Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Scott Knight. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Scott, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Risking taking is a huge part of most people’s story but too often society overlooks those risks and only focuses on where you are today. Can you talk to us about a risk you’ve taken – it could be a big risk or a small one – but walk us through the backstory.
When I decided to chase music full-time, I’ll be honest — it scared me.
I didn’t come from money or a guaranteed safety net. What I had were two loving parents who adopted me and gave me the freedom to dream — and I chose a dream that most people warned me against.
“Music’s risky.” “It’s not a stable career.” “What if it doesn’t work out?”
I heard it all. And part of me believed them. But deep down, I also knew that music wasn’t just something I do — it’s who I am.
I still remember those early days, teaching in tiny rooms, playing gigs for crowds so small you could count them on one hand. There were nights I wondered if I’d made a huge mistake. But then there were moments — those goosebump moments — when a student lit up because they finally nailed a chord progression, or when a crowd sang along to a song I wrote.
Those moments made every bit of uncertainty worth it.
Taking that risk didn’t just give me a career — it gave me purpose. It led me to stages I once only dreamed about, from Japan to the Grand Ole Opry, and eventually to building SK Music Courses, where I get to help others discover the same joy and healing that music brought me.
The truth is, the risk never really goes away. But neither does the reward. Every time I pick up my guitar, I’m reminded why I said yes to the unknown — because this is exactly where I’m meant to be.
Scott, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?
I’ve been carrying a guitar since before I could tie my shoes—literally picked one up at four and a half, and something just… clicked. That early spark turned into everything: garage bands, dive bar gigs, eventually the Grand Ole Opry stage, and somehow even shows in Japan (still pinching myself about that one).
Here’s the thing though—as much as I love performing, teaching is where my heart really lives. There’s this magic moment when a student finally nails that tricky chord or makes it through their first full song, and their whole face lights up. I live for that. I’ve watched music transform people—not just making them better players, but more confident, more focused, more *themselves*. That’s the good stuff.
That’s why I started this online learning space for guitar and ukulele. Too many people bail on music because traditional lessons feel like homework or intimidation. I wanted to flip the script—make it fun, bite-sized, and actually rewarding. Real songs. Simple wins. Progress that feels good.
My 19th birthday threw me a curveball I didn’t see coming: I met my birth family for the first time. Meeting my birth grandparents and aunt gave me this connection I hadn’t known was missing. And here’s the wild part—I found out my birth mother (who passed when I was four) could sight-read piano. My grandmother played too. Suddenly this lifelong pull toward music made *so much sense*. It wasn’t just passion—it was literally in my DNA.
I was already scraping together money for the Guitar Institute of Technology in LA, and that meeting sealed it. I graduated from GIT in ‘88 and started teaching guitar at a local music shop while cleaning pools part-time to pay the bills. Unglamorous? Sure. But I loved it. My teaching schedule eventually ballooned to fifty students across six days a week, and I knew I’d found my thing.
Then in 1993, I married my wife—my biggest cheerleader and the person who saw more in me than I saw in myself. With her encouragement, we left Ventura, California behind and moved to Nashville so I could study music at Belmont University. Best leap we ever took.
Every risk, every move, every “wait, are we really doing this?” moment has shaped who I am today. Through teaching, I’ve gotten to help students all over the world find the same joy and peace music’s given me.
The fancy stages and big moments are cool, don’t get me wrong. But what I’m actually proud of? The people. Watching someone realize “holy crap, I *can* do this”—that’s everything.
Music’s been my greatest teacher. It’s taught me patience, persistence, and gratitude. And if there’s one lesson I keep learning over and over, it’s this: it’s never too late to start. Music belongs to everyone. If you’ve got a song in your heart, I promise I’ll help you figure out how to play it.
Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?
You want to talk about resilience? Let me paint you a picture: 1988, fresh out of GIT, living in California with a guitar, a dream, and exactly zero guarantees.
I’m teaching private lessons at a local music store—cramming students in whenever I can—and spending my other hours cleaning pools to keep the lights on. Not exactly the rockstar life people imagine, right? I’m skimming leaves, scrubbing tile, and then rushing to lessons still smelling faintly of chlorine. Some days I’d teach back-to-back for hours, then grab my gear and head straight to a gig.
It would’ve been so easy to look around and think, “This isn’t working. Maybe I should get a ‘real’ job.” But here’s what kept me going: every single week, I’d see a student have that breakthrough moment. A kid who couldn’t keep rhythm suddenly locking into a groove. An adult who thought they were “too old” finally playing their favorite song all the way through. *That* was the fuel.
So I kept showing up. Pool route in the morning, lessons in the afternoon and evening, gigs on weekends. Year after year, my teaching schedule grew—twenty students, thirty, forty, eventually fifty across six days a week. I wasn’t just surviving anymore; I was building something real.
Looking back, those pool-cleaning, lesson-grinding, gig-hustling days weren’t a detour—they were the foundation. They taught me that resilience isn’t about one big heroic moment. It’s about showing up when it’s hard, when it’s unglamorous, when nobody’s watching. It’s about believing in what you’re building even when the payoff feels miles away.
And honestly? I wouldn’t trade those days for anything. They made me the teacher I am today—someone who gets it when a student feels stuck, when progress feels slow, when doubt creeps in. I’ve been there. And I kept going. That’s the story I want every student to know: if I can do it, so can you.
Have you ever had to pivot?
Want to hear about a pivot that changed everything? 1993. I’m in Ventura, California with fifty students—*fifty*—teaching six days a week. My schedule is packed. I’ve built this thing from nothing, and it’s finally humming. Life is good. Life is stable.
And then my wife looks at me one day and says, “You should go back to school. You should study music at Belmont.”
Belmont. In Nashville. As in, pack up everything we’ve built, leave all fifty students behind, and move halfway across the country so I can be a student again in my late twenties.
My first reaction? “Are you *crazy*?” I had a thriving teaching practice, steady income, a routine that worked. Why would I blow that up to start over?
But she saw something I couldn’t see yet. She believed I had more in me—more to learn, more to become. And honestly, that meeting with my birth family was still echoing in my head. Learning about my birth mother’s gift for music, understanding that this thing I loved was actually woven into my DNA—it lit something up inside me that wouldn’t go away.
So we did it. We packed up our life in California and moved to Nashville. I walked away from fifty students, a full schedule, and financial security to become a broke college student again. Talk about terrifying.
But here’s what I learned: sometimes the scariest pivots are the ones that unlock everything. Belmont didn’t just give me a degree—it deepened my understanding of music, expanded my network, and ultimately made me a better teacher. Everything I built after that move was richer because of it.
That pivot taught me that growth lives on the other side of comfort. And it reinforced what my wife already knew: the best investments we make are in ourselves, even when—*especially* when—the timing feels impossible.
Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. Because that leap of faith didn’t just change my career—it changed my life.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.skmusiccourses.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/skmusic_courses
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SKMusicCourses
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/scott-knight-8459965/
- Youtube: https://youtube.com/@SKMusicCourses?si=b9wqhtfCjPuKE1aZ
- Other: TikTok: www.tiktok.com/@scottknight390
Image Credits
Opry photo: Alley Uvila
Fourth of July SB: Michelle Knight