My 17-year-old self

By Rebecca Stoltzfus, president

Earlier this summer, I had the extraordinary opportunity to hear a piano recital by professor emeritus, Marvin Blickenstaff. Dr. Blickenstaff is a world-renowned pianist and master piano teacher, whose long and productive career was celebrated with his 90th birthday recital in Carnegie Hall on May 26 of this year. 

In June, Marvin returned to play a solo recital in Rieth Recital Hall in Goshen College’s Music Center. His mastery of the music was astonishing, including his stories of each piece and why he included it in this program. At the end of the recital, he explained that this recital at his beloved Goshen College was his final one. He wanted to play his last recital for us. 

My 17-year-old self in 1979

Marvin was my piano professor at Goshen when I began as a first-year student in the fall of 1979, thinking that I might want to be a music major. Seeing him, and listening to his teaching and performance, transported me back to my 17-year-old self – a strange and vivid experience that was both disorienting and orienting.

I recalled how Marvin revealed to me what mastery of the piano sounded like and felt like. I remembered my realization of the enormous gap that stood between myself as a pianist and who I might become. I relived my insecurity, my longing, my frustration, and the sense of possibility that came with all of that. I thought he might remember me with disappointment. Instead, when the concert concluded, he expressed pride in who I had become – a life-long music-lover but not a professional musician. 

A healing encounter

That evening healed a part of my self – the 17-year-old in me who felt overwhelmed at the discipline and beauty of the music I discovered at Goshen College, and who still felt inadequate that I did not persevere in music and achieve Marvin’s standards. I listened to the recital from that 17-year-old place in me, and allowed Marvin’s music to bless my younger self. 

Later in June, at our annual cabinet retreat, I gave each of our leadership team the assignment to introduce our 17-year-old self to one another. We met one another in new ways, seeing that each of us came from passions that were true and not yet honed, from mistakes, confusion and a lot of bravery. Let’s face it: being 17 years old is hard!

Think about our new students today

Last week, we welcomed our new students to Goshen College, most of whom are 17 or 18 years old. Like we were at their age, they arrive with passion and rough edges, flaws and talents. And they are already showing us their bravery – in the dining hall (a notoriously scary place your first semester), on their dorm floors, classrooms, soccer fields and volleyball court. Each one is unique and unrepeatable, beloved, and holds potential yet to be revealed. I’m so grateful for each of them and eager to get to know them better.

Who were you at 17?

Maybe for you, as for me, there is something in your 17-year-old self still waiting to be seen, appreciated and healed. It’s never too late.