In and Out of Place: On Bringing Myself Everywhere I Go

By: Victoria Marx

From an early age I found myself drawn to making music and songwriting. When I was twelve, I got my first acoustic guitar, courtesy of my parents. Soon afterwards, I began taking guitar lessons from a family friend at a local music shop. Over the years, I tried various sports, but nothing caught my attention quite like music did. I considered joining choir or band, but those options felt stuffy and unappealing. From there, I realized I was less interested in the idea of learning sheet music and more interested in figuring out how to build my musical skill set as a vessel for my own creations. In retrospect, that experience would’ve been a useful foundation, but hindsight is always clearer, and everyone’s path is different.

Photo by Juliet Fromholt on 91.3 WYSO Public Radio Pictured from left to right: Charlie Cummins, Keenan Michelsen, Andrew Donahue, Abby Morgan, Victoria Marx, Olivia Melbye, Jaxon St. Clair, Allie Hazelwood

I had a particularly difficult time in middle school and high school. Socially and academically, I oftentimes struggled with feeling burnt out or alienated. It’s no secret that public schools aren’t the most suitable for creatives–I felt uninspired, stifled, and generally unengaged. Consequently, I found myself leaning into my individuality as a way to self-soothe, as if my identity was a choice rather than something that was inescapable. Decidedly, if I was going to be different from my peers, then I would own it. To this day, I operate in the same way, by allowing myself to unapologetically take up space. In my sophomore year of high school, I was given the opportunity to leave my small, rural school for a vocational school with a vocal music program.

At Butler Tech School of the Arts (SOA), being unique was the rule, not the exception. It was at SOA where I found community, self-actualization, and the joy that comes with collaborating when making art. I’ve never come face to face with myself as intimately as I did in that environment. Everything felt alive and vibrant: always moving and shifting along with the energy my peers and I carried into a practice or performance. Every one of us operated as parts of a whole to produce something larger than ourselves.

Pictured left to right: Jamie Davis and Victoria Marx

My mornings at SOA consisted of walking into school, meeting my best friend Olivia in the lobby, and the two of us skipping and giggling on the way to breakfast. Afterwards, we’d scramble back to our classrooms. I always spent more time in the instrumentalist’s classroom than my own, opting to hangout with friends right up until the bell rang. On those mornings, Jamie, (an extremely talented musician and Cincinnati native, by the way) would play Phoebe Bridgers’ songs on an acoustic guitar while I’d sing along. Simple moments like these ones are crystalized in my memory like honey–warm, rich, and indulgent.

Preparation for our shows was organized chaos, characterized by loud voices excitedly talking over one another. Conversations about logistics and our artistic choices filtered through the room: “Would this song fit better towards the end of the set list?” or “I’m thinking of singing it like this instead.” We were given so much autonomy to fill the empty space however we saw fit. Creating a new show felt like being handed an empty canvas where we’d consult on which colors to use and how to incorporate our individual styles. It was exhilarating being trusted with those choices as a young person, especially at a time where it felt like so much of your life was in other people’s hands.

Pictured above from left to right: Charlie Cummins, Keenan Michelsen, Victoria Marx, Andrew Donahue, Avery Huff, and Azriel O’Malley

When I graduated, I received a vocal music certification alongside my diploma, and countless transcendent memories and moments. Since then, I’ve gone on to earn my bachelor’s degree in Media and Communication and Arts Management. I still go wherever the eccentric people are knowing it’ll feel like home all the same. The truth is, I’ve found there are wonderful little pockets of beautiful, rare people and places that are hiding in plain sight just waiting for you to find them.

Let your curiosity guide you and you’ll never really be lost—only wandering, and learning more to keep in your back pocket for your future travels. Finding the people and places that excite you can mean everything when your routine feels mundane and stagnant. There’s a particular thrill in being somewhere new surrounded by good company. If stepping out into the unknown feels daunting, you just haven’t ventured out far enough.

Pictured above: Victoria Marx performing at the SOA 2022 Vocal Showcase

I used to be scared to spend so much time with other people because I was afraid of losing the shape of myself as I molded into something unrecognizable. Looking back, I suppose this is partially true. Afterall, we’re all amalgamations of those we hold closest to us. Change is inevitable, but I can’t help but be struck by the idea that the more people whose paths you cross, the more familiar you become with what’s constant within yourself.

When I got the opportunity to join WanderRoots, I felt compelled to make these paths towards community clearer for anyone who's looking for a place to belong, even if just for a short time. I know it can feel as though you’re stuck in one place, especially as a young person, but you can, and you will, find uncharted territories that the past version of you couldn’t even fathom. Keep searching.

#rootingforyou