top of page

Jeremy Freer

E9A2ED66-C1E6-4431-B54F-F54D6A07A6C9_1_105_c.jpeg

Senior Associate Director

Green Machine Ensembles

Ah, the web page bio. The bane of those who despise pretending they aren’t writing about themselves in the third person or professional wrestlers (The Boulder objects!). Hello there. I’m Jeremy Freer and I’ve been with the Green Machine and Mason in one form or another since Fall of 2006. Before I bore you with my brain creds and history, let me tell you what I do now. I have grown from part-time member and volunteer to earning the super fancy title of Senior Associate Director of Green Machine Ensembles, or SADGaME for short, which, historically, could also have been used to describe my flirting skills. 

 

I am fortunate enough to define “work” as teaching one of the world’s greatest bands and writing most of their music (over 100 arrangements and counting!). I regularly perform on guitar and vocals with staff and students to support Mason events. My current passion project is collaborating with the Green Machine staff to field and document a Parade Band which preserves the spirit and inclusivity of the pep band. I also have been a fairly versatile professor of many a one-off course for the School of Music and have taught a few regular classes for them, as well. I spend my personal time with my wife and daughter and our adorkable but spastic dogs. We do Crossfit and play board games, pickleball, D&D, and a lot of nunya. Nunya business.

 

If I have to do this part, it’ll be my way, so here’s my ocho-step guide to my educational history:

  1. I had a rad Earth Science teacher in 8th grade (shoutout Mr. White!) who inspired me to want to teach. Then in high school, I found band and the shared purpose and community it provided. So long, science!

  2. I got some degrees: Bachelor’s in Music Education from LSU (2000) (Geaux Tigres!/T-rumpets!), Master’s in Music Performance from Mason (2010). Currently, I am continuing my education at Mason. Never stop being a student.

  3. I did some teaching, mostly Elementary School band in Fairfax County (great job and students!). I taught some marching bands as a clinician (where I met and befriended a not-yet-Dr. Mike Nickens) and eventually, tried my hand at writing show music and drill and failed rather miserably (sorry John and Melissa!). Turns out I’m just better at rehearsing a marching band, at least for now.

  4. Then, as a slight deviation, I joined the Marine Corps reserves, mainly because I was so grateful for the opportunities I had here growing up and wanted to serve if I was ever needed. Plot twist - you’ll never guess for what some really smart and not-at-all greedy politicians decided that I was “needed.” Yup. Iraq. Somewhere which we definitely weren’t sent on a C130 fueled by lies and where we very much should have been.

  5. I came back completely ok and not suffering from any crippling PTSD at all. I started a degree at UVA through the grace of an old mentor, Bill Pease, but I wasn’t ready and drove that into the ground (sorry Bill!), definitely not as a result of the aforementioned and nonexistent PTSD.

  6. After metaphorically wandering a vast and lonely desert, I found out my friend-now-Dr. Mike Nickens won the job at Mason to teach music with the pep band, so I volunteered to help. Turns out as bad as I was at writing marching band music/drill, I do ok at music teaching and pep band arranging. So I did that. A lot. 

  7. I’m still here. Yup. Even after spectacularly and embarrassingly failing at some things and having my adventure go all cattywampus. 

  8. The moral of this chapter of my story is: If you think you need to appear perfect to end up in the job of your dreams, think again. Authenticity > Appearance. You can learn and grow from honest mistakes if you own them instead of trying to desperately cover them up. 

 

You probably already know that the Green Machine, hereafter referred to as the GM (which won’t be confusing at all being at George Mason University), has a stellar performance reputation. What is harder to capture, though Josh Cruse and our media and social media teams do a great job, is how great the humans in this band are and especially, are to each other. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever,” you say, “so what is this program anyways?” Why do you talk like that? Sheesh. From day one of Dr. Nickens’ arrival, it was a shared vision that we should make this group authentically inclusive by simply keeping an open mind and welcoming those who wanted to be here. We do our best to make space for any instrument/voice at any skill level as long as the person is also willing to put in the effort to make collaborative space for themselves. This leaves the band in a consistent pattern of being left better than each class finds it and leaving them better as they move into the next phase of their lives. Are those in the band perfect? Absolutely not. Sometimes they wrap my cables wrong or thoughtlessly ding a mellophone bell or leave a key piece of gear behind on a trip or break off a sousaphone valve stem which makes hard work for my friend Jeff and it makes me extra SADGaME. How fortunate am I, though, if those are my worst problems? “Very” is the answer and I’m grateful every day for the work I get to do with a staff of friends and student leaders who carry the torch of the service-minded into a future starving for light. 

 

So, where do you fit in, be you student, community member, supporter, avid bobblehead collector, etc.? The GM has cell receptors for you all. You just have to honor that openness by showing up with your work ethic and sharing the goal of crafting the next version of this truly exemplary group. Bring it.

 

P.S. My main instrument is trumpet, but I was also the GM’s first guitar player (barely passable, happily relieved by David Roth), audio engineer (we have much better ones now), and gong whacker…guy (Carmina Burana Mason Madness 20-long time ago!). I have also played bass drum, and this is true, but only twice and only with major recording artists (Lady A/GRiZ).

 

P.S.P.S. This is what you say to call a cat, but it probably won’t come because cats are jerks.

bottom of page