A Full House, A Shared Moment: Quincy’s Festival Choir Concert Shows Why the Arts Matter
A packed house, powerful voices, and a reminder of why Quincy continues to invest in the arts and the young people they shape.
By the time the lights dimmed, there wasn’t a seat left in the room.
People were standing along the walls, quietly shifting to make space for one more person, one more family member trying to catch a glimpse of their kid on stage. Conversations softened into anticipation, and then, almost all at once, the room settled. The directors stepped on to the stage to set the tone for the show. The first choir quietly filtered on to the risers and with a wave of her hand the first notes began to rise, and for a little while, everything else in the world felt farther away.
That’s what a night like last night does.
The Quincy School District’s Festival Choir Concert didn’t just fill the PAC. It pulled a community together into the same moment, the same breath, the same shared experience that only music seems to create.
And it didn’t take long to feel it.
From the younger voices just finding their footing to the older students carrying a quiet confidence, the progression was there in front of you. Beginning choir students stepping into pieces like Galop and Peaceful River, learning how to listen, how to blend, how to be part of something larger than themselves. Then the advanced groups, stretching into more layered, expressive work like Bonse Aba and Cielito Lindo, where rhythm and culture start to carry more weight. And by the time the high school choirs took the stage, the room had settled into something deeper—something earned.
You could hear the difference. You could feel the growth.
And woven throughout the night were the moments that make these concerts stick with you—the soloists stepping forward, the small ensembles finding their balance together, the quiet pride that shows up in a student’s posture when they realize they’ve nailed something difficult. Names like Juan Ferreyra and Owen Yeates taking center stage, duets and small groups like Ruby Gonzalez and Belle Rollins bringing personality into the performance, and full choirs filling the space with something that felt far bigger than the number of voices on stage.
It would have been easy to just call it a great concert and leave it there.
But nights like this point to something bigger.
Because music does something that’s hard to explain until you’ve felt it.
Galileo once said mathematics is the language the universe is written in, and there’s truth to that—you can see patterns and structure everywhere you look. But if that’s the language of the universe, then music might be the language given to the soul.
It crosses lines that nothing else quite can. Language doesn’t matter. Background doesn’t matter. You can sit in a room with people you’ve never met, from places you’ve never been, and still feel the same thing at the same time. Nietzsche said without music, life would be a mistake. That sounds like a big statement until you watch a room full of people lean forward together, caught in a moment that no one wants to end.
And for the students on that stage, it’s doing more than creating a good night.
Music shapes how they grow.
There’s the academic side—better memory, stronger pattern recognition, higher engagement—but what stands out more is what you can’t measure as easily. The confidence it builds. The discipline it requires. The way it teaches young people to show up for each other, to listen, to adjust, to be part of something that only works if everyone does their part.
It gives them a voice, even when they don’t quite have the words yet.
For a lot of us sitting in that audience, that part probably felt familiar.
I grew up in music programs myself—orchestra, then band, plenty of singing along the way. I never did choir, not because I didn’t want to, but because back then you had to choose. But the pieces of that experience stuck. The rehearsals. The performances. The friendships built somewhere between practice and performance. If you’ve ever been part of a music program, you know those moments don’t really leave you.
They become part of how you remember growing up.
And watching these students last night, you could see those same moments being built in real time.
You could also see something else worth celebrating.
Several of these students aren’t just performing locally—they’ve qualified at the state level, representing Quincy beyond our community. That doesn’t happen by accident. It comes from hours most people never see, from effort that happens long before the lights come up and the audience fills the room.
It’s worth recognizing. It’s worth being proud of.
Quincy performers heading to the state competition this coming April:
🥇 Spectrum Choir – Large Mixed Ensemble
🥇 The Bach Babies (Ruby Gonzalez & Belle Rollins) – Small Soprano/Alto Ensemble
🥇 Juan Ferreyra – Tenor Solo
🥇 Owen Yeates – Bass Solo
State-Eligible Alternate positions in their categories — placing them just on the cusp of advancing:
🥉 Eithan Villarrooz, Bass Solo
🥉 The Fantastic 4 (Juan Ferreyra, JazzLynn Padron, Gabriela Vidrio Ramirez, Owen Yeates), Small Mixed Ensemble
🥉 Spectrum Sonoro, Large Tenor/Bass Ensemble
Because programs like this don’t just sustain themselves.
Across the country, arts programs are often the first to be scaled back or cut when budgets get tight. They’re treated like extras instead of essentials.
That’s not the choice Quincy has made.
This community has decided—through its support, through its votes, through its presence in rooms like last night—that music and the arts matter. That they’re worth investing in. That giving students these opportunities is part of what it means to build something healthy here.
That choice shows up in moments like this.
It shows up in a packed house. It shows up in the quality on stage. It shows up in the pride you can feel in the room.
And it shows up in the people leading these programs—directors like Shaina Stuckey and Kylie Youngren—who are doing more than teaching notes and rhythms. They’re building confidence, creating opportunity, and helping shape the kind of experiences these students will carry with them long after they leave these halls.
Last night was a reflection of all of that.
It was a celebration of students. Of effort. Of growth. Of a community that continues to show up for its kids in meaningful ways.
And if you were there, you felt it.
If you weren’t, you still have a chance.
The band takes the stage Thursday night.
If last night is any indication, you might want to get there early.