I have seen two things recently that fit in with what I am experiencing right now and it made me feel like writing. This is one of those times that I am afraid what I want to write will be too much sharing for us all to feel comfortable, but at this point I guess that is kind of what I do!
One of the things I saw was a story on Facebook telling parents and teachers to never tell a child they can’t sing. The story says that everyone can sing. In theory I want to agree with that. We can all sing. That is true! It is also honest to say some people sing better than others, just like some people swim better than others, or draw better than others.
I guess I am a little jaded. I was taken to a theatre at the young age of 5 and put in the adult chorus to sing. By age 8 I was sure that singing was my gift and that I was meant to sing from that point forward. At that point I was taken away from the theatre and told to never sing where I could be heard ever again. It is no wonder I am confused. What I thought was my gift wasn’t? So what is my gift? Still don’t know!
But I agree with the article. Whether I was a good singer or not is kind of beside the point. It is the fact that my spirit was crushed and the joy I could have found in music was taken away from me for long enough to affect me for my entire life. I went for years not singing at all. Not even with the radio.
Then I realized that my son, who IS a gifted singer, was also not singing in public, although I tried to be encouraging. I realized that it wasn’t because of what I was saying to him, it was (as usual) more about my actions. I didn’t sing, so he didn’t. So I tried to change my attitude, but I had already messed up enough that while my child sang with the show choir all during school, he shied away from solos and doesn’t sing much at all now.
The second thing I saw was that Nancy Kerrigan (the Olympic skater) is on Dancing With the Stars. I don’t watch that show, but social media was all abuzz about her losing her composure when her dance partner/coach tried to compliment her. Evidently she was so used to being yelled at as an athlete that it sounds fake to her ear to hear a compliment.
And again, another story hit home. I can hear 10 compliments and 1 negative (whether real or imagined) and what sticks with me is the negative. It is what I grew up with, it is what my brain is programmed to expect and believe.
So here I am now, a week and a half away from getting back on stage and singing. After a couple of years of writing about others as a theatre critic, I will be up there, ready to take my criticism like an adult. But I’m not really. In my heart I am still that little kid being drug off of stage, being told I should never sing in front of anyone again. I am the young girl who never was good enough and who was told over and over by the one person who seemed to matter at the time, that I was homely. That I would grow up to be an old maid. That I would never be anything.
I made the mistake of recording myself singing the other day. I know not to do that, but I needed some feedback. The song that was just added and I have never sung before is what I recorded. And then I listened. And I cried. It wasn’t awful! I can live with that.
So I recorded the next song. And I listened. Two words in I turned it off. The song I thought I had knocked was in fact awful! And all of those memories flooded back. All of the negativity.
So I really get the article about telling kids they can sing (or dance or draw, for that matter.) It isn’t really about how good we sing, it is about finding the joy in the creativity, in the sheer act of singing. Nothing makes me happier than singing. But nothing can send me into a funk quicker as well. What a mess!
So here I sit. Too scared to keep working on my music (but I need to. I have to.) and too stubborn to give in to those voices in my head telling me how awful I am. Knowing I can NOT get up in front of people and sing, yet knowing I will. Wanting to do my best and show everyone that I can do this no matter what they think and wanting to hide in my room and admit defeat.
D. W. Winnicott (1896-1971) a pediatrician and psychoanalyst, says that “Artists are people driven by the desire to communicate and the desire to hide.” His studies included a true self who is spontaneous and open and a false self who puts on a mask and worries what others think. I guess most of us are both of those things.
I honestly thought that as I got older I would become more of my true self and I have. But when I fall back into the false self, the one who is nervous and worried about how I will be perceived, then I realize I have a long way to go.
Every time I find the strength to step out there and do what is difficult, I grow. Every time I make an excuse or think about giving up, I realize how much further I have to go.
So, like I said, maybe I have shared too much. Maybe I have shared it before. I know I have felt it before! It is a process. Just like becoming a character or learning a new song, there is a system I go through to get to where I want to be. If I concentrate on the process, the outcome takes care of itself. If I don’t focus on the destination and enjoy the journey, then I can eventually get there. So back to work, on my music and on me as a person.
And if you are in the neighborhood, I’d love to see some familiar, smiling faces at Homewood Theatre (The Dance Foundation) on April 7 and 8.
