I love to sing. There is a calling deep in my blood to make beauty with music. To heal with music. Which is somewhat tragic in that I have never considered myself a “good singer”. To be completely truthful, I used to tell people I was tone deaf. And though tone deafness is a defense used by many who feel they are not gifted with song, it’s actually a condition, defined as: a musical disability affecting about 4% of the population that appears mainly as a defect in processing pitch but also encompasses musical memory and recognition (Ref: Wikipedia).
There is a free online test to check your pitch perception. Spoiler alert: I am not tone deaf. Which I already knew, having grown up on a piano bench and achieving Level 7 Royal Conservatory. Each Royal Conservatory level tests your ability to play several pieces (bonus if you can do it from memory), as well as sight reading, playing by ear, and note recall. All of which you cannot do if you are tone deaf.
So why the self-deprecation?
From the time I was ten, I daydreamed about being the lead singer of a band. I still do. I was a member of my school choir and band through high school. And yet, I wouldn’t sing unless I was sure others would drown me out. I was ashamed of my voice, because it didn’t sound like everything I was taught singing should sound like.
Society has warped the gift of song into something commercial, something that must be done in a specific way to carry value. But music exists in all of us. It is a mode of communication. Songs connect us to each other, to the earth, to the world. There is a reason we sing in the car, the shower – even those of us who feel we aren’t singers. We sing when we are alone. When no one is nearby to make fun of us. Because making fun of people for their voice has become normalized. And even though we might not realize it on the surface, even though we might make fun of ourselves for the exact same thing, words bury deep. And through what might be perceived as playful banter, singing becomes an unattainable standard that most of us shouldn’t even attempt.
And you know what? I’ve had enough of that.
I have started singing again. In front of people. I feel like I need to throw up every time, just waiting for someone to make a joke. A comment. But the more I sing, the more confident I become. The lighter my heart is. The less I care about how I sound, and the more I care about how music makes me feel.
The world needs more music. If you have ever listened to someone sing in front of another person for the first time, if you have heard their voice crack in vulnerability and strengthen as they carry on, then you already know it is the most beautiful sound in the world.
