Grace, Gratitude, and Lessons for All: We Should All Be Living Life Like Kristin Scott Benson

“I grew up in Union, South Carolina,” she recalled, “and the first banjo I got, I was about nine. We’d only had it a month or two, and our house burned down.”

It’s the kind of memory that could have ended a childhood dream, but for Kristin Scott Benson, it simply began another story.

“The first thing that I remember well — you know, small towns can be so special. I remember how sweet the town was to us when it happened. I remember going back to school, and all these kids were bringing clothes and shoes and coats and everything, so it was that immediate, we had nothing except what we had on when we left, which was in the middle of the night.”

When you talk with Benson, she sounds exactly like the kind of person you hope a world-class musician would be: humble, thoughtful, and quietly grateful for the life she’s built around the banjo. She’s a seven-time IBMA Banjo Player of the Year, a recipient of the Steve Martin Prize for Excellence in Banjo and Bluegrass, and a 2024 inductee into the American Banjo Hall of Fame. But none of that has changed how she speaks — with honesty and warmth, grounded in her work and her faith. She’s a lightning-quick picker who’s a teacher at heart; Benson holds herself with the calm and grace of a legend who shrugs at high praise while also embracing gratitude.

It’s also that sense of kindness she experienced after the fire — people showing up when you need them most — that may reveal the reason she’s spent so much of her life giving back through teaching, passing on what she’s learned with the same generosity she once received.

“I probably played the first song on the banjo maybe two or three months after I started. And by six months, I was ready to play in jam sessions and that sort of thing. I was about 13 when I got a full-size real banjo and started playing. Once I started playing the banjo, I just became obsessed.”

Her obsession became a lifelong career. In an industry that has historically underrepresented women in instrumental roles, Benson has more than earned her place alongside today’s most outstanding performers of bluegrass. Her technical mastery rivals anyone holding a five-string today — male or female — and her command of tone and timing has become a benchmark for aspiring players. She has shattered stereotypes not by talking about them, but by playing circles around them. Additionally, she’s one of the most respected teachers in bluegrass, known for her patience, her encouragement, and her ability to meet each student where they are.

“If I’m home for the full length, I teach Monday through Thursday, anywhere 15 to 20 hours a week,” said Benson of her typical teaching time. “However, with the scheduling and the follow up work, if you teach 20 hours a week, you’re probably spending 25 hours a week on it. But that has become special to me because like any other job, you get better at it. And most people burn out teaching. They can’t sustain that for years and years. The way I’ve sustained it is by caring about these people. You want them to progress and do well, so you care about the person and then suddenly it’s a labor of love instead of just a labor.”

It’s a simple philosophy, but one that explains her endurance. She doesn’t see teaching as routine or transactional; it’s relational. Every student becomes a story, every lesson a small act of faith in someone’s potential. Conversely, everyone has a challenge to overcome, and the love of the craft has to emerge for the talent to surface.

“For my adult students, it tends to be memory,” said Benson of the common issues that arise in instruction. “That’s the toughest part. For the kids, it really just depends on them. If they’re really motivated, they can just soar right away. And I’ve had some who have done that. They’re phenomenal musicians and they’re gonna set the world on fire as they continue to age and get better. But I just say to mom and dad, can you make yourself love something? Even if the kid would like to love it, that would make their parents happy, but maybe they don’t love it. You have to trust that we can’t make ourselves love something, or dislike something we love, so you just trust that instinct. What is the desire of their heart? Just put the energy behind that.”

As the longtime banjo player for The Grascals — one of the most awarded and beloved bands in modern bluegrass — Benson has been a cornerstone of the group’s sound since 2008. Her crisp rolls, impeccable timing, and emotional restraint define much of the band’s signature style, anchoring the music with a sense of purpose and joy. In a band filled with powerhouse players, she’s never simply “the female banjo player.” She’s the banjo player — and many of her peers would say, one of the finest working today. As for band fatigue, she said that one can start to play on autopilot if you’re not the type that improvises every night and changes the set list daily, so on those few occasions, she can reset with good old band shenanigans.

“Our set list is relatively the same with a few changes over time, but I think the elements that I respond to, the camaraderie with the guys in the band personally, that can be fun every night, because it’s different every night. Somebody messed up, and you can get a rise out of that, and take great enjoyment in their failure (laughs). That kind of fun stuff that goes on in bands where we give each other a hard time, that stuff helps it stay fresh.”

Her humor is as sharp as her timing, keeping her grounded through the endless repetition of touring life. Even in routine, she finds community.

“I’m incredibly grateful for those awards. They’re a mystery to me. They truly are a mystery to me. But I’m grateful and will very humbly give the credit to, I’m a Christian. I just really thank the Lord for those kinds of blessings in my life. But ultimately, it’s just about playing the banjo, and I am so blessed that Wayne is my husband, and we’re professional musicians. We have steady work. There’s always a steady stream of what’s next.”

That partnership has extended far beyond marriage — it’s a musical collaboration of equals. Kristin and Wayne’s acclaimed duo album Pick Your Poison showcased their intricate interplay and shared musical intuition. Their chemistry on that record, as well as on stage, reflects both their technical precision and their deep personal connection.

“I taught lessons today,” Benson revealed. “As soon as you and I hang up I’m proofreading tabs for a book that I co-wrote with Bill Evans called 25 Great Bluegrass Banjo Solos. It’s amazing, and I think that each player gets 25 players, 25 solos, and they get about 2,500 words a piece. So this was a big endeavor that’s finally about to come out.”

Even when she’s home, she’s creating, writing and editing, but gratitude keeps her from feeling jaded, as does the look in a student’s eye when they really just want to play. She knows that look better than anyone, but more as a player than a teacher.

“Honestly, I can say this, and I’ve said it before, that I’ve never picked up the banjo and not wanted to play it. I’ve certainly not wanted to get in the car and drive all night to meet the band at four in the morning. I’ve certainly wanted to be home more or wanted to be gone more, in some stages of life. All of those things ebb and flow, but I’ve never in my life picked up the banjo and not wanted to play it.”

Her voice softens when she talks about her older students — people learning music for the joy of it, not the spotlight. For Kristin, that’s where the meaning lives: not trophies or accolades, but in the connection between players, and between player and instrument.

“The kids are special to me even at the camps I teach. I think after you become a mom, that’s just how the world works for you. You see kids with a totally different lens. But I just think they’re so precious, and when you get a kid who’s interested in banjo, there’s automatically a kinship there because it’s not a popular thing to be interested in. Also, I have a heart for the very young and the very old. I’ve had students who started playing banjo in their sixties and seventies. And I love that too, because first of all, neurologically, it’s incredibly healthy. It’s like learning a language. So rather than deciding that you’re gonna start learning German to stay sharp or doing the New York Times crossword puzzle, you can play an instrument.”

As for her legacy in this bluegrass world, Benson is, as expected, much more modest than a player as talented as she should be.

“I know where I stand musically, and I’m not the kind of generational player that’s gonna stamp the instrument indelibly, like Bela Fleck or Earl Scruggs,” she said. “I think the most important legacy I guess you would say that I might have is how I’ve been able to pour that into students, because if they can play the banjo and enjoy it, and I have a part in it that’s pretty special: just affecting people’s lives by enabling them to play this instrument that I love so much.”