Internship Landed

After a semester’s hard work of scouring the internet for writing positions, I landed an internship at The first thing I did when I heard the news was fill out the online acceptance form. The second thing I did was to leap up from my chair and do a happy dance. This happy dance was a disco with a lot of bouncing. If my sister could have seen it, she would have teased me mercilessly. Because that’s what sisters do. is a site that publishes petitions for progressive causes like social justice, animal welfare, and the environment. My first petition was an appeal to the mayor of the City of Victoria, trying to get them to stop dumping their raw sewage into the ocean. As you can imagine, raw sewage does not mix well with marine ecosystems. And Victoria currently dumps over 34 million gallons of it into the ocean every day. Not good.

This internship is something I’m excited about doing for its own sake. Even if I wasn’t trying to build up a writing career, I would still want to do it because the causes it works for are important. What I’ve discovered about myself through my semester of job searching is that I don’t want to be in it just for the paycheck. Don’t get me wrong. The paycheck is important. Right now, I’m saving up for my independence.  I live with my mother and I’d like to get my own place. But eight hours a day five days a week is a long time to spend on something I don’t care about.

So my advice to all you new graduates heading out into the world is to try and find something that interests you. That and don’t get too discouraged, it may take a few months but eventually you will land something. And when you do, it’s okay to cut loose and do a happy dance.

Make a Ruckus

In which nice and pretty and accessible are none of the words with which to describe Daniel Wolfert.


To my dear reader,

Introducing the eponymous musical piece on my March 2016 composition recital RUCKUS: A Recital of New Music by Daniel Wolfert, I forewarned the audience that it might be unappealing to some. The piece, I told them, was long-winded, confusing, and oftentimes purposefully ugly. The piece, I told them, was not nice or pretty or accessible. The important thing to remember, I told them, was that I wasn’t there to be nice or pretty or accessible. I was there to make a ruckus.

Walking away from my last concert with the Adelphians Concert Choir – the mixed voice musical ensemble I have been a part of since the beginning of college – I cannot help but feel relieved to never have to sing in it again, but also unsurprisingly dissatisfied. Looking back on my time here, I cannot help but feel that my successes – among them, my recital itself – have primarily been unrelated to, or even in spite of, the School of Music.

I spent the first two years of college studying with a voice teacher that was widely disrespected by the other students, and was responsible for teaching me so ineptly that I was in almost constant pain from singing by the end of my sophomore year. When I finally informed the head of the vocal department of this, she kindly moved me to a better teacher for the first semester of my junior year. The next semester, however, that teacher was on sabbatical, to be replaced by an old-fashioned vocal professor that clearly considered me a second-tier vocalist. Although that teacher left and the second teacher returned for my senior year, this still only gave me three semesters with someone that had any interest in me and my voice. I am leaving college feeling exhausted and insecure in my own vocal abilities.

I’ve spent the past five semesters studying composition with a teacher that taught me well, but due to the design of the school, was unable to give me the opportunities a school that catered to composers might. He certainly meant for the best, but the response from the school concerning my compositions was one of general disinterest. In spite of the fact that I was one of the few students in the School of Music creating contemporary classical music, I was not given particular interest or time by the students or faculty, and have never received any sort of recognition for my contributions in this regard. I am leaving college feeling disregarded and unappreciated.

Perhaps this is a question of games. Belligerent and irascible child I am, I have never felt I have succeeded in the School of Music because I have little interest in playing by their rules. Do not misunderstand; I have learned a great deal from the School of Music. But if this is the game, I have no desire to play it.

I am not here to play games. I am only here to win them.

I am not here to make nice. I am only here to make a ruckus.

With all due respect,

Daniel Wolfert

Wayzgoose 2016

This weekend marked another successful Wayzgoose print festival at King’s Books, one of my favorite things to look forward to during spring in Tacoma. My housemate and I arrived this morning just in time to see the traditional steam roller print taking place, with a beautiful design carved by Tacoma’s own guerrilla art group, Beautiful Angle!


Image courtesy of Beautiful Angle’s Facebook page

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