches I have gathered across more than two decades of playing and learning this instrument. Because I believe music is caught before it's taught. My job isn't just to correct bow hold — it's to make your child fall in love with the sound they're capable of making.