"Tonight was our recital. It was the first time I sang in front of a big crowd. And loud too. We did great." Sahiba, a freshman, shared on Facebook last night right after Oakland Technical High's small chorus gave its solo voice recital. (I've been directing the program at the school for about two years.) She was clearly proud and excited. In fact, she sang "Smile" wonderfully, even though pundits would have criticized the fact that she sang along with Michael Jackson on recording. As a beginning singer, she understood she wasn't quite ready to sing on her own to piano or karaoke accompaniment.
The whole event was unorthodox; our group of shy beginners didn't look remotely like "Glee." Some sang out of tune from nerves. One student, when he sang in front of people, forgot the words and needed someone else to be singing with him so he could keep going. One young woman who rarely speaks, in class or outside of class, mastered her fear and sang -- even though many of her notes were "wrong." The singers' faces showed determination, fear, focus, and total lack of pretense; they weren't ready yet to add "performance values" of facial expression and gesture. Just getting up to bare their voices in public was a huge challenge and victory because revealing our singing voices makes us unbelievably vulnerable. To sing means to let go.
And yet, hearing the tone, texture, colors, sweetness or roughness of each voice blessed us who listened. We looked briefly into the spirit of each young person, just as they are. We entered the miracle of self acceptance, if just for a moment.
Before the performance, I tried to explain my philosophy about singing to the audience of parents. I tried to explain that the reason to sing is because you love it and you love music, not to impress people or be a great singer. I tried to explain that each person's voice is unique and beautiful right where it is, that it takes time to find where your voice feels right in terms of technique, that telling people to "be quiet, you can't sing," is a huge mistake. But Anne Lamott said it better than I could, in her commencement address at UC Berkeley in 2003. I believe that she captured the reason why we sing. Here's a quote from that speech:
"Your problem is how you are going to spend this one odd and precious life you have been issued. Whether you're going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over people and circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are....... It's magic to see spirit largely because it's so rare. Mostly you see the masks and the holograms that the culture presents as real. You see how you're doing in the world's eyes, or your family's, or yours, or in the eyes of people who are doing better than you -- much better than you –or worse. But you are not your bank account, or your ambitiousness. You're not the cold clay lump with a big belly you leave behind when you die. You are spirit, you are love, and, while it is increasingly hard to believe, you are free. If you find out next week that you are terminally ill -- and we're all terminally ill on this planet-- all that will matter is memories of beauty, that people loved you, and you loved them, and that you tried to help the poor and innocent."
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