Thinking about the impact music has had on my life, it’s hard to put into words. I think about the summer of 2005. I think about my first MP3 player. I think about my mom making up her own lyrics to the top forties. I think about freedom and discovery; I think about fun. Whenever life’s felt grave, music has been my apostle.

Between the third and fourth grade, I was invited to participate in the premiere cohort of Literacy Through Hip Hop. What started as a summer program designed to strengthen literacy skills — including reading, writing, and speaking — for Toronto’s inner-city youth quickly expanded into a space where hundreds of students become better acquainted with language through music. I walked away from LTHH feeling anything was possible. That summer was my first time on TV, my first time in a recording booth, and the first time I remember anyone telling me that I would be a musician.

Growing up, my house was more of a radio house than a TV house, especially in the old days. FLOW93.5, Chum-FM, The New Classical, Jazz-FM, Virgin Radio, CHFI, The Edge, even CIUT – nothing was really off the table. It wasn’t long after LTHH before I was dragging my mom through Best Buy, set on a Walkman, settling on an MP3 player. I would eat a hundred Klondike bars to get back that little gadget! It could record the radio as it played, opening a world of late night listening, and throwing me headfirst into curating a collection of sounds, styles, and sonic scapes I’d yet to witness.

Whether it’s cutting the legs off your pants, mixing hotdogs into KD, or featuring Nicki Minaj, I love a good remix — and no one does it better than my mom. Long before Weird Al Yankovic or Homer Simpson, my mom’s been marching to the beat of her own drum, singing her own tune. With classic hits like “Don’t cha wish your cookies taste good like mine?”, “Ain’t nobody fresh as Noah”, and my favourite, “Cover Girl! Put some face in your walk”, my mom’s discography is the one to beat. Never encumbered by the rules or the lyrics, at karaoke, my mom’s playing her own game. More of us should follow her lead.

Music is an expression of the human condition — deeply transformative, and a powerful point of connection. It has the ability to shape our experiences by externalizing our histories, emotional landscapes, and stories. By exploring the inner world, music can help us navigate complex feelings, acting as a catalyst for catharsis. To release stress, expand my sense of self, or invite the world to know me more intimately, I turn to music. It works for me, every time.