Written by Diego Miguel Heilbron

Dear Miles Davis

My name is Diego Heilbron, I am 15 years old, and I have been listening to your songs for a while. Despite you already being dead, the purpose of this letter is that I wanted to tell you that my admiration for you is indescribable, your determination and resilience just have no comparison. Despite having lived and passed through tough times, you followed your dreams. Despite facing unjust treatments, you followed your dreams. Despite having drug addiction problems, you followed your dreams. You never let any of the adversities you encountered drag you down. You always persevere and never let anything stop you from achieving what you wanted to do, even when the rest of the people were against you. You made decisions that most would find really questionable, but they were to follow your dreams. Not everyone is capable of doing that. You critiqued society and its exclusion of black people and their music. You didn’t let the barrier that was put in your way block you from achieving your goals. You were capable of not only accomplishing your dreams, but also were capable of transcending into history as one of the most important figures of jazz and music in general. It’s admirable that despite your father wanting you to do something specifically, you decided to do what you wanted to do instead, that was to search for your idol and play in bands. Despite choosing a self–destructive lifestyle during your studies at Juilliard School of Music, you were able to overcome that and change your life into a better one. You were able to, after trying once, twice, thrice, and many more times, to find and join your idol, Charlie Parker in his band. Out of all the 57 songs you wrote, I loved every single one of them, but between my favorite reside “Seven Steps to Heaven”. Your music is not only great, but also has a deeper meaning in them, trying to convey how uncomfortable you were with what you called “The white repertoire” in which music made by white people was given more importance than music created by black people. You were able to reach far and wide despite dealing with internal problems and racism. Not anyone could do that, despite facing so many big issues at once, and instead of collapsing or giving up using that adversity and suffering as a motivation, it’s really admirable. It’s a shame that your voice was damaged after your operation to remove polyps from your larynx, something that made your voice raspy and dark. Your death was painful and pierced my heart. To finish this letter of I wish you were able to make more music and inspire many more, you could have accomplished even more than you did, but it was sadly snatched from you by death. I wish you to have luck in the afterlife as you deserve to rest after having inspired and defended many. Without you, music would never have been the same.