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So Hoff, who directed the Women's Chorale at Coe, died in his home earlier this week. For those of you less schooled in the subtleties of writing and speaking, that's usually code for "suicide" and that was confirmed for me today about twenty minutes ago. There are Coe alums all over the internet buzzing about it, and I already tweeted and wrote on Facebook about it but I'm still trying to make sense of this.
Hoff was not everybody's favorite teacher, as I said, and sometimes he wasn't mine. He pushed for excellence and sometimes I wondered wtf he was doing with us, but it always had results. Sometimes I was resentful for being in the chorale -- it did feel like a consolation prize to not being "good enough" for the mixed choir at times, but there are other times where I would not have jumped to the mixed choir if they'd asked me. I'm sure if you go back into the archives of my journal there will be posts littered with 'OH MY GOD I HATE HOFF RIGHT NOW' and the like, but the fact is that those moments were fleeting. My time with Hoff was... well for lack of a better term, magical.
He was a hard taskmaster at times, yes, but it was all to make us better singers. I love to sing, and I love music. Behind his madness there was method, and always passion. He loved music and he loved theatre. He was head of the New York term program and while I didn't go on that exchange, I did get to go to Europe. I had to have three letters of recommendation; one I got from Steven (a theatre professor), one from Dr. Buckaloo (history) and the third I got from Hoff. He also wrote me a letter for grad school; I don't think it was SUNY (I don't remember how many letters I needed for here) but he did write me one and so because he did that I got to do things that I wasn't sure I would get to do. Some of my favorite memories at Coe, too, are the Winter Convocation, where WC sang the music (I love Christmas music) and the spring concerts, where sometimes it was so dang hot in Sinclair I thought I was going to fall over.
He loved theatre, and he knew I did too. When I was a senior he had made a trip to NY over winter break and had gone to see a bunch of shows. He brought in the souvenir program from Spring Awakening and the revival of Sunday in the Park with George so I could take a look at them. It was a small gesture, but one that meant a lot to me -- and now I'm in New York where Broadway is a train ride away. One year we did music from Phantom of the Opera at our spring concert, so we all gathered at his house, watched the movie, and then we had food after -- lots of delicious food.
Undergrad is the days before I got my depression and anxiety under control, and some mornings -- particularly late fall and winter, I think some of it was seasonal -- I just did not want to get out of bed. It's hard to describe but it is just the complete lack of will to do anything except lay in warm darkness. But most mornings I got out of bed, because I knew that at 12:00 or 11:00 or whenever rolled around, I got to go sing. I was never suicidal -- seriously anyway -- but I was probably close.
To know someone was in some kind of pain so awful that they thought that was the only way is awful, especially when they themselves had a hand in alleviating that pain for you, is indescribable. I wish there was a way I could have known, could have helped, could have repaid him. I don't know what he was thinking or feeling, but I still wish that I could have. Even though I have a certain flair for the dramatic, I'm not saying this to go "oh look at me, a professor I was close to died" or "I deal with these issues too," I am just trying to sort out how I feel. I'm sad. I'm a little angry (in general). I am just generally, all around, upset. I owe the teachers I was close to as an undergraduate a great debt, because it was at Coe that I started becoming the person I am today and started heading towards the person I wanted to become. They all had an amazing hand in that, and one of them took his own life for... whatever reason.
I suppose that I have no choice but to pay it forward, do everything my best, and make every showtune I sing just as expressive and wonderful as Hoff could have hoped to make it.
Guys, suicide doesn't just affect teenagers and young adults. Though I don't really know my thoughts on right to die, I do believe that suicide is a very drastic and permanent solution when the hurt is in your heart and soul and not your body. If you are having suicidal thoughts, then PLEASE tell someone. Anyone. If that someone doesn't listen to you and help you, tell someone else. Tell me. I'll listen, I'll metaphorically hold your hand (literally if I am close enough), and I will help you help yourself best that I can. I'm not a therapist or trained for psychology or anything, I just know what it's like to be in an enormous amount of pain that you don't know what to do with. We can find a better solution than suicide together.
