Kiera Walsh, the Pragmatic Rockstar.
Image provided by Kiera Walsh
Every night, after a long school day, Kiera Walsh returns home to her poster-covered dorm, picks up her mint green, vintage electric guitar and messes around with chord progressions or new melodies. As a sophomore double majoring in political science and law, society and policy, her day is filled with classes like Constitutional Law or The Judicial Process, so the moment she comes home to her musical sanctuary and strums the silver strings of her guitar, she winds down.
“It’s as easy as sleeping for me,” she told me one warm Thursday afternoon as we sat in her stuffy dorm room — me on the chair she kindly offered, her on a bright pink step stool on the floor. On her walls were signs of a carefully curated musical taste, manifested in eye-catching, psychedelic posters of classic rock’s greatest Fleetwood Mac and Grateful Dead and modern folk stars Noah Kahan and Hozier. These artists and the jazz sounds she’s learned from her minor in piano and vocal jazz studies are her biggest musical influences, both for her performances in student bands XO and After Hours — and for her private songwriting.
Walsh remembers her childhood in Downingtown, Pennsylvania, as filled with music. Her mom, a clarinet player, and her dad, a “Deadhead,” used to play classic rock songs on the car radio, lighting a spark within Walsh that still ignites her passion. At age 3, they placed her in a preschool music camp where she learned to play glockenspiel and began reading sheet music. From there, she was taken up by a demanding classical piano teacher, who challenged her to learn music theory despite only being 5 years old.
Classically trained but inclined towards rock, when Walsh was 12, she joined her hometown’s School of Rock, a performance-based music school where kids can gain experience as “gigging” musicians. Tom McKee, director of the Downingtown franchise, recalls meeting Walsh at a summer camp, where he was impressed with her classical training but didn’t think much else. His first real impression of her was at one of the school’s punk concerts, where little 12-year-old Walsh picked up the microphone and belted out a cover of “Institutionalized” by thrash metal band Suicidal Tendencies. “People knew her name after that show,” he said.
Back in her dorm room, Walsh opted for a more serene performance, playing a piano version of Adele’s “Make Me Feel Your Love” and an electric guitar rendition of Tina Turner’s “The Best.” Her voice is a satisfying mix of gentle and velvety, with an underlying power that sent shivers down my spine. When I asked her if she would pursue music professionally (as she undoubtedly has the talent to), Walsh answered that although it has been her greatest dream, her pragmatic worldview has made her lean towards a career that will offer her stability in the future: law.
“We don’t live in a perfect world, and I made the decision that I should put my well-being and my financial plan at the forefront of what I was doing,” she said.
When Walsh first applied to college, she took a shot at New York University’s early decision songwriting program. She submitted some of her original work, which she had never publicly performed, and was rejected. NYU’s rejection was a wake-up call, not that she was not good enough to make a living out of music, but that her dream was a “gamble” (as she called it) because there was always the possibility that the world might not agree with her music or want to give her a platform.
She pivoted and decided that political science at Syracuse University, where a lively music scene would allow her to continue to pursue her passion, was the best of both worlds. During her first year at SU, she formed two student bands with her best friends: rock band After Hours and girl-only XO. Now established within the music scene, her weekends always involve performances at student house venues, where she plays a range of her favorite classic rock covers — her go-to being “Dreams” by the Cranberries.
Walsh’s XO bandmate, Annie Knobloch, described the band as a “brainchild” between three friends who realized they shared a common need for a musical outlet. Part of the band’s nature involves knowing each other not just as friends but as musicians since the three switch roles, playing instruments with each song. Knobloch described Walsh’s presence in the band as dynamic-forward because, based on her jazz background, she always tries to have her part memorized and perfected. “She just knows how to make a song happen,” she said.
But when it comes to her songwriting, Walsh holds back. While we sat in her dorm room, she admitted that she is scared people won’t like her songs (a reasonable fear for any musician). But her fear, as I would learn, also relates to how people will react to what she writes about.
On her third day at SU, Walsh experienced the kind of incident that happens too often on college campuses. In a column she wrote for the Daily Orange, she advocates for a better response system from the university’s Title IX Office, one that let her down at a time when she needed emotional support. She told me how, during the aftermath, she could not get herself to do anything except sit on her bed and play her guitar. From this time came deeply personal songs and lyrics that Walsh is reluctant to share with the world.
I left Walsh’s dorm room that day, reflecting on the healing power of music and the role it has had in her life. Despite her self-announced pragmatism, Walsh turns to her music to destress, and at one of the most difficult moments in her life, it gave her the channel she needed to explain the unexplainable. Now, she is working on setting up an advisory board with the Title IX coordinators to reform the way survivors will receive support in the future.
About an hour after our conversation, I received a message from Walsh containing a recording of one of her original songs, a song that, if she one day decides to share with the world, I know will make her voice one that deserves to be heard.