Meet Laura Porter from Bloom Arts Foundation

Today we’d like to introduce you to Laura Porter.

Hi Laura, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story?
In early March of 2020, my husband, Dave Hemann, and I were running Bloom School of Music and Dance in Eagle Rock and raising our identical twin boys, who were in second grade. Life felt full, joyous, and steady. We were grateful.
At the same time, I was volunteering at my sons’ elementary school, bringing after-school music classes to the kids. They were deeply engaged—writing two original songs in just two weeks. I looked forward to those classes all week.
And then mid-March hit. Covid.

Almost overnight, everything changed. Dave and I went straight into survival mode, pivoting the entire school online in a matter of days. Suddenly our building was empty, but the music continued. We were grateful to still serve our families—offering their children a way to express themselves, feel connected, and be seen and heard during an isolating time. Music and dance became a form of emotional nourishment.

I’ve always believed the arts aren’t an enrichment—they’re a lifeline. Bloom’s mission has always been to help children build a lifelong relationship with music and dance, carrying it with them into adulthood.

But the truth beneath that gratitude was that most of those families had access because they could afford it.

What about the kids who didn’t? Shouldn’t this be the right of every child? The isolation of that time was an enormous weight for children and their families alike. Young people were experiencing anxiety, fear, and loss—often before they even had the words for it. This was a moment when kids needed the arts more than ever, yet so many were being left out, cut off from school, friends, and the social and emotional rhythms of daily life.

The gap before me felt enormous. There had to be a way to reach more children.

So I called a close friend, Radhika Fliegel—one of the smartest people I know—and said, “I have an idea, but I can’t do it without you.” She asked the hard questions, and somewhere in that conversation, our nonprofit, Bloom Arts Foundation, was born.

We co-founded the organization to bring high-quality music and movement education into schools and communities that lacked access—centering connection, belonging, and creative expression. What started as a response to a crisis has become a long-term commitment to equity, connection, and creativity for children—and the most meaningful and fulfilling work of my life.

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
We had an advantage from the start. Bloom School of Music and Dance had earned trust over time. I had more than a decade of experience as a small business owner and had already made many of the mistakes that come with building and scaling an organization. So when Radhika and I founded Bloom Arts Foundation, we weren’t starting from zero—we had community credibility, experience with hiring and systems, and a clear track record. Even schools unfamiliar with Bloom could see that the work had been rooted in practice since 2007, including years of shorter residencies in local elementary schools.

That said, the road has not been smooth.

In the fall of 2020, our first school district asked us to teach weekly music and movement classes to K–7th graders—entirely online. It was a huge challenge. Our teaching artists rose to the moment, families and school partners were deeply appreciative, and we learned an enormous amount very quickly. One of our biggest takeaways was simple but essential: communication is everything—especially in times of uncertainty.

Our most profound challenge came years later, during the fires in January of 2025. Entire communities we serve were devastated. Children, families, teachers, and schools were displaced—some losing homes, some losing school sites altogether. In Pasadena Unified, where we teach all PreK and TK classes, many of the children were three, four and five years old—many too young to articulate what they were feeling, yet deeply affected by the upheaval.

Imagine being four years old and being told you’re going to a new school because your old one isn’t safe anymore. Will my teacher be there? Will my friends be there? Young children thrive on routine and predictability, and suddenly both were gone. One of our mentor teachers, Vanessa Palomio, shared that at first there was more crying and a greater need for reassurance. But when she brought back familiar songs and rituals in the weekly music class, something shifted. The children began to feel safer. The routines returned. Community returned. Through singing and movement, they rediscovered something essential: a sense of belonging.

Moments like this remind us why the work is hard—and why it matters.

They also reinforced that resilience isn’t built after a crisis, but through consistent, relationship-based experiences that give children tools they can return to again and again.

I’m incredibly grateful that Bloom Arts Foundation has attracted such extraordinary music and movement educators—artists who are not only exceptional musicians, composers, and producers, but deeply responsive communicators. Our teachers understand that children are not empty vessels to be filled. They arrive with their own experiences, emotions, and needs—sometimes shaped by profound loss or disruption.

The fires reinforced a core truth of our work: just because a child doesn’t yet have the words to express what they need doesn’t mean they don’t need support. In this work, the children come first. Always. We meet them where they are—and then we show up with clarity, care, and excellence.

Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
For a long time, I assumed that my experience as a professional, gigging musician was what prepared me to be an entrepreneur and a leader. When you make a living as a musician, you’re essentially self-employed. You learn how to read people, navigate personalities and egos, collaborate across different styles, and understand what makes someone want to hire you again. I thought those experiences were what gave me the chops to build an organization.
But they weren’t.

While I’ve been fortunate to play in nearly every musical situation imaginable and share stages with some of my heroes, that experience is not what helped me envision Bloom Arts Foundation. The thing that shaped me most—by far—was teaching music in elementary school classrooms.

Everything anyone needs to learn to be successful in business, nonprofit or otherwise, can be learned in a general music education classroom.

The epiphany came during a professional development workshop I was leading for K–6 educators. I had just completed my Orff Schulwerk levels and was energized by new ideas. I came prepared with research and a plan to convince them—through science—why rhythm and music should be woven into the daily culture of their classrooms.
I walked in and immediately read the room. No one wanted to be there. They were exhausted, burned out on “sit and get” professional development, and ready to check out. In that moment, I learned one of my most important lessons in leadership: it’s not enough to lead—people need to feel inspired.

So I pivoted.

After introductions, I asked everyone to stand. “Be my echo.” We sang. We moved. We learned by doing—exactly how I would teach first graders. Instead of telling them what they should do, I invited them to experience it. They took creative risks, collaborated with colleagues, and rediscovered the joy of learning together. The energy in the room shifted. There was connection. There was belonging.

That was never the original plan—but it was the right one.

Teaching requires you to hold many things at once: preparation and flexibility, structure and play, clarity and responsiveness. You’re constantly reading the room, adjusting pacing, and meeting people where they are—all while keeping the larger goal in sight.

As Executive Director of Bloom Arts Foundation, I use those same skills every day.
Leading an organization isn’t so different from leading a classroom. You need vision, but you also need to listen. You need systems, but you must remain human. You need to inspire people to bring their full selves—not simply comply with instructions.

Bloom Arts was built on that philosophy: meet people where they are, invite them into the process, and trust creativity as a tool for connection and growth. Long before I knew the science behind it, I saw how rhythm, movement, and creative agency help people feel safe, connected, and rooted in belonging
What I learned as a music educator didn’t just inform my leadership style—it truly became the blueprint for it.

Is there any advice you’d like to share with our readers who might just be starting out?
Live lean. Forget “stuff.” Focus on your craft. Be clear about your goal—and most importantly, know your why. That clarity will guide your decisions far more than trends or outside validation ever could.

Find your people. Los Angeles is huge, and community doesn’t happen overnight. Make the effort to seek out people you resonate with—people you can be honest and vulnerable with. That support matters more than almost anything else.

Learn how to manage money early. Know what you’re making and what you’re spending. If your income fluctuates, save during the high months to support the low ones. Budgeting isn’t restrictive—it’s freeing.

Be the solution. Whether you’re in a band, on a movie set, in a classroom, or starting a business, problems will arise. Instead of pointing them out, look for ways to solve them. People remember that.

Keep surprises to a minimum. Be early. Be prepared. Be easy to work with. If you’re a gigging musician, show up ready. If you’re auditioning, don’t ask a lot of questions—wait until you get the job. Low maintenance goes a long way.
Don’t expect people to read your mind or discover you. If you want the opportunity, ask for it.

Help other people get what they want. Make introductions. Share resources. Support others generously—it comes back in ways you can’t predict.

If you’re starting a business, always be interviewing. Keep strong prospects in the pipeline. If you’re starting a nonprofit, find a COO early. That role is essential for systems, communication, and making sure partners and supporters never feel surprised.

Reflect often. Nothing is ever “set it and forget it.” Pay attention to what’s working and what needs adjusting. Growth requires reflection.

And remember: clear is kind.

Finally, here’s the best advice I was given as a young musician, 35 years ago, by an artist who had raised two kids while living her creative life. I was renting a room on the third floor of her house when she said to me:
“You don’t go into the arts for respect—it’s rare.
You don’t go into the arts for the money—it’s feast or famine.
You don’t go into the arts for the accolades—they’re rarely given.
You go into the arts because you can’t help it.”
If that’s true for you, then keep going. Dream boldly. Stay grounded. And help as many people as you can along the way.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.bloomartsfoundation.org
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bloomartsfoundation/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BloomArtsFoundation/
• LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/laura-porter-212a579/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@BloomArtsFoundation
• Other: https://www.linkedin.com/search/results/all/?keywords=Bloom%20Arts%20Foundation&origin=GLOBAL_SEARCH_HEADER&sid=zGV