By Nikki Hedrick
Holidays take all these shapes, dotted with family traditions and plates full of food. The underlying message is about taking time for loved ones.
Before I became enveloped in the music scene, my circle was small. There were a handful of people that I knew would act in my best interest, a handful of people that I could ask for help. Now, it’s my honor to know so many wonderful people—to watch high schoolers brave an open mic to perform, to watch ARC of Walton County in action, and to be able to produce a benefit for my friend Eddy Key.
I have watched this community, our community, come together time and again to support each other. Together we’ve helped people get transplants, created temporary housing for the homeless, raised funds when tragedy uproots families, and assisted in covering medical costs. We have accomplished those things, spreading joy, hope and a helping hand all year long.
Finding my home in the music community means I have cried tears of joy, laughed until my face hurt, and grieved deeply. It is my honor to call you all family. It is my honor to do my best to stand by your side and watch as we come together time and again.
It is easy to look at the big bad world sometimes, to read through headlines and scratch your head and feel overwhelmed by the vastness of it all.
I am lucky that I’ve found my tribe, my extended family that helps light up the world a bit. I get to see so many people fight the good fight, whether it’s singing a single song on a restaurant’s deck or donating energies to help out a friend.
I am a better person for knowing you, all of you scratching at your dreams and ready to help other members of the music community you might barely know in passing. Thank you for letting me be a small part of your community.
And thank you for always reminding me of the good that is possible.