Lessons from FunKey
As I prepare to conclude my time as Director of the FunKey Piano Project, I have been reflecting on how much the program has shaped me as an educator and leader.
When I first assumed leadership of FunKey, I faced a question that many people eventually encounter: what do you do when you inherit something that already exists?
The program already had its own history, traditions, and community. At first, I wasn't sure whether my role was to preserve what was there or to reimagine it according to my own ideas. Over time, I learned that leadership is rarely about choosing one or the other. Instead, it is about understanding what a program needs at a particular moment and helping it continue to grow.
Many of the decisions we made over the years were practical ones. We worked to strengthen the program's financial foundation, expand educational opportunities, and create a more engaging experience for students and families. We introduced theory classes, performance classes, recital recordings, and new opportunities for teacher training through the Piano Pedagogy Lab.
Yet when I look back, those initiatives are not what I remember most.
What I remember are the students who returned semester after semester. The families who became part of the community. The teachers who supported one another. The excitement before recitals, the nervousness before performances, and the pride that followed.
Over time, I came to realize that the most important work was not building a piano program. It was building a community.
I was fortunate to work alongside many wonderful colleagues, including my teaching assistants Hayoung Lee and Sarah Bryan, whose dedication and leadership contributed greatly to the program's growth. Their work reminded me that education is never the achievement of one person. It is always a shared effort.
This past semester, Sarah organized and led an entire recital on her own. Watching that process unfold was one of the most rewarding experiences of my time with FunKey. Not because the event was successful—though it certainly was—but because it represented something larger: the continuation of a tradition of mentorship and leadership.
As I step away from FunKey, I do so with a deep sense of gratitude. I am proud of what the program has become, but even more importantly, I am grateful for the people who made that journey possible.
The greatest lesson FunKey taught me is that leadership is not about leaving your mark on an organization. It is about serving a community, helping it grow, and preparing others to carry it forward.
For that lesson, I will always be thankful.