Say a prayer for Richard Hoffman. He touched a lot of lives at Coe, and there are many more who will never be blessed to say they knew him, but he was a man with an enormous heart and a lot of soul, and that should not go unrecognized. Love him or hate him, no one should ever have to feel like suicide is the only option.
Hoff was not everybody's favorite teacher, as I said, and sometimes he wasn't mine. He pushed for excellence and sometimes I wondered wtf he was doing with us, but it always had results. Sometimes I was resentful for being in the chorale -- it did feel like a consolation prize to not being "good enough" for the mixed choir at times, but there are other times where I would not have jumped to the mixed choir if they'd asked me. I'm sure if you go back into the archives of my journal there will be posts littered with 'OH MY GOD I HATE HOFF RIGHT NOW' and the like, but the fact is that those moments were fleeting. My time with Hoff was... well for lack of a better term, magical.
He was a hard taskmaster at times, yes, but it was all to make us better singers. I love to sing, and I love music. Behind his madness there was method, and always passion. He loved music and he loved theatre. He was head of the New York term program and while I didn't go on that exchange, I did get to go to Europe. I had to have three letters of recommendation; one I got from Steven (a theatre professor), one from Dr. Buckaloo (history) and the third I got from Hoff. He also wrote me a letter for grad school; I don't think it was SUNY (I don't remember how many letters I needed for here) but he did write me one and so because he did that I got to do things that I wasn't sure I would get to do. Some of my favorite memories at Coe, too, are the Winter Convocation, where WC sang the music (I love Christmas music) and the spring concerts, where sometimes it was so dang hot in Sinclair I thought I was going to fall over.
He loved theatre, and he knew I did too. When I was a senior he had made a trip to NY over winter break and had gone to see a bunch of shows. He brought in the souvenir program from Spring Awakening and the revival of Sunday in the Park with George so I could take a look at them. It was a small gesture, but one that meant a lot to me -- and now I'm in New York where Broadway is a train ride away. One year we did music from Phantom of the Opera at our spring concert, so we all gathered at his house, watched the movie, and then we had food after -- lots of delicious food.
Undergrad is the days before I got my depression and anxiety under control, and some mornings -- particularly late fall and winter, I think some of it was seasonal -- I just did not want to get out of bed. It's hard to describe but it is just the complete lack of will to do anything except lay in warm darkness. But most mornings I got out of bed, because I knew that at 12:00 or 11:00 or whenever rolled around, I got to go sing. I was never suicidal -- seriously anyway -- but I was probably close.
To know someone was in some kind of pain so awful that they thought that was the only way is awful, especially when they themselves had a hand in alleviating that pain for you, is indescribable. I wish there was a way I could have known, could have helped, could have repaid him. I don't know what he was thinking or feeling, but I still wish that I could have. Even though I have a certain flair for the dramatic, I'm not saying this to go "oh look at me, a professor I was close to died" or "I deal with these issues too," I am just trying to sort out how I feel. I'm sad. I'm a little angry (in general). I am just generally, all around, upset. I owe the teachers I was close to as an undergraduate a great debt, because it was at Coe that I started becoming the person I am today and started heading towards the person I wanted to become. They all had an amazing hand in that, and one of them took his own life for... whatever reason.
I suppose that I have no choice but to pay it forward, do everything my best, and make every showtune I sing just as expressive and wonderful as Hoff could have hoped to make it.
Guys, suicide doesn't just affect teenagers and young adults. Though I don't really know my thoughts on right to die, I do believe that suicide is a very drastic and permanent solution when the hurt is in your heart and soul and not your body. If you are having suicidal thoughts, then PLEASE tell someone. Anyone. If that someone doesn't listen to you and help you, tell someone else. Tell me. I'll listen, I'll metaphorically hold your hand (literally if I am close enough), and I will help you help yourself best that I can. I'm not a therapist or trained for psychology or anything, I just know what it's like to be in an enormous amount of pain that you don't know what to do with. We can find a better solution than suicide together.
Say a prayer for Richard Hoffman. He touched a lot of lives at Coe, and there are many more who will never be blessed to say they knew him, but he was a man with an enormous heart and a lot of soul, and that should not go unrecognized. Love him or hate him, no one should ever have to feel like suicide is the only option.
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