I Can “Sing More Than One Note”
At my high school, a student organization hosted a talent show. Not many people really know this about me, but I love to sing. I was in choir in middle school, but the fact that I like to sing probably confuses people because I chose to be in Talented Play Production, not Talented Musical Theatre. I do love the singing part of musicals. Ultimately, though, musicals include complex choreography and the people in musical theatre are cliquey, so I signed up for Talented Play Production.
Anyway, most people at my school (excluding my friends) view me one of two ways: 1) the kid who walks weirdly or 2) the nice, smart, nerdy girl. (Obviously, I prefer Option 2.) No one really sees me as anything besides that with the exception of my friends. I’ve liked to sing ever since I can remember, but I’ve always been shy about it. And until this year, I liked performing, but I was never really passionate about theater. That has changed.
I decided to put myself out there, so I signed up for the talent show. I like challenging myself. Although performing in the talent show would be nerve-wracking, I knew it would also be fun, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could get up onstage and be vulnerable in front of people and still be okay.
This was not the first time I’d performed in a talent show. I used to go to a week-long sleepaway camp for kids with disabilities. The camp had a talent show, and the first year I sang “The Climb” by Miley Cyrus.
That talent show was less of a showcase of talent—though everyone was talented—and more of a fun camp activity that mostly everyone participated in. In other words, less pressure. At the time, I was nine and it was a new experience for me, so singing in the talent show did make me nervous. My parents were surprised to hear that I sang because I’m generally pretty shy and I have anxiety, but I don’t let my anxiety stop me from doing things I want to do.
My school talent show this year was very different. Only a select few kids auditioned, and the talent show was held in the high school theater with lighting and MCs and tech—much like in my Talented Play Production class. Luckily, because of the class, most of the theater and performance process was not new to me, so I felt more comfortable than I would have otherwise.
Still, this talent show was a much bigger deal. Many people came—so many that the theater I was so used to in class was totally filled—and the talent show was technically a competition, though I really didn’t care about that.
I had chosen to sing the song “Human” by Christina Perri. It probably was not the best pitch for my voice, but the song expressed the message I wanted and so that was all I cared about. Winning the talent show was not the priority for me. My priorities were to prove to myself that I could be vulnerable in front of people, prove to others that I was more than just the nerd and the girl who had CP, and hopefully send a positive message in the process with the song I chose.
In a nutshell, I wanted to prove that I could “sing more than one note” (not necessarily in the literal sense). My “notes” are always pretty straightforward—smart, a high achiever, a nerd, socially awkward, unique, maybe a little weird, slow. I wanted to prove that those things are not all I am. I am more than the way I walk. There is more to me than taking pride in my schoolwork. I wanted people to see me on the inside a little bit. I wear vulnerability on my sleeve with my CP, but I wanted to be vulnerable for a different reason. I wanted to be more than one dimension; I wanted to inspire people with my voice and not necessarily with my story.
For one night, I didn’t want my legs to be the reason people stared at me. I didn’t want people to label me as a nerd when they looked at me. I wanted to use my voice, to be brave, to be vulnerable, to do something that people could appreciate.
I think—and hope—that I proved to myself and to others that I am not “one note”. I am not just the girl who is smart, or the girl who can’t walk right. I can be vulnerable. I can be someone else than who I have made myself to be. I can inspire people without them knowing my background, or my story. I can sing.