Estill Master Trainer: Finally
Receiving the official word that I’d passed my Estill Master Trainer certification felt surreal—like breathing out after holding my breath for years. This wasn’t just a credential. It was a moment of arrival after years of study, practice, mistakes, frustrations, wins, and fears—but doing it anyway.
What most people don’t know is that I started the Estill Master Trainer certification process in 2021—right in the thick of the pandemic. When we were barely able to go into people’s houses, I was beginning the testing procedures to obtain this certification. And this was on top of an already full life: running a business, teaching clients, creating content, and navigating everything else that comes with holding space for others while trying to stay grounded yourself. There were delays. There were doubts. There were seasons where I paused. But I always came back to it.
What drew me to Estill was the precision and language it gave me to describe the voice in real, tangible ways. I’ve always believed the voice is an emotional, physical, and spiritual instrument—but sometimes, we need tools to guide that intuition. Estill gave me both structure and permission. It helped me understand what my voice was doing—and how to teach others to find that same understanding in their own.
I’ll never forget the day my friend Keyona Willis stopped me in the hallway at The Ohio State University and said, “You need to look into Estill.” That was around 2012 or 2013—and that single moment is what started this journey. She saw how I was trying to teach, how I wanted to really help people unlock their voices—not just copy sounds, but understand them. She knew these tools would help me give language to what I was already doing instinctively.
When I went to my first Estill course, I was completely lost. I didn’t know what I was walking into. But that course—and the community I found there—ended up changing my professional and personal life for the better.
Keyona passed away a little over a year ago after a battle with cancer, but her encouragement planted the seed that started it all. I carry that with me.
There were moments I wanted to quit. Like, truly. The Estill Master Trainer certification is a multi-layered process—there’s a written exam, an oral exam, and a practical evaluation where you’re observed teaching in real time. And being observed? That’s humbling. It’s one thing to coach clients in your rhythm, in your space—but it’s another thing entirely to be watched and assessed while trying to speak a very specific pedagogical language at the same time.
I knew how to teach. I knew how to connect. But suddenly, I had to slow down and explain every little thing—with precision, clarity, and confidence. There were times I second-guessed myself mid-demo. Times I watched feedback videos and thought, “Maybe this isn’t for me.” But I reminded myself that growth rarely feels glamorous. Mastery isn’t about being flawless. It’s about being faithful. So I stayed in it.
I’m deeply grateful for the people who carried me through this process—because I definitely didn’t do it alone. Dr. Kim Steinhauer, President of Estill Voice International and my mentor throughout this journey, was my anchor. Her wisdom, patience, and guidance grounded me every step of the way. Tom Burke, who served as one of my observers, was also instrumental. His work and teaching have been a long-standing source of inspiration in my Estill journey.
I’m also thankful for Estill community (aka, my fellow “Estillians”), as well as my colleagues, friends, and fellow explorers of the voice—those who offered encouragement, shared knowledge, and reminded me that I wasn’t crazy for pursuing this. And to everyone who graciously allowed me to practice and refine my teaching skills during the observation phase: thank you.
A special thank-you to Marc Candia and Keturah Prothro-Harris, who let me record and redo observation videos with them multiple times. Your generosity and trust meant the world.
Most of all, I’m thankful to God, and to my family and friends who lifted me up through the moments I wanted to tap out. This win belongs to all of you, too.
And to Keyona Willis—this one’s for you, friend. I thought about you this whole time. Thank you for being an inspiration to me, for being so kind, and for pushing me to pursue Estill.
This journey taught me that technical knowledge doesn’t cancel out artistry—it strengthens it and ensures it. I’ve always believed that vocal technique doesn’t make or break the gift, but it does protect it, clarify it, and give it staying power. The more I understood about the voice, the more freedom I found in mine. And that freedom now gets to multiply in every session, every class, every voice who walks into the studio unsure of their sound. That’s the real win.
If you’re pursuing something that feels bigger than you—or slower than expected—keep going. It might not unfold the way you imagined. It might stretch you more than you planned. But if God placed it on your heart, trust that He’ll sustain you through it. And when it lands? When it finally clicks? It’ll be worth every draft, every delay, and every day you showed up in faith.
Here’s to every unlocked sound, every voice waiting to be understood, and every story waiting to be told—clearly, powerfully, and freely.