Digno, mas não com direitos
To my Suzuki families, in memory of Geri Arnold
I don’t know about you, but for me this year has acted as
a purifying fire determining what lasts. Music discipleship
has been one of those endeavors.
The creative process helps me collect illuminated
thoughts about myself. On the one hand, studying the violin
teaches me that I have dignity. To build on a skill over many
years’ time, coaxing life from an inanimate sounding box
and a stick of wood with horsehair attached—only a creature
with utmost dignity could do this. To comprehend that those
black dots on the page are not just black dots but living notes
put there by a living soul, speaking to mine and which I
bring to life through internalizing, processing and translat-
ing firing brain synapses to movement in my fingers in an
instant—only the most dignified of beings could do that. I
am fearfully and wonderfully made. At the same time, violin
study teaches me that I am not above anyone else. I am digni-
fied but not entitled. No matter how competent I believe I
am, how lofty I can feel when mastering a technique, a new
challenge shakes me down to size. The violin, like the ocean
in Chekhov’s short story Gusev, “has no sense and no pity.”
While your children may recognize in an impersonal way
their dignity, it can be hard for them to feel and experience it
when they see that they are less popular than someone else
in their circle or perceive flaws in an aspect of their physical
appearance. Bringing a masterpiece to life on an unforgiving
instrument over a long period of time is such a feat for the
mind and body that they cannot help but to feel dignified.
If young adults begin developing inflated vanity, it can be
hard for them to feel and experience they are not entitled
when they see that they learn easier than everyone else in
their class or rank as one of the more popular kids in school.
Bringing a masterpiece to life on an unforgiving instrument
and bridging time and space between two living souls puts
such a demand on the human body and mind that they
cannot help but to perceive themselves as small.
There will be times when young musicians’ self-percep-
tion becomes clouded in a fog of either entitlement or
insignificance. Their instrument can be the very tool that
helps them, too, collect those illuminated thoughts and see
themselves in their true light.
Casey Mink enjoys balancing his love for both violin
playing and teaching. Most weekends he can be
found on a beach, mountain, or in a concert hall play-
ing in a wedding or symphony and during the week
at home working with his 38 Suzuki violin and viola
students. He taught violin and viola to students of all
ages with the Renaissance Music Academy of Virginia and Virginia Tech’s
Fine Arts Initiative before venturing to begin his own Suzuki violin program
in Rock Hill, SC. Casey holds a master’s of music in performance from
Bowling Green State University and performs with the Roanoke Symphony,
South Carolina Philharmonic and Rock Hill Symphony. Besides playing in
orchestras and working with children, Casey loves fly-fishing and reading