Sing Louder
Magic. My first grade teacher created magic. Twenty first-graders were crammed in the wings of our cafetorium theater. It was dark and cluttered with discarded set pieces and old equipment. She pointed to the curtain and whispered to us that as soon as we stepped out on stage, we were supposed to pretend that we were in a new world - a fantastic, beautiful place that we had never seen before. She wanted to see it on our faces. And when I took those first steps on to the stage, I could feel it in my heart. I was in that new, amazing world where I had never been before. And I would never want to leave it.
But soon I really was in a new world - my family moved from Utah to California mid-school year and I felt lost and alone. I was drawn to music and theater and stories. I wrote scripts for my stuffed animals. I loved my fourth grade teacher who played the guitar and sang to us. She introduced me to King Arthur and we put on a play. I loved the excuse to pretend and dress up and share a story with our audience. The next year I had a solo in HMS Pinafore. But I was never the lead in anything. I was very shy. I took chorus in 8th grade and one day the girl sitting next to me whispered, “You have a pretty voice. You should sing louder.” I was shocked. Me? Really? Well maybe I would give it a try. Afterall, it gave me so much joy.
The next year I joined our very small high school choir. There were only about 9-12 of us at at time. And a few of those participants were only there because their guidance counselor forced them in to it. Maybe due to the small numbers, more than my talent, I was given a solo at the all-school assembly: a duet with a senior boy, “All I Ask Of You” from Phantom of the Opera. Wow! What a thrill. I felt a connection to the audience as I was singing and the feedback I received from friends and strangers after the performance gave me so much confidence and joy. The magic was there again in a whole new world on that stage. And I was finding my voice. Literally.
Life brought some difficult challenges, but my voice and my piano were always there when I got home from school. I could play and sing as loud and as angry as I needed to. Or I could cry and sing and feel connected to the musicians who had created those notes and words on the page - they knew how I felt. Or I could ring out happy sounds and celebrate life. Music and theater connected me to the world around me. And then my world changed again and my heart broke with real tragedy. I needed a way out and an audition at the Los Angeles County High School for the Arts brought me to a new school, an hour’s commute away on the LA freeways, and a world away from my troubles. My heart was healed. The magic continued. And my confidence increased that I could do hard things.
When I returned to my home high school for my senior year I filled it with as much magic as I could. I played piano for the jazz band, sang in the choir, acted in the plays and learned how to be a stage manager. And at the end of the final musical, it was me in the spotlight, sharing my heart with everyone in that theater - hoping to share the magic I felt.
I took a long break from performance in order to raise six amazing children. But guess what? They loved the magic too. And now I spend many hours each year teaching children and teens to sing and to act. Music and theater gave me a way to understand myself and connect to the world around me and now I get to share that. I create worlds with fabric and paint and lights and sounds. I help to build individuals who overcome fears and develop talents. I build teams who depend on each other and make magic. I am an artist. And the stage is my canvas. The magic continues and lives are changed.
Me as Sally Bowles in "Cabaret" 1992, Mira Costa High School